Posts Tagged ‘Hollywood Forever Cemetery’

The Haunted Cemetery

Monday, October 30th, 2017

If you want to hear weird tales of something awful, things that will make the very marrow chill in your bones and that will cause the shivers to creep up your spinal column as you look fearful over your shoulder to see, you know not what, then go out to the foothills of Hollywood and talk with the old timers who live about the neighborhood of Primrose and Vista Del Mar where the Krotona Theosophical colony once practiced their religion. For the uneducated, Theosophy is a “collection of mystical and occultist philosophies concerning, or seeking direct knowledge of the presumed mysteries of life and nature, particularly of the nature of divinity and the origin and purpose of the universe.”

A leader of this institution, Ernest A. Sydow, was styled in the annals of his faith as a “pioneer of the colony,” a title well earned. In the fall of 1922, Sydow was on an evangelical mission in Northern California when he died and was buried at Vallejo, the scene of his last labors. But after a few years, the Krotona colony asked that his body be exhumed and brought back to Hollywood, his first love.

This was done, and the occasion of the return and reburial was made memorable by a series of phenomena which it is possible may be explained by natural causes, but which have not yet been so explained. This may be due to the unscientific character of the investigators at the colony, inclined by the nature of their calling to believe in a supernatural intervention where a scientist would see only the workings of a mundane force or the misinterpretation of sights and sounds. But I will relate the tale as a respected Hollywood centenarian told it, and the reader can draw their own conclusion.

After its arrival, the casket containing the body of Mr. Sydow lay for a time in the offices of Hollywood Cemetery, at its eastern entrance, and watchers sat with it. On the night before the reburial, the watchers were Jeremiah Altman, a member of the Krotona colony and Harry Westfield, an employee of the cemetery. Along in the hours near morning, Altman stepped out for a breath of fresh air, but in a moment, came rushing back with the exclamation: “Westfield, Westfield, the cemetery grounds are full of ghosts.”

Both men went out. In every direction through the tombstones they saw figures darting hither and thither in a wild and fitful dance. The men approached, but the figures drew back before them, forming to the left and right of them, and it was impossible to get within close range.

In the morning, when the casket was lifted, the floor beneath was found to be blackened by fire, and a hole was burned clear through to the stone foundation. How did this happen? No one has ever tried to offer a speculation.

This was not the end. That night, several members of the Krotona faculty sat in the cemetery’s office with manager Theodor Piltz discussing the strange events that perplexed them. Suddenly, their discussions were abruptly terminated by a startling and tremendous racket just outside the door, a clattering and whacking that was deafening. Piltz threw open the office door. Not a soul was outside the building. He returned to his office, but hardly had he sat down when the noises began again. Again, a sudden dash outside failed to reveal any one. Nor did a search of the building reveal any intruders. A third time the noises began, and this time Piltz spoke outside to the cemetery grounds: “If you are gentlemen, be still.” The noise stopped.

Coming at another time, all this might not have occasioned any mystification, but in conjunction with the other strange and unexplained happenings, it assumed an importance it would not have assumed alone.

After the reburial of Ernest Sydow, a photograph was taken of the cemetery. One of the cemetery staff was the photographer. In the foreground of the picture can be seen two graves, just as they appear in the cemetery. But at the foot of each grave stands something no visitor has ever seen, and for the peace of his mind it is to be hoped never will see. At the foot of one grave stood Buren Pratt, a well-known Hollywood practitioner of the mystical arts, dressed in his psychic garments. At the foot of the other grave stood the counterfeit presentment of its occupant, Charlotta Sweetwood, a woman who in life was a benefactor of the psychic.

When these startling things appeared at the time the photograph was developed, the cemetery management decided that possibly some well-timed conjunction of sunlight and foliage was the cause of the images; that they had no real existence—were only shadows. So, they had the picture thrown on a screen by stereopticon. But the figures came out more plainly—so plainly that there was no denying that they were the well-remembered features of Pratt and his benefactress, Charlotta.

The possibilities of photography were not so well known then as now. The superimposing of one negative upon another and the resulting “ghost photographs” that have been the stock in trade of so many imposters was an art not well known then. Still, there were those who suspected the photographer of a trick and charged him with it. He denied the charge and offered this unassailable plea of innocence: Because he was a man of unscrupulous character, there was no such thing as a photograph of Buren Pratt in existence and nobody had ever heard of one.

What of these ghosts? What explanation can be offered? The writer confesses he is unconvinced. Yet he has personal acquaintance with persons who claim to have seen them, with clergymen on the one hand, with university-bred agnostics on the other. So, there you are, and from the evidence presented can render your own verdict.

 

Dear readers, please note that this is a story of fiction to celebrate the Halloween holiday. Names, characters, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. 

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Dia de Los Muertos at Hollywood Forever Cemetery

Thursday, October 12th, 2017

THROUGHOUT THE CEMETERY GROUNDS

Saturday, October 28, 2017

NOON — MIDNIGHT

There is going to be a caravan taking place afterward with the elektroroller scooters, so bring your scooter and your mask.

Tickets are $20 at hollywoodforever.ticketfly.com
MORE INFO : ladayofthedead.com

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Louise Emmons: unique, mysterious and unforgettable

Tuesday, October 3rd, 2017

For Halloween month, we showcase Louise Emmons, an unknown actress today, except for truly hardcore students of film. Her unusual looks have caused many film-goers to squirm in their seats from her silent film roles to her last appearance in Tod Browning’s horror classic, Mark of the Vampire (1935).

Louise Emmons began her career late, at age 56, yet she worked steadily for the next twenty years in small and extra roles. A woman of mystery and misperception, nothing is known of her early life and there is little written about her film career. There are no interviews that would give a hint about the woman who was described as having “the kind of face that could stop a clock.” Yet, Emmons has endeared herself to fans by her distinctive look and moving performances.

First, to refute some of the erroneous information about her: She was not born in Germany, or during any of the birth years attributed to her. Regrettably, the month and date of her birth is still a mystery. In some cases, Emmons herself is the source of the incorrect facts. What follows is only a hint of this enigmatic actress’s early life:

Louise Emmons was born with the unusual first name, Louie—Louie A. Adkison–sometime in 1858, and most likely at, or near, Camptonville, Yuba County, California. She was the middle child of D. O. (David Oliver) Adkison (at the time a miner), and his second wife Mary A. Johnson.

Juliet J. Adkison, the older sister of Louise Emmons, died at age ten. Is there a family resemblance? (Findagrave)

After spending a brief time in Sonoma County, the family moved again to Virginia City, Nevada, where she spent her childhood and most of her early adult years. Louie, or Lucy as she was called as a young girl, had two siblings: an older sister Juliet (1856-1866), who died at the age of ten from typhoid, and a younger brother Oliver Charles (1860-1861), who was not yet one-year-old when he passed from infant fever. Both are buried in Virginia City’s Silver Terrace Cemeteries.

Throughout her childhood in Virginia City, Lucy lived downtown on South C Street and outside the town limits on Geiger Grade Road. Her father, originally from Indiana, was a well-respected man of multiple talents. During his time in Nevada, Adkison served as the Speaker of the Nevada Assembly; a justice of the peace; Virginia City’s postmaster, and as a judge.

When Lucy was twelve (1870), she attended the Young Ladies Seminary in Benicia, California. There she developed her artistic talents and by 1881 (she now went by the name Lou), she prophesied that she would “become famous as a landscape artist.” However, her local “fame” and talent developed more as a portrait painter. In fact, a journalist for the Reno Gazette boasted that the likeness of local businessman J. J. Becker, “painted by Miss Lou Adkinson [sic] of Virginia City, is by far the best oil painted likeness this reporter has ever seen by a Nevada artist, and compares favorably with those having national reputations as portrait painters.” Indeed, her talent was so celebrated that the following year, in September 1882, Lou had an exhibition of her work at Reno’s Pavilion during Fair Week.

After the deaths of both her parents in 1887, Lou moved to San Francisco where she continued to make her living as a portrait artist. Because of her unusual first name, she was known professionally as Miss Louie A. Adkison or Miss L. A. Adkison (sometimes misspelled, or perhaps purposely, as Adkinson).

Around 1903, Lou lived briefly in Santa Barbara. There she met her future husband, Roswell G. Emmons, a machinist who was thirteen years her junior. They married on April 24, 1904. Not long afterward, the couple move to Los Angeles where she continued with her painting. Within two years, they had a son, Marion.

From the 1910 census. Emmons gives her age as 37 but she was actually 52-years-old. They were living at 1021 S. Grand Avenue, Los Angeles. (click on image to enlarge)

1920 census. Louise (as Lewis) is widowed and living with her son at 1625 Echo Park Avenue, Los Angeles (click on image to enlarge)

Confusion about her age and name probably got their start from the 1910 census; even though she was in fact 52-years-old, she gave her age to the census enumerator as 37 (making her two years younger than her husband), and her name as Louis (her profession was still artist/painter). In the same census, and in other records, Roswell is credited as a ‘photographer for motion pictures,’ possibly for shorts where he would receive no credit. Yet, it’s likely that it was through his efforts that his 56-year-old wife first entered motion pictures in 1914; her first billing was as Mrs. Emmons, then Mrs. Louise A. Emmons, Mrs. L. A. Emmons and finally—when she was credited—simply, Louise Emmons.

Over the next two decades, classic movie fans would get glimpses of her in small roles, many times uncredited, in such films as Judith of Bethulia (1914), and three Rudolph Valentino films: The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921), The Conquering Power (1922) and Blood and Sand (1922). In addition, she appeared in von Stroheim’s Foolish Wives (1922), Rex Ingram’s Scaramouche (1923), DeMille’s King of Kings (1927), and more, for a total of seventy-four films. Her unique look often typecast her in mostly offensive sounding roles such as Hag, Smiling Hag, Old Hag, Crackling Hag, Gypsy Hag, and many variations of Gypsy and Old Woman. Still, she kept busy appearing in multiple films each year until her death.

Death certificate of Emmons’ husband, Roswell. (click image to enlarge)

On November 22, 1919, Roswell Emmons died from heart problems; he was buried in the Masonic section of Glendale’s Forest Lawn Cemetery. However, to further confuse matters, on his death certificate, while Louise is the informant (as Lewis A. Emmons), she states that Roswell’s wife is Laura A. Emmons. And again, just several months later for the 1920 census, she has herself listed again as Lewis Emmons. For the remainder of her life, she would refer to herself legally as Lewis or Louis Emmons.

Another mystery concerns her son Marion. He was reportedly born in 1906 in California, yet there is no record of his birth under that name. Considering that Louise would have been 48-years-old at the time, it’s possible that he was adopted. At any rate, other than the 1910 and 1920 censuses, there are no official records of Marion P. Emmons to be found—he has simply vanished.

By 1935, Louise and her many aliases was living at 5738 Waring Avenue in Hollywood. On March 6, she died from heart disease and pneumonia at nearby Hollywood Hospital. She was either 76 or 77 years old. Her death certificate is under the name Louis Emmons; information given by her informant Ralph Burbank, an electrician at one of the studios. However, he didn’t know her birthday, but approximated her age at 73.

Louise Emmons’ death certificate. Her mother is listed as Juliet Johnson, however, she was her maternal grandmother. Her mother was Mary Johnson. (click on image to enlarge)

Louise Emmons was buried at Hollywood Cemetery (now Hollywood Forever) in a grave paid for by the Actor’s Fund. Why she didn’t join her husband at Forest Lawn is not known. For the next 79 years, Emmons gravesite remained unmarked and as mysterious as her life. That is, until March 23, 2014, when through the efforts of a dedicated group of fans (Lon Chaney biographer Michael F. Blake, animator Jenny Lerew, and Mike Hawks of Larry Edmunds Bookshop), her grave was finally given a marker and can now be visited by a new group of devotees.

The grave marker of Louise Emmons after being unmarked for 79 years. Hollywood Forever Cemetery, Section 2W, #99, east of the peacock cages. (click on image to enlarge)

 

(NOTE: Information for this story was pieced together through census reports, newspaper articles, family trees and death records.)

 

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James Waller Somers: “He knew Lincoln…”

Friday, September 15th, 2017

It’s surprising how many Hollywood Forever Cemetery residents have a unique connection to Abraham Lincoln. There is Senator Cornelius Cole, a close friend who visited Lincoln on the day of his assassination. And Joseph Hazelton, who as a boy, was present at Ford’s Theatre on that night. Now we profile James Waller Somers, who knew Lincoln in his boyhood in Urbana, Illinois, and continued that friendship into adulthood.

James Waller Somers, the son of Dr. Winston and Mary (Haines) Somers, was born at Mt. Airy, North Carolina, on January 18, 1833. His father was a physician, and in 1843, moved his family to Urbana, Illinois. Somers became friends with Abraham Lincoln while in Urbana, one of the towns of the Eighth Judicial Circuit where Lincoln once practiced law.

“My recollections of Lincoln,” Somers said, “date back to 1843 or 1844, when as a boy ten years old, I arrived in Urbana, Champaign County, Illinois, with my father’s family from North Carolina. Urbana was then a mere village, containing a population of perhaps 150 persons. The Courthouse was a double, one-story frame structure, unpainted, and of primitive architecture. It was in the center of the village, surrounded by about an acre of ground enclosed. It was in this court yard I remember first seeing Mr. Lincoln. He was tall and ungainly but of very striking appearance.

“It was court week, and he was striding across the yard toward the Courthouse, in that peculiar manner characteristic of him, a sort of meditative shambling gait, head drooped forward and his hands behind him. He was lank and angular, with a massive head, covered with a short, stubby, dark-brown hair, brushed up in front, without any pretense of parting in the middle or anywhere else. He had a high forehead, thick lips, cheek bones of an Indian-like prominence, and a wart on the side of his face near his large nose, which was eliminated from his later photographs by the retoucher’s brush. His face was smooth shaven. His ears, hands and feet were abnormally large and his arms unusually long.”

At the age of 21, Somers studied law in the office of his uncle, William D. Somers, with whom he became a law partner after being admitted to the bar in 1856.

“When I was studying law with my uncle, Judge Somers, Mr. Lincoln frequently came into our little one-story office, near the hotel, to swap stories with ‘Uncle William,’ who was himself a good story-teller, though Lincoln far surpassed him as he did everyone one else. He used to sit on a rush bottomed chair with his feet on the rung, telling stories, hour after hour. He frequently laughed more heartily than anyone else, but the laughter was neither boisterous nor vulgar. His whole body swayed with merriment, wholesome and infectious, and his eyes would sparkle with amusement, while he ran his fingers through his close cropped hair, always standing on end.”

Originally a Whig, Somers helped to organize the state Republican Party and actively campaigned for Lincoln in 1858 and 1860. Henry Clay Whitney called Somers “the promising orator of our Circuit of the young men.”

By 1860, Somers had developed serious hearing problems which made the practice of law difficult. He wrote to Lincoln seeking advice on his future career. Lincoln responded on March 17, 1860, recommending that he resettle in Chicago where Whitney had offered him a partnership. Lincoln closed saying that his advice was given, “with the deepest interest for your welfare.” A week later Lincoln wrote a recommendation:

“My young friend James W. Somers I have known from boyhood and I can truly say that in my opinion he’s entirely faithful and fully competent to the performance of any business he will undertake.”

In 1861, President Lincoln appointed Somers to a position in the Department of the Interior, which led to a distinguished career of 25 years of public service in Washington.

During the Civil War, Somers received news that two of his nephews, both minors, had been forced to join the Confederate Army in North Carolina and were captured as prisoners of war in Elmira, New York. Somers asked Lincoln to have them released and sent to Urbana, with the assurance that they would not take an active part in the war.

“I was cordially received at the White House,” Somers said, “in his old familiar way. After talking a few moments on home affairs I stated my errand and he at once wrote an order to Adjt.-Gen. Fry of the War Department, directing the release of the young men and upon their taking the oath of allegiance to send them to their uncle in Urbana. In a few days my cousins were on their way West and did not again take up arms against the North.”

When Somers retired from the Department of the Interior in 1895, he moved to San Diego where his brother resided. In 1903, he moved to Hollywood to live with his niece, Mrs. H. G. (May) Condee at her home on what is now Cherokee Avenue. The library was adorned with some of Somers valuable collection, which included various portraits, busts and autographed letters from Lincoln.

On June 6, 1904, at 7:25 pm, Somers was returning from the post office and was crossing Hollywood Boulevard at Whitley Avenue when he was struck and killed by an electric cable car. At that intersection there was a strong arc light, and it was supposed that Somers confused it with the headlight of the electric car and, not being able to hear the warning bell, crossed the track just as the car came upon him.

J. W. Somers funeral was held at the home of his niece and interment was at Hollywood Cemetery.

The grave of James Waller Somers at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. It is located in Chandler Gardens (Section 12), just a short distance behind the J. Ross Clark family mausoleum.

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Rudolph Valentino: an alternate ending

Tuesday, August 22nd, 2017

UPDATE: If you can’t attend tomorrow’s Rudolph Valentino Memorial Service at 12:10 pm (PST) at Hollywood Forever’s Cathedral Mausoleum, the committee has authorized for the first time, a live streaming broadcast via Facebook on the Group, We Never Forget Rudolph Valentino. Join in and enjoy!

 

What if Natacha Rambova had still been married to Rudolph Valentino at the time of his death? Where might he be interred today?

When silent film star, Rudolph Valentino died prematurely at the age of 31 in 1926, chaos ensued. From the moment his death was announced at New York’s Polyclinic Hospital, until he was laid to rest in Hollywood, riots, rumors and unrest followed the actors body.

And not unlike the circumstances regarding the death and burial of pop super-star, Michael Jackson, there were questions and disagreements over where the body of Rudolph Valentino would rest.

As Valentino lay dying at Polyclinic hospital, his brother Alberto was anxiously making his way from Italy and found out about his brother’s death when he arrived at the Paris train station. Later that day, Alberto released a statement affirming that Valentino would be buried in America.

“This is what he would have desired,” Alberto said. “He so loved America that I am sure he wanted to be buried there – rather, even, than beside our father and mother in Italy. He loved Italy, but he loved the country of his adoption and his success more.”

However, two days later, Alberto altered his decision, stating that he needed to discuss the matter with his sister Maria and Rudy’s American friends. Until then, no decision would be made.

Surprised by this turn of events, many wondered where Valentino would be interred. Rudy’s sister, Maria, told reporters by telephone from her home in Turin that she wished for her brother to be buried in Castellaneta (Valentino’s birthplace). “It is my desire that Rudolph be buried in Italy,” she said, “and I hope that my brother Alberto, now en route to New York, will agree to this.” Citizens of Valentino’s home town agreed and started making plans to welcome the body of their fellow townsman. A committee was organized to collect funds to erect a stately tomb in the town’s cemetery.

Valentino’s manager, George Ullman, still hoped to take his friend’s body back to Hollywood. “I think he belongs there and hope to so persuade his brother,” he said. Pola Negri (Valentino’s alleged fiancé) agreed, telling reporters that she too hoped Alberto would bring Rudy’s body back to the city where the actor had his greatest success. “Because he spent so many happy hours – his happiest hours – here, and because I am here,” she said. “I want him buried in Hollywood. But if his brother should wish him buried in Italy, to lie beside his father and mother – that is different. I can understand that.”

Valentino’s first wife, Jean Acker, sided with the Italian delegation. “I think he would prefer to lie by the side of his mother and father in Italy,” she said. “But I have no say in it. Who am I to say anything?”

Meanwhile, a contingent of Hollywood producers, directors, and actors cabled Alberto, urging that Valentino be buried in Los Angeles. “We, of the Hollywood motion picture colony, who knew, worked with and loved Rudolph Valentino, urge you to order that his mortal remains be allowed to rest forever here, where his friendships were formed and where he made his home,” they wrote. It was signed by thirty-eight Hollywood personalities, including Charlie Chaplin, Marion Davies, Antonio Moreno, Ramon Novarro, Norman Kerry and Louis B. Mayer.

Alberto was very appreciative of the honor and interest that Rudy’s friends bestowed upon his brother, but hoped they would not insist on an immediate decision. “I have communicated with my sister in Turin,” he responded by cable. “There are many factors that must be taken into consideration. I cannot reach a decision until I reach New York.”

Being Valentino’s next of kin, the decision was left to Alberto, and as everyone now knows, that decision was for Hollywood Cemetery where Valentino still rests to this day. However, what if Valentino had still been married to Natacha Rambova at the time of his death? The decision would have been hers. If so, where would his remains be now?

Rudy, Winifred Hudnut, Natacha, Richard Hudnut

At the time of his death, Natacha was in France with her family. The only hint of what her plans would have been if history had been different was a brief cable she sent to Ullman during the fight over where Rudy’s body would lie.

“Unless otherwise directed by Rudolph, we prefer cremation; ashes to be placed in temporary security,” she wrote. “Later could go to my plot in Woodlawn.”

Woodlawn Cemetery is in the Bronx section of New York where many of the city’s historical figures are buried. Silent film actress Olive Thomas was interred there by her husband Jack Pickford just six years earlier.

The huge family plot of Richard Hudnut at Woodlawn Cemetery where only he and his two wives are interred. Who else could he have been expecting? Natacha had her ashes scattered.

Natacha’s step-father, Richard Hudnut, the famed perfume manufacturer, had a huge family plot at Woodlawn, where his first wife Evelyn was buried in 1919 and where he and his second wife Winifred (Natacha’s mother) were later buried.

Ullman, of course, did not take Natacha’s offer seriously. First, he insisted that cremation was impossible since the Catholic Church did not allow it, and Rudy, who had drifted away from his childhood faith, had returned to it on his deathbed. Ullman recalled that several years earlier they had discussed cremation, and Rudy had said, “Well, when I die I’d like to be cremated and have my ashes scattered to the winds.” Ullman insisted that Rudy was joking.

However, to continue with our speculation, had the couple still been married, the chances are that Valentino would have been buried at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Hudnut family plot. Now the only question would be if the yearly memorial services that have taken place since the actor’s death would become a ritual at Woodlawn, or would his memory have faded as so many silent film stars of the day have?

 

 

 

In any event, the 90th Annual Rudolph Valentino Memorial Service will be held tomorrow, Wednesday, August 23, 2017, at 12:10 pm, in the Cathedral Mausoleum at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, where the actors body still resides. The public is welcome.

 

 

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Eugene Plummer, the Last of the Dons

Saturday, August 5th, 2017

Eugene Rafael Plummer (Los Angeles Public Library)

By Allan R. Ellenberger

He was straight of stature, succinct of speech, and as well-versed in nature as he was in the old days when Hollywood was not yet a dream and Los Angeles was a dusty pueblo.  Eugene Rafael Plummer, the man for whom Plummer Park in West Hollywood was named, was born in San Francisco on January 8, 1852. His father, John Cornelius Plummer  was a Canadian sea captain and his mother, Maria, was half Spanish and half Irish, a mixture which gave the younger Plummer the fire and romance of old Spain and the devil-may-care temperament of the Irish.

When Eugene was 16, Captain Plummer moved his family to Los Angeles where he homesteaded 160 acres of land where the Ambassador Hotel stood. He later acquired property which is now bounded by Wilshire and Beverly Boulevards, and La Brea Avenue and Vine Street.

In 1828, the land that now encompasses Plummer Park was a part of the 4,439 acre Rancho La Brea, granted by Governor Echandia to Antonio Rocha. After several selling’s, the property was sold to Major Hancock in 1865 for $2.50 an acre. In 1874, Plummer acquired the official title to the Plummer Rancho comprising 160-acres between Sunset and Santa Monica Boulevards and La Brea and Gardner Avenues.

That same year, on the three acres of land that eventually became Plummer Park, Captain Plummer’s sons, Juan (John) and Eugene built their home, a typical ranch house.

Plummer House, the home of Eugene Plummer that stood in Plummer Park for over 100 years. (Los Angeles Public Library)

In the early days Plummer’s home was the only habitation from Hollywood to the Plaza district and rattlesnakes, cactus and bandits were his only companions. Later, his home was the headquarters for the Vaquero Club, a group of adventurous horse riders.

In 1881, Plummer married Maria Amparo La Moraux and the couple had a daughter that they named Frances. As a court reporter for 25 years, she would befriend the pueblo’s Mexicans and act as their interpreter in court cases.

As early as 1922, the acreage was unofficially called Plummer Park. Six years later, options were offered by a committee of prominent bankers and businessmen to make it official. Plummer hoped to make around $25,000 from the deal but nothing ever came of it. In 1925, his wife Maria died and was interred at Hollywood Cemetery next to his father John.

By this time, Eugene Plummer was Hollywood’s oldest resident, and his homestead became its oldest residence. Each year, he would host the old-timers picnic which was open to as many of Hollywood’s original residents that were still living.

Gradually, Plummer’s debts continued to mount until he was forced into foreclosure. Ironically, Plummer once owned 142 acres where the Hollywood Bowl now is and sold it to a company named Burnoff & Teal for $2,400. In the 1930s, that same area was worth millions.  In 1935, Plummer Park was registered as a landmark. Finally, the county stepped in and acquired the Plummer land in 1937 for $15,000. Plummer was sad at the passing of his heritage, but never bitter.

Development of the park began the following year with the construction of a recreation building called the Great Hall/Long Hall at a cost of $65,000. The Spanish style structure, made of stucco and a red tile roof, included a dining room seating 300 persons. The building also had a library and reading room. The patio, adjacent to the kitchen, would seat 600 and was shaded by three ancient olive trees.

One condition of the purchase was that Senor Plummer be permitted to occupy the premises as long as he lived. The county designated him as the historical guide for the park. Plummer Park was filled with a fine collection of rare trees and plants. One pepper tree had a branch growing out horizontally over seventy-five feet in length. The limb was trained by Plummer by keeping a horseshoe on the end of it for many years.

The old frame home built by Plummer and his brother in 1874, was now used as the headquarters of the Audubon Society, and the office of the park superintendent. A modern home adjacent to the parks property became Plummer’s new home where he lived for the remainder of his life.

(Los Angeles Public Library)

In his later years Senor Plummer would sit beneath the shady pepper trees of Plummer Park, rolling cigarettes from loose tobacco, or break store-bought cigarettes into three lengths and smoke them a few puffs at a time in an old amber holder. Between puffs, he would conjure up memories of the “good old days” for anyone who asked.

Pepper trees were his favorites. “They kept the flies away,” he maintained. There was the time he chased a deer all the way up to what is now the corner of Hollywood and Highland and lassoed it. Nearby, in a little arroyo, he killed a giant brown bear after it had been gored in three places by a wild bull.

Once, in Laurel Canyon, he shot an antelope on the hillside but couldn’t find the bullet hole. “You scare him to death, senor,” said the old Indian who was with him. But it was later found that the bullet went right up the spine and lodged in the antelope’s brain. “Once in a million times,” said the Don concisely.

When Helen Hunt Jackson was writing “Ramona,” she used to visit Senor Plummer at his home for advice the early days of California. “If anybody is Alessandro, I am,” he said once during an interview, “for I showed Mrs. Jackson how young Spaniards and Indians made love.”

Senor Plummer welcomes actress Ruth Roland and banker G. G. Greenwood to Plummer Park.

Plummer delighted in wearing a tan leather jacket given to him by his friend Buffalo Bill. Another of his friends in the early days was the bandit Tiburcio Vasquez, who was shot by authorities in 1875. Plummer’s presence at the park gave it an air that no other presence could.

The plan was to keep the park in its original state for a unique gathering place for groups and societies. Barbecues and songfests under the old peppers and the eucalyptus trees were planned as the whirl of Hollywood traffic sped by. Visitors were sheltered by the towering blue gums, the gnarled old olives and the gigantic cypress that Plummer planted with his own hand in the late 1800s. Besides the old ranch house, the servant’s houses, the old barns, the barbecue pit, the old windmill, and the rodeo grounds, it became a chapter of the past brought into the present for the public.

Year after year Senor Plummer continued to enthrall and entertain the visitors to his park. To the last his mind and memory remained keen and filled with humorous memories. Then, one day, the Don suffered a heart attack in his home at Plummer Park. He wanted to remain at his hacienda with his collections of saddles, boots and guns, but friends convinced him to go to the hospital where he sank into a coma from which he never recovered. Senor Eugene Plummer died on May 19, 1943. He was 91 years old.

Eugene Plummer’s death certificate. (Click on image to enlarge)

Rosary for Eugene Plummer was recited in the chapel of Pierce Bros. Hollywood Mortuary. Mass was celebrated the following day at St. Ambrose’s Church at Fountain and Fairfax Avenues. More than 300 persons, most of them descendants of some of California’s oldest families, attended the rites. Plummer was interred next to his father and wife at Hollywood Cemetery.

The Plummer Family marker at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. The names of  Plummers’ father and Eugene’s wife Maria are engraved. For whatever reason, Senor Plummer was never marked.

The Eugene Plummer family plot at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

As for the Plummer House, it was known as the “Oldest House in Hollywood” and was designated as State Historical Landmark No. 160 in 1935. The Audubon Society continued to use Plummer’s old homestead to house their library and exhibits until 1980. Sadly, vandals set fire to it twice, and ruined the Audubon’s library and exhibits. The house was almost destroyed and stood abandoned and filled with trash for over two years. It was almost razed. Happily, the Leonis Adobe Association heard about the house’s fate and arranged with the county to move the front part to the Leonis Adobe grounds. The house has since been repaired and restored, and is now a Visitor’s Center and Gift Shop.

The old house that Plummer and his brother built was moved to Leonis Adobe grounds in Calabasas.

Plummer Park was once again in the news for the drastic changes that the city of West Hollywood planned. If you asked visitors to Plummer Park, or members of West Hollywood’s city council, who Eugene Plummer was, they probably wouldn’t know. Virtually nothing remains of the park that Don Plummer knew and loved, and sadly, there is only one plaque that mentions him. Hopefully, that will be corrected.


When in Los Angeles, visit Plummer Park at 7377 Santa Monica Blvd. in West Hollywood.

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The 90th Rudolph Valentino Memorial Service

Sunday, July 30th, 2017

“We Never Forget”

By Tracy Terhune

The Valentino Memorial Service will be held on Wednesday, August 23, 2017. This year marks the 90th anniversary of this time-honored event. The Valentino Memorial Service is the oldest continuing annual event in Hollywood history!

To commemorate this historic anniversary, I am excited to announce that the Valentino Memorial Service will be broadcast LIVE over the internet via Facebook Live. This affords anyone, anywhere in the world to watch the Valentino Memorial Service live, in real time as it occurs. At the conclusion, the service will be viewable in a stored post on the “We Never Forget” Facebook group.

In addition to being broadcast live, we will be using a completely new sound system that we anticipate to vastly improve the sound problem that is inherited due to the marble hall where the service is held. We also will have our videos projected on a 10 foot by 12 foot screen.

Our guest speakers will include:

Terry Moore with James Dean in 1954.

 

Terry Moore – noted screen star will address the Memorial for the first time about Hollywood’s Golden Era and how Valentino paved the way for screen romance.

 

 

 

 

Joan Craig – Author of the book Theda Bara My Mentor will speak on her recollections of attending the Valentino Memorial as a young girl. The person who brought her to the Valentino Memorial was none other than Theda Bara!

 

 

 

 

Sylvia Valentino Huber (Pinterest)

 

 

Sylvia Valentino Huber – We are honored that Sylvia Valentino Huber, who’s grandfather was Valentino’s brother, will address the audience with thoughts from the family on the occasion of the 90th anniversary of the Memorial for her great uncle.

 

 

In addition to the listed speakers we will have some short video presentations, including a tribute to past participants in the Valentino Memorial Service through the years. There will also be poetry read from Daydreams and songs of reflection.

Please join us on August 23, 2017

The service starts promptly at 12:10pm

Located at:

Hollywood Forever Cemetery

6000 Santa Monica Blvd.

It is free, open to the public.

The Facebook Live streaming will start approximately at 12 noon.

 

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The life of Thomas Smith Robson; an adventurer, practical joker and low class Bohemian

Friday, July 14th, 2017

By Allan R. Ellenberger

Thomas Smith Robson, the scion of a great English family, was the son of Robert Robson, Esq., Newcastle-on-Tyne, and Emily Jane Snowden. His brother, William Snowden Robson, was an English lawyer, judge and liberal politician and a Member of Parliament. There was no similarity between these brothers: while Thomas was a jolly, roistering, and mad-cap fellow, his brother William was the personification of English respectability. Both brothers were born at 26 Eaton Square, a somber but eminently aristocratic square of London.

In his early life, Robson earned a PhD at Heidelberg, Oxford and other institutions. He was an expert chemist, man of letters, a thorough student of law, and an expert linguist of several European languages. Robson possessed a splendid physique, lived only at night, and slept during the day. When he wanted an evening alone, he would order a dozen quarts of Riesling wine, and drink the entire batch before the sun rose. He eventually became an embarrassment, dimming the dignity of his family traditions, and was sent on his way.

In 1890, he arrived in Denver with fourteen trunks and a desire to do something unusual. Accordingly, he took up with an infamous army officer whose only asset was his military title. Breaking ties with his family, he spent his last cent getting to Montreal, where he and the officer bluffed their way into the most fashionable hotel on the officer’s signature. From there, they became reporters on the Montreal Star until they were found out and were driven from the town.

Robson then went to Boston and was hired as a waiter in a 10-cent lodging house. Evidently this was not strenuous enough, so he hitch-hiked to Roxbury in mid-winter, eating only green apples for ten days. He then met a wealthy New Yorker, who attempted to make him a general agent of a big colonization scheme. However, Robson would rather starve than work for another man, so he became a stove tinker, making his way to Montana on a stock train. On the way, he was taken care of by an actor who owned a large stock farm; he promised to give Robson a good salaried job for as long as he wanted it. Five miles before reaching the farm, Robson changed his mind and jumped off the train; away from the actor permanently.

Robson traveled to Northern California and stirred up a band of Indians living on a reservation, to do wild deeds; he stayed with them for many months. His next stop was San Francisco, but he remained there only a short time. In 1896, he jumped on a train for Los Angeles. There he met J.R. Carson, who ran the Old Curiosity Shop on North Main Street, Carson persuaded Robson to write home to his family. He did, and discovered that his father was dead, and that he and his brother shared the estate. He was not interested in money except for the good he could do with it, and the trouble he could stir up.

With his inheritance, he booked a suite at the Van Nuys Hotel, but then he rented a 25-cent room in a lodging house where he would sleep. He made a bet with friends that he could escort one of the most notorious women in the city to one of the best hotels. He won his bet by bribing the clerk with a hatful of money. A quick trip to San Francisco followed, and there he sent out invitations to his former cohorts, a collection of loafers and loungers that he treated to a royal banquet at the Poodle Dog, San Francisco’s first and most famous French restaurant. On the way back to his apartment, he lay down in a mud puddle in his evening clothes, defied the police and stopped traffic. A wrecking car crew, and a wagon load of officers put him to bed.

Returning to Los Angeles, Robson found that a sewer trench was open on Main Street, and as a practical joke, he hired a gang of men to fill it up in the middle of the night. Then he engaged several undertakers, and had horses and lines of funeral coaches sit outside a friend’s house all day. Another time, about a hundred boys rushed into a busy drug store in response to a fake advertisement Robson had enlisted in the newspaper.

Finally, bored with his antics, he started for England. Stopping at New York, he bought a hand organ and a monkey from an Italian street musician, and performed up and down Fifth Avenue until he was arrested and put in jail. In Paris, he threw gold around the streets, and gave away money to every homeless person he could find. One day, when someone gave him a bad Franc, he became angry. So to show his disdain, he emptied all his money down a sewer and was left penniless. Once he replenished his supply of money, he attempted a “scientific demonstration” of the insidious effects of constant absinthe drinking, and informed his friends that he was now engaged in a work that would benefit humanity. This experiment resulted in his being locked up in a private asylum.

Going to London, his brother William was not pleased to see him; his antics were not those of a dignified Member of Parliament. But Robson was offended by a speech his brother made, so he left for Venice. There, he tried to organize the gondoliers into two factions; soon they were insulting and fighting each other before fleeing in the middle of the night. Returning to Paris, he remained there for a year or two.

Finally, he returned to Los Angeles. He was in ill health and asked Benjamin Balmer for help. Balmer took him into his home and cared for him. Robson allegedly settled down except for an occasional night of his own when he would lock himself in his room and drink. However, he kept clear of trouble and the police.

Balmer claimed that Robson had unclean habits and was frequently intoxicated. In spite of this, Robson was well cared for by the Balmer family, and Mrs. Balmer would serve as a nurse for him. For the last two years of his life, he was a broken man and scarcely able to help himself. On January 12, 1904, Thomas Smith Robson died at the Balmer home at 465 Bixel Street. He was 49 years old.

Robson’s body was buried in the Chandler Gardens section at what is now Hollywood Forever Cemetery. A large granite cross was placed on his grave.

The inscription:

“Sacred to the Memory of Thomas Smith Robson PhD (Heid) Youngest Son of R. Robson Esq. J.P. of New Castle Upon Tyne England. He Died at Los Angeles on 12th January 1904 Aged 49 Years. The Dead Shall Be Raised Incorruptible And We Shall All Be Changed.”

Robson left a considerable estate valued at about $50,000 in England, personal property in California amounting to $9,490 and real estate valued at $3,450. Robson left his entire estate to his brother William in England. William hired an administrator in San Francisco to handle his brother’s estate. For the care and attention that the Balmer’s gave Robson, they asked for $4,000 from the administrator, and when they were refused, they brought suit. As a reward for his kindness toward Robson, Balmer was allowed $2,400 by the judge.

William Snowden Robson (1852-1918)

Note: Robson’s brother, William Snowdon Robson (1852-1918) was a Member of Parliament between 1885 and 1886. Robson married Catharine Burge, daughter of Charles Burge, of Portland Place, London in 1887. He was invested as a Queen’s Counsel in 1892. He again held the office of Member of Parliament between 1895 and 1910. In 1905, he was knighted and was appointed to the Privy Council. He was Solicitor General for England and Wales from 1905 to 1908, and Attorney General for England and Wales from 1908 to 1910 when he was made a Lord of Appeal in Ordinary and a life peer with the title Baron Robson, of Jesmond in the County of Northumberland. He resigned as Lord of Appeal two years later. William Snowdon Robson died aged 66, at Telham Court, Battle, Sussex. In available biographies, there is no mention of his younger brother, Thomas Smith Robson.

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Unsung Film Pioneer: William H. Clune; theater and film producer

Saturday, July 8th, 2017

William Henry Clune

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By Allan R. Ellenberger

Film history is filled with many pioneering men and women, other than Griffith, DeMille and Chaplin. In fact, there are many that are little known or forgotten today. Hollywoodland will explore the lives of some of these great trailblazers. Today, we look at the life of William H. Clune. 

William Henry Clune was a pioneer motion-picture theater owner, whose name is associated with the early days of film production. Born in Hannibal, Missouri, on August 18, 1862, Clune came to California in 1887. His interest in railroading ceased with the successful termination of a real estate venture, which provided him with sufficient capital to enter the field to which he devoted himself—the motion picture industry.

Clune began with a film exchange in 1907 which distributed the films of the pioneer producers including the old Essanay, Edison, Biograph and others. While operating the exchange, he opened his first theater, a penny arcade on Main Street, in Los Angeles. This was followed by the building of Clune’s Theater on Fifth at Main Streets where the Rossyln Hotel now stands. His next venture was leasing the property on Broadway between Fifth Avenue, and Sixth Street, where he built Clune’s Broadway Theater. Then he took over the Clune’s Auditorium at Fifth and Olive Streets, later renamed the Philharmonic Auditorium. He also built Clune’s Pasadena Theater and Clune’s Santa Ana Theater. At one time, his chain included theaters in Los Angeles, Pasadena, San Bernardino, Santa Ana and San Diego. .

Clune’s Broadway Theater as it appeared in 1910. (Cinema Treasures)

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Clune’s Broadway Theater (later called the Cameo), as it looked in 1999 (lapl)

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Clune’s Auditorium, originally located at Olive and Fifth Streets
across from Pershing Square. It is now a parking lot.

Clune’s Pasadena Theater is believed to be the city’s first movie house. The building, no longer a theater, still shows the original name. (Hometown-Pasadena)

In 1913, Clune and his wife Agnes sold their Pasadena mansion at 1203 Fair Oaks Avenue at the corner Monterey Road. The site is now a Pavilions grocery market. At this time, Clune separated from his wife and moved into an apartment at the Los Angeles Athletic Club at 431 West 7th Street. Agnes and their son James took up residence in another mansion at 314 South New Hampshire Avenue.

In 1915, Clune assumed control of Adolph Zukor’s Famous Players Studios on Melrose. On the property, Clune built rental studios for lease to independent production companies. ..

Clune’s Studio on Melrose (now Raleigh Studios).

At this studio, Clune produced and filmed Ramona (1916), the famous book dealing with early California life. Following that, Clune made other films including The Eyes of the World (1917) from the story of Harold Bell Wright.

William Clune stood out in motion picture production. In his room on the twelfth floor of the Los Angeles Athletic Club, many of the largest movie deals made were negotiated. Clune had faith in D.W. Griffith, and backed the director financially and agreed to exhibit The Clansman, which was later retitled The Birth of a Nation (1915) at Clune’s Auditorium where the world premiere was held.

As the executive head of a chain of screen houses, Clune was an active and shrewd showman. For a number of years, he fought an enforcement of old city ordinances prohibiting electric sign displays. City bureaus complained against Clune’s electrical advertisements, but Clune refused to budge from his determination to “light up Broadway.” ..

Clune liked to use electricity to “light up Broadway” much to the dismay of the city council..

In 1924, Clune retired from the theatrical business, having sold all his theaters and leased his studios on Melrose to the Tec-Art Company. Retirement from film production did not mean retirement from active business as he had acquired large holdings in downtown real estate, dating back to 1900, and had many other interests.

Shortly after noon on October 18, 1927, William H. Clune died of a stroke in his apartment at the Los Angeles Athletic Club. His body was taken to the Sunset Mortuary at 8814 Sunset Boulevard and he was interred in the Cathedral Mausoleum at Hollywood Cemetery..

William H. Clune’s crypt (no. 994) in the Cathedral Mausoleum at Hollywood Forever Cemetery

In addition to his other activities, Clune was on the regional board of the Bank of Italy, a member of the Brentwood Country Club, Jonathan Club and Elks Club.

Clune’s estate was bequeathed to his son James, the president of Clune’s holding company. Thought to be a millionaire several times over, yet few were able to estimate his actual fortune. His wife Agnes, according to his will, was not named but received her share of the estate by a property settlement years earlier. Publicly, the only estimate of the value of Clune’s estate at the time said that it “exceeds $10,000,” but most experts determined that it was close to $6 million which in today’s exchange would be around $81.5 million.

At the studios Clune owned on Melrose (across the street from Paramount), Douglas Fairbanks made The Mark of Zorro (1920) and The Three Musketeers (1921), Walt Disney rented space in the 1930s and the Hopalong Cassidy television series was filmed here, as were Superman. Robert Aldrich filmed Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and Ronald Reagan hosted Death Valley Days. In 1979, the heirs of William Clune sold the film plant and it became Raleigh Studios. The studio that William Clune created is believed to be the oldest continuously operating film studio in Hollywood. ..

Raleigh Studios (the old Clune Studios) today…

 

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The unsolved Hollywood murder of boxer Eddie Diggins

Saturday, June 17th, 2017

 

By Allan R. Ellenberger

During prohibition, speakeasies where bootleg liquor was sold, dotted the streets of Hollywood. One such establishment opened in March 1927 in a commonplace looking bungalow on the northeast corner of Cherokee and Selma, just one block south of Hollywood Boulevard. Called the Crescent Athletic Club, it was open only one week and already catered to some of Hollywood’s biggest celebrities.

The site of the Crescent Athletic Club at 1626 N. Cherokee Avenue just north of Selma. (Google maps)

During the early morning hours of Saturday, March 26, 1927, the crowd at the Crescent was still in revelry mode when Charles Meehan, “an actor turned real estate man” arrived with his wife, actress Irene Dalton. Meehan, who earned most of his income selling bootleg liquor (for which he had been convicted five time), entered the dining room where film director Jimmie Sinclair, screenwriter Jack Wagner, and stuntman Billy Jones, was at a table with comedian Lloyd Hamilton and Eddie Diggins, a former light-weight boxer now trying his hand at acting.

At this point, Diggins had had three supporting roles under his belt in which he played a boxer in all of them opposite Billy Sullivan, the nephew of boxer John L. Sullivan.

Diggins was born in San Francisco on January 8, 1902 to Edward Ayer Diggins Sr., a physician, and his wife Bessie. He attended St. Mary’s College High School in Berkeley before trying his hand at amateur boxing. On June 28, 1921, he debuted as a professional lightweight against Joe Brown. Over the next seven years he fought against some of the greatest boxers of the day including Eddie Landon, Tommy Cello, Johnny Nunes and Harry Eagles. During his career, his record included 72 bouts, of which Diggins had 34 wins (11 KOs), 22 losses (2 KOs) and 16 draws.

Moving to Los Angeles in July 1924, Diggins boxed at several area venues: The Arena in Vernon; Hollywood’s Legion Stadium, and the East Fourth Street Lyceum A. C. where, in a fight against John Battling Ward, he broke his hand.

While his hand healed, Diggins became friendly with many Hollywood elite including actors Bull Montana and Lloyd Hamilton, among others; some from Hollywood’s darker side. Hoping to broaden his talents, he tried the movies by landing a supporting role in The Goat Getter as champion pugilist ‘Lightening Bradley’ who is stocked by a fighter he knocked out played by actor Billy Sullivan. Diggins followed this with two more films opposite Sullivan: The Patent Leather Pug and One Punch O’Day.

On Friday, March 25, Diggins and his wife Marian, met Lloyd Hamilton at the crowded Crescent Athletic Club. Charles Meehan and his wife Irene joined Hamilton, Diggins, Jack Wagner, Billy Jones, Jimmie Sinclair and others, at their table.

Shortly before 3 a.m. the next morning, an argument arose between Diggins and Jack Wagner in which the latter was knocked down. Later, Charles Meehan exchanged blows with Billie Jones, who reportedly had made an insulting remark about Meehan’s wife Irene. One thing led to another and according to Jones, “Everybody was pretty woozy. Everybody seemed willing to fight. I heard someone yelling ‘le’ go, le’ go,’ and after that all I remember is a lot of feet.”

The patrons in the other rooms flocked to the dining-room door to see what was happening. Legs were torn from heavy tables for clubs; bottles were hurled in every direction. Suddenly, someone struck Meehan over the head with a chair, while Diggins squared off for battle with half-a-dozen other trouble-seekers. Then the lights in the nightclub went out.

Patrons made a mad scramble for the doors and windows. Witnesses claimed thumps and crashes could be heard in the darkness. A woman said she heard “a scream of pain.” When the lights were turned on, Billy Jones was getting up from all fours and saw Diggins lying on the floor among broken chandelier glass with blood streaming from his chest.

In the darkness, Jimmie Sinclair had taken Irene Dalton by the arm and led her outside to his car. They drove around the block to allow the excitement to die down until Irene told Sinclair, “Charlie will get killed,” so they returned to the now nearly empty club. Irene found her husband in an adjacent room, unconscious with wounds to his head.

By now, Lloyd Hamilton had returned from the barroom and was holding a bloodied Diggins in his arms, trying vainly to revive the boxer. Within minutes, police had arrived and rammed open the front doors and rushed through the club. However, it was too late for Diggins who had died in Hamilton’s arms.

Detectives immediately concluded that Diggins’ wound was caused by a knife, but one could not be found in the surrounding debris. The club’s employees and lingering patrons were interviewed by the police and the place was searched for liquor (six gallons of wine, five gallons of alcohol and twenty-six bottles of gin were found).

Somehow, a drunken Charles Meehan was found collapsed in the alley behind the club. After reviving him, Meehan curiously told police, “I slugged him through the window,” repeating it several times before being removed in an ambulance.

Eight people, including Lloyd Hamilton, were interviewed at Hollywood’s central station on Wilcox Avenue. Hamilton claimed that when the fight started, he left the dining room because he “didn’t want to get mixed up in it.” After the commotion died down, he returned and saw Diggins on the floor. “I was trying to revive him when the police came in,” he said.

Not surprisingly, many of the witnesses had a lapse of memory, didn’t see what happened, or gave conflicting stories. Charles Meehan was briefly detained as a suspect but was exonerated at the coroner’s inquest.

After a police investigation, it was thought that Diggins wounds were not caused by a knife, but by a sharp piece of glass from a broken chandelier. Thus, his death was accidental. The clothing above Diggins wound showed two distinct cuts while there was only one small wound about an inch wide and an inch and a half deep below his heart. This indicated the death instrument was two-edged, sharp on either side but with two points, one shorter than the other and insufficient enough to penetrate the body.

District Attorney E. J. Dennison said he could find no evidence indicating that Diggins was murdered. “A knife is lacking as none was to be found at the scene or on any of the persons who were there,” he said.

Even though the police and district attorney believed Diggins death was accidental from him falling on a jagged piece of glass, seven members of the Coroner’s jury reached a decision that Eddie Diggins met his death from “a sharp instrument in the hand of a person or persons unknown to us, with homicidal intent.” The eighth member believed the “wound was caused by a piece of glass, accidental.” The autopsy surgeon testified that Diggins’ wound “could have been caused by broken glass,” but couldn’t confirm it. The word “homicide” was formally written on Diggins death certificate. Officially, Eddie Diggins death was ruled a homicide, and as such, is still unsolved.

During the investigation, several theories surfaced about Diggins death. One was that the mob had induced the fracas at the Crescent as a diversion, and they had covertly murdered Diggins. To support this theory, some witnesses claimed that six men had swiftly driven away during the brawl.

Pudgy-faced comedian Lloyd Hamilton supposedly became a scape-goat after the Diggins murder, reportedly being banned from the screen for two years. Strangely enough, Hamilton and Irene Dalton, a frequent co-star of the comedians and the wife of Charles Meehan, were married three months later and divorced in 1929.

Funeral services for Eddie Diggins was arranged by the Catholic Film Guide and held on March 30, 1927 in the chapel of the O’Connell Sunset Mortuary.

Interment was in Hollywood Cemetery in Section 6, Grave 0318. Eddie Diggins grave is directly across from the peacock pens on the north side of the cemetery. Diggins is in the third row from the curb.

The grave marker of boxer/actor Eddie Diggins at Hollywood Forever Cemetery

Please check out a rare five-minute clip of Eddie Diggins from his last film, One Punch O’Day (1926) with Billy Sullivan. Diggins is the boxer in the dark shorts.

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