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IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR

Jeff Elliott Leave a comment

When setting the dial on your time machine, there were few better years to be in Santa Rosa than 1911. Yeah, it wasn’t that long ago I said the same thing about 1910, but I was young and ignorant back then, eight months ago.

This was the year Santa Rosa finally was catching up to Bay Area cities; downtown was looking more cosmopolitan with its paved streets, electric signs and several vaudeville and movie theaters. We were even in the movies; the popular Essanay Film Company came to Santa Rosa and shot a few scenes in town, including a chase down Fourth street. There were car ads in nearly every edition of the Press Democrat and autos or motorcycles were everywhere, thanks in great part to the new option of buying on credit.

The big event of 1911 was Fred J. Wiseman’s flight from Petaluma to Santa Rosa. Decades later we found out it was kinda historic, but at the time everyone was cranked up for three days waiting to hear the factory whistles, bells, and “succession of bomb explosions” which would cue them to dash quickly outside in hopes of a glimpse of Wiseman soaring over downtown. He actually crashed outside city limits, of course, but it was still exciting that he almost made it. And then there was the enjoyment of reading the juvenile (but hilarious!) squabbling between the editors of the two papers over which of them liked Fred best.

This was also the year when (male) voters would decide whether women had a right to vote, and two of the most prominent fighters on both sides were in the North Bay. Passage was by no means assured; passions ran high for months as both sides tried to persuade the public it was the right thing to do – or that it would lead to the end of civilization. Before it came down to the nail-biting vote, Sonoma County and the entire Bay Area had been blanketed with banners, posters, leaflets and postcards from the suffragists and the “anti’s.”

On the seamier side, Santa Rosa was mesmerized by two big events. The year began with the jury verdict in the Burke trial, where an esteemed local physician and health spa owner was charged with trying to kill his mistress and infant son with dynamite. And in late autumn, there was a terrible scandal that involved poison pen letters and a prominent women’s social club acting as vigilantes. Although both local papers tried to downplay the scandal, before it was over there were two suicides that could not be ignored.

As this is the last main entry for 1911, here are some little updates to previous stories and other bits of “string too small to save,” followed by a selection of ads that captured the spirit of the times.

* Shortly after the women’s right to vote was placed on the ballot, California passed a law that limited women to no more than eight hours of work a day or 48 hours a week. Loopholes exempting women who did the hardest manual labor was one reason it was controversial; it also gave employers an incentive to fire women who worked in stores and offices (read more details here). Once it was enacted Santa Rosa businesses were heard to gripe loudly – apparently many women had been expected to work 55 hours a week or more. Store managers complained it would force them to stagger shifts or have male employees pick up the extra work. Read between the lines of the article below, however, and you’ll find they were worried men couldn’t be trusted with the cash register or keep from screwing up the inventory.

* The Santa Rosa papers were unabashedly parochial when it came to doings around town, reporting on who grew a big turnip and who had invited friends over for cards, but very rarely did they scrape up news about someone getting new furniture. The only exceptions I recall are for pieces made by master craftsman Frank S. Smith, who created them in his home workshop on Ripley street. He was last mentioned in 1909 when he built a 14-foot dining room table for the owners of Hood Mansion (photo here), and in 1911 he finished a complete living room and reception hall set for pharmacist Hahman and his family. The interesting angle is that the furniture was intended to harmonize with the house – which was built the year before and designed by Brainerd Jones. The home at 718 McDonald Avenue is the fourth Shingle Style design that Jones created in Santa Rosa and is the most conventional. Where the 1902 Paxton House, 1905 Comstock House and 1908 Saturday Afternoon Club were in the Eastern Shingle Style that tried to be both rustic and elegant, the Hahman House is more like an example of the Prairie School – an American Foursquare with Craftsman features. Still, it must have seemed shockingly modern amidst McDonald Avenue’s row of dull Victorian mansions.

* Now out of jail and 50 years old, the life of Joe Forgett continued to be a slow-motion train wreck. Back in 1907 he made headlines by leading a breakout at the Sonoma County jail where ten prisoners overpowered the guard. Among the inmates was his wife, behind bars for “vagrancy” – the usual charge for prostitution – and later at trial, Joe said he had to escape because jailor “old Fred” was putting the moves on his wife. His family pled for mercy because he had been an opium addict for fifteen years. Joe’s wife left him in 1911 and he petitioned for divorce which was a bit unusual, seeing that the couple was childless and poor (Joe lived until 1940 and was buried in the county’s Potter’s Field as an indigent). He was also in the papers earlier that year for failing to return a horse and buggy he borrowed in order to talk to someone about a job. “After transacting his business, Forgett forgot that he had driven to the place, and walked away, leaving the horse standing in front of the residence where he had called,” reported the Santa Rosa Republican.

* The “wild man of Mendocino county” was found dead at the entrance to his cave near Hopland, and predictably the news was reported in Santa Rosa and other papers around the Bay Area. As mentioned here earlier, newspapers loved “wild men” stories and reprinted them even if the poor lunatic was wandering in the woods hundreds of miles away. Often it was followed with an ancillary item about someone hoping the guy might be a long-lost relative; after “Aemldo” Secso – also called Amedo Sesco and earlier, Amelio Regoni – was caught in 1909, a mother contacted Cloverdale police to ask if the man could be her son. And sure enough, while searching for updates to that story in a newspaper database, I found another “wild man of Mendocino county” account from 1949, and this time a woman thought the hermit could be her hubby, who suffered PTSD from his time in a German prisoner of war camp.

* San Francisco doctor Eugene West, who performed a 1909 abortion on a young Santa Rosa woman who later died, was again arrested after 22 year-old Laura Taylor also developed life-threatening complications. As with the earlier case, no charges were apparently filed against him. It was the second abortion that year for the former Santa Rosa resident, who was now cutting cloth in San Francisco. As per usual, the newspapers never mentioned the word “abortion” and called it the “malpractice” or “criminal operation.”


The Native Sons of the Golden West held their convention in Santa Rosa, which tripled the town’s population for the weekend as residents were asked to register any available rooms in their home to accommodate visitors. This odd front page of the Republican might have been a giveaway to conventioneers. 


HOW MERCHANTS OBSERVE WOMEN’S EIGHT HOUR LAW
Constitutionality of Law to be Tested In Los Angeles

The law making it compulsory not to employ women over eight hours a day, or 48 hours a week, has upset the routine of work in stores and factories in this city to a considerable extent, just as it has all over California. The law went into effect Monday morning. Most of the merchants find little trouble in regulating the work for most of the days of the week, but Saturday is the day that bothers the merchants. How to arrange for keeping open stores on Saturday night, there’s the rub. Most of the merchants believe that eight hours a day is long enough for women to work, but find themselves at a loss just how to arrange that Saturday night proposition. This may result in an effort to have the stores close Saturday evening the same as on other evenings. With this idea in view the question will be presented to the Chamber of Commerce in an effort to bring about some agreement among the merchants in the matter.

The merchant is confronted by another feature that is troublesome. That is, shortening the hours of the cashier. In most cases there is one cashier, who has the complete handling of the cash and in that way she is entirely responsible for her cash balance, but she cannot now be employed over eight hours a day. The proprietor of the place of business that is open from 8 o’clock in the morning until 6 o’clock will take care of the cash for those hours that the cashier is not present until he has figured out some other way it can be carried out just as safe as at present.

This being open on Saturday night would be all right if any person without experience could go into a store and be a competent clerk. An experienced clerk must get acquainted with his stock to be capable. The employment of inexperienced persons invariably result in stock becoming badly disarranged and in unintentional blunders. For that reason the stores do not like to put on additional help. The question has been raised, “Does the law affect the employment of girls doing housework?”

A. T. Sutherland, of the Santa Rosa Department Store, says he has not arranged for the Saturday evening difficulty. He is complying with the eight hour law by having the women help come to the store at 9 o’clock, the men clerks attending to the customers who come to work earlier than that.

The Pioneer laundry has discontinued paying by the day, and instead pays by the hour. The flat work price has been raised a trifle and the girls come to work at different hours and quit according to the time they begin work.

The Domestic French Laundry states that their help will begin at 8 o’clock and quit at 5 o’clock.

The Santa Rosa French Laundry states that the law does not affect it, as it has always observed the eight hour day.

The Red Front, Max Rosenberg proprietor, has not completed his arrangements for Saturday nights. He is an advocate of the plan favoring the closing of the dry goods department at 6 o’clock Saturday nights. The week is fixed for in this store by having the girls go to work at 8 o’clock one week and quitting at 5 o’clock, and the other half beginning at 9 o’clock and quitting at 6 o’clock. Each week the girls are to change these hours, the girls going to work at 9 o’clock this week being those to go to work next week at 8 o’clock and vice versa.

Carithers & Forsyth have their women help come to work at 9 o’clock. For Saturday night they plan to have their men clerks handle all the trade at present.

F. C. Loomis has made provision for compliance with the law by employing extra help.

The law is to be tested in Los Angeles and it is the belief of many that the law will be declared unconstitutional.

– Santa Rosa Republican, May 23, 1911
FURNITURE FOR HAHMAN HOME
Designed and Made by Decorator F. S. Smith

Frank S. Smith has just completed and delivered to Paul T. Hahman one of the handsomest sets of furniture which graces the homes of the City of Roses. Mr. Smith is a decorator, and does special works in furniture and draperies. The set which he has manufactured for Mr. And Mrs. Hahman is artistic and handsome in every way. The entire work was done in Mr. Smith’s small workshop on his premises at 1209 Ripley street.

The furniture made by the Santa Rosan was for the reception hall and living room of the handsome Hahman residence. A reception chair, cozy arm chair, table and tabouret were designed and made for the reception hall. The furniture for the living room included a mammoth Davenport, two large rockers, one large easy chair, a window chair, pedestal tabouret and large table with drawer.

Mr. Smith claims for this set of furniture that there has been nothing made where the identical lines are carried out and still secure the uniform lines are carried out and still secure the uniform lines as in the pieces he has turned out for Mr. Hahman. It was designed and made exclusively for the Hahman home, and to harmonize with the other furnishings and draperies of the residence. Mr. Smith manufactures furniture of different designs for each particular home. He has made an elegant dining room set for Senator and Mrs. Thomas Kearns of Kenwood.

All of the furniture for Mr. Hahman is upholstered in a silk damask of conventional figure, in two tones of brown. The elegant Davenport is 78 inches long and 30 inches deep. All of the furniture is equipped with sunken leather casters, which prevents scratching the polished floors of the home. It is all made of heavy quarter sawed oak and finished with a handsome piano polish, which makes it have an appearance of elegance seldom found in furniture.

 – Santa Rosa Republican, April 7, 1911
FORGETT FORGOT TO RETURN BORROWED HORSE

Joe Forgett, the cement contractor of this city, had an absent minded spell on Monday, and forgot to return a horse which he borrowed from Stewart & McDoughall, local plumbers.

The horse and vehicle were loaned Forgett to drive to the home of a prospective customer, and the firm did not know where the man had driven the animal. After transacting his business, Forgett forgot that he had driven to the place, and walked away, leaving the horse standing in front of the residence where he had called.

When the animal was not returned at closing time for the plumbing firm, Charles Stewart made a tour of many sections of the city looking for the animal. Many people were notified of the missing property and these were also on the lookout for the horse and wagon.

About 8:30 o’clock Monday evening Jack Sarraihl discovered the missing property out on Charles street. In the mean time Stewart had ridden many miles on a bicycle seeking his property.

 – Santa Rosa Republican, February 21, 1911
MRS. FORGETT HAS FORGOTTEN
Failed to Return; Husband Seeks Divorce

Joseph N. Forget, who has resided here for many years, has petitioned the Superior Court for a decree of divorce. The papers were filed on Monday and in due time the petitioner expects that the decree will be awarded him. The defendant is Jessie Isadore Forget and she is charged with desertion. That Mrs. Forget went away and forgot to return is the burden of the complaint of the husband. Attorney Ross CAmpbell represents Forget.

 – Santa Rosa Republican, November 6, 1911
DEATH TAMES ‘WILD MAN’ OF MENDOCINO

Death last week ended the career of Aemldo Secso, who was for a number of years known as the “wild man of Mendocino county.” The man lived for years on the pilferings he made from logging camps, and although every endeavor was made to capture him, he avoided arrest for several years. Finally he was captured and after being imprisoned he returned to his old haunts, but forgot some of his wildness. He died in Mendocino county.

– Press Democrat, September 24, 1911
DR. WEST IS FACING CHARGE
The Police of San Francisco Acted Friday

Dr. Eugene West of San Francisco  has been charged with having committed an unlawful operation on Miss Laura Taylor, a Sonoma county girl, by the police of that city.

Miss Taylor has been removed from the Central Emergency hospital to the Lane hospital, where on Friday she was hovering between life and death. It is not believed she can survive, her condition being such as to almost preclude the possibility of her being saved.

William Patterson, an electrician, is being held as an accomplice to the alleged crime. He admits that he knew the girl had an operation performed by Dr. West last March, and says that recently she telephoned him asking for financial assistance for another operation. Patterson denies that he has seen the girl for three months past.

 – Santa Rosa Republican, October 13, 1911

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OUR PECULIAR WAYS DIED HARD

Jeff Elliott Leave a comment

By 1911 the new, modern century had fully arrived in Santa Rosa, but apparently not everyone had received the memo.

Continuing the theme of the past few articles, in 1911 Santa Rosa was catching up to Bay Area cities; downtown was looking more cosmopolitan with its paved streets, electric trolley and several movie theaters. Here’s another example: The new modernity was also reflected in the kinds of ads that began to appear, and that was presumably because shoppers reflected Santa Rosa’s expanding middle-class.

Compare the men’s fashion ads at right; the lower one appeared in 1909 and the top ad was from 1911, both from the Press Democrat. The 1909 ad emphasizes price (twice!) and the man in the drawing seems as average looking as possible – not to mention appearing uncomfortable, maybe even itchy in his ill-fitting wool suit. In the 1911 hat ad the price isn’t mentioned at all, featuring instead a man with chiseled good looks smoking a cigarette (the first appearance of smoking in any PD ad). The emphasis on value was a hallmark of ads aimed at farmers or working-class guys who only bought Sunday suits; the stylish hat ads were aimed at men who wanted to look suave around town.

The local newspapers were also becoming overall more urbane; better graphics, more cartoons and improved reproduction of photographs made both the Santa Rosa Republican and Press Democrat look more on par with a daily paper from Berkeley than one from a country town such as Ukiah, where stores were still pushing discount duds. But that modern look to the papers makes it all the more jarring when you stumble today over a story that’s a throwback to Santa Rosa’s wilder and woolier (and sometimes weirder) times. Several examples from 1911 are transcribed below.

Sometimes it’s not that the events are remarkably peculiar – people always do damned peculiar things every day – it’s just that these were odd bits to get written up in the newspaper. Take the story about Mrs. Patterson, a “prominent resident of Rincon Valley.” One midsummer morning she reached for her jar of epsom salts – a popular choice as a laxative in the day – but instead grabbed her bottle of sugar of lead (lead acetate), then used to color hair but also a mild poison.

Who on earth would keep a bottle of poison next to their similar-looking health remedies? Surprisingly, it must not have been that unusual back then because a year before the town’s veterinarian swallowed a “digestive tablet” after dinner, then realized in horror it was actually a mercury bichloride pill, “enough to kill several persons.” Reaching into our great-grandparents’ medicine cabinet was like playing russian roulette. (For those curious about “sugar of lead:” Yes, it was historically used like sugar and the Romans consumed great quantities of it in sweetened wine – read this thorough discussion.)

Also hard to comprehend today: Why carpenter Clayton Shockley and attorney Peter Schlotterback got into it on Fourth street over the ownership of a handsaw. It seemed Schlotterback accused the workman of stealing it from him a couple of years earlier, and before you knew it, the carpenter was beating the attorney in the head with his hammer and the Schlotterback was trying to saw off a portion of Shockley’s noggin. Both ended up bloody from the fracas. Okay, maybe it was a really, really nice handsaw, but honestly: Two middle-aged men in 1911 trying to kill each other over a handsaw? It was as nuts as the story a few years earlier where two men were fighting in court over ownership of “a valuable varmint dog” – which had actually died.

Then there’s the odd 1911 story of Otto Ulrich, a sausage maker who proved remarkably flammable. It seems he was going about his sausage making when he happened to catch fire, due mainly to his apron and clothing being so soaked in grease that he was something of a human candlewick. He ran to a large tub of water but was unable to get in, due to “the mammoth boots which he wore in the sausage making room” (go ahead and Google for “sausage boots” – you know you want to). His co-workers saved his life by turning a hose on him but his head was burned, along with all of his hair.

It’s also interesting to note the disgusting details of that story only appeared in the Republican, which was Santa Rosa’s afternoon newspaper; it was probably wise for the morning Press Democrat to go easy – many PD subscribers were probably having breakfast as they read their paper, and would not be happy to contemplate how much of that smoky flavor in their eggs and sausage might be essence of Otto.

This wasn’t as gruesome as some industrial accidents reported in years before, but given this incident occurred five years after publication of Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle” and the wide public outcry over horrific working conditions in the meatpacking industry, it’s appalling that nothing apparently had changed since the Nineteenth Century over at the Noonan Meat Company, Santa Rosa’s slaughterhouse. Let’s hope a clipping of that article turned up on a desk at the state health department.

Another item right out of the previous century: A guy on Fifth street began shooting at a Chinese man he suspected of wrongdoing, then formed a mob to hunt him down in Santa Rosa’s two-block Chinatown.

Frank Munday claimed the man was prowling around his house and thought the man intended to kidnap his three year-old daughter. Munday’s fears were pulled straight from the pages of lurid dime novels and sensationalist yellow journalism stories; 1911 was near the peak of the national white slavery mania, and a common plot described Chinese men snatching young women off the streets to smuggle them to Asian brothels. Munday took a sniper’s position overlooking the front of his house and later told a reporter he began shooting when he saw the prowler trying to open a window. As this was all happening early Sunday evening as church services were getting out he attracted much attention with his rifle fire. At no point were the police notified, according to the Press Democrat story.

Finally, the PD made its own contribution to the list of 1911 oddities with a new warning to naughty children. Not seen in the paper since 1908, these items once appeared often – a sample can be found here, and is best read imagining the voice of Simpsons’ character Mr. Burns – always warning that a dire fate awaited little rapscallions who trampled flowers or dropped slippery orange and banana peels on the sidewalk. (Yet curiously, when a former Santa Rosan actually did die in 1909 from slipping on a banana peel in San Francisco, the PD reported it with a couple of terse paragraphs and no sermonizing. Go figure.)

In that new item, PD editor Ernest Finley railed against misbehaving whipper-snappers with slingshots, and the big cudgel this time was being arrested by a game warden for shooting at federally-protected songbirds. “So if the fathers and mothers of exuberant young hopefuls wish to avoid trouble of having to go down and bail the young hopefuls out some of these fine mornings, they would better see to it that their young hopefuls carry no sling shots, and that they let the birds alone.” The boys were also shooting at people, and the paper cautioned “there is danger of grave injury if boys are allowed to possess these things and use them.” Hey, kid, here’s a buck if you can knock the cigarette out of the mouth of the guy with the snappy hat.

(Follow these links to articles on similar 1910 peculiarities and odd crimes.)

PROTESTS MADE AGAINST SLINGSHOT NUISANCE

Complaints are frequent that Santa Rosa boys are amusing themselves and tormenting other people with that devil’s device known as the slingshot, an artillery-like contraption made of a forked stick and two rubber bands. Several persons have been struck by missels [sic] from these weapons, and the results have been painful. And always there is danger of grave injury if boys are allowed to possess these things and use them. Their possession is forbidden by city ordinance, and it is threatened that the ordinance will be invoked against some of the youthful offenders if the offense continue.

Also it is said that the boys with slingshots are making targets of the birds in the old college park. That constitutes another offense against the law, for many of these birds are songbirds of the species that the law protects. So if the fathers and mothers of exuberant young hopefuls wish to avoid trouble of having to go down and bail the young hopefuls out some of these fine mornings, they would better see to it that their young hopefuls carry no sling shots, and that they let the birds alone.

– Press Democrat, March 11, 1911
WOMAN TOOK SUGAR OF LEAD BY MISTAKE

Mrs. Patterson, a prominent resident of Rincon Valley, made a mistake Friday morning in taking a dose of medicine, and swallowed a quantity of sugar of lead instead of Epsom salts. The woman noticed her mistake at once and a hurried call was made for Dr. Jackson Temple by phone. Dr. Temple made a rapid trip to the Patterson residence in his automobile and soon had the woman out of danger. Mrs. Patterson is still quite ill from the effects of her mistake, but will recover.

– Santa Rosa Republican, July 29, 1911

SAUSAGE MAKER BADLY BURNED
Clothes Catch Fire When in Smoke House

Otto Ulrich, sausage maker at the Noonan Meat Company, was severely burned about the left arm and had the hair singed from his head on Thursday morning.

The man went into the smoke house to attend to some of his duties there, and his apron and other clothing caught fire. He ran from the smoke house to a large tub of water and began splashing water on himself to quench the flames.

Not succeeding as well as he had expected, he shouted for help and fellow employees turned the hose on him and extinguished the flames. Just how the blaze was communicated to the clothing of the man is not known.

Ulrich was unable to get into the tub of water because of the mammoth boots which he wore in the sausage making room. After the fire was extinguished the man was taken to Dr. J. W. Jesse’s office to have his burns dressed and the pain relieved. His overalls were burned from his body and his head was burned, the hair being consumed rapidly. The grease which had collected on the clothing worn by the man made them inflammable.

– Santa Rosa Republican, September 14, 1911
BLOOD FLOWS IN LIVELY COMBAT
P. L. Schlotterback and C. P. Shockley Mix Things With a Hammer and Saw as Weapons

A hammer and a saw, with a man behind each, clashed in a bloody combat in the new Hahman building on Fourth street on Thursday afternoon, and for the time being there was considerable excitement. Both men came out of the combat with real wounds, bleeding wounds, too, which had to be patched up by physicians. The men in the mixup with the impromptu implements, usually devoted to placid forms of labor, were attorney Peter L. Schlotterback and C. P. Shockley, the latter a well known carpenter employed on the building.

 Schlotterback strolled into the building Thursday afternoon and seeing a number of carpenter’s saws picked up one, so the story goes, and inquired the name of the man who was using the particular saw he had in his hand, saying that it belonged to him. Shockley stepped up on hearing claim being laid to his saw, and demanded to know whether the attorney meant that he had stolen the saw, adding that it was his saw and that he could give the name of the man from whom he purchased it. He also stated that he could buy saws and was not bound to take tools that did not belong to him, and had not done so.

 Some angry words were exchanged between the two and a suggestion from Schlotterback that probably Shockley had not come honestly by the saw was resented by the carpenter, who smote his accuser over the head with a blow from a hammer handle. Quick as a flash Schlotterback struck the carpenter over the head with the saw, following it up, so other workmen present say, with other blows. Shockley turned to run and the lawyer pursued him and when Shockley stumbled and fell another blow with the saw was aimed at him. Then the combat ended.

 Blood was streaming from the wounds on Shockley’s head and from the wound on Schlotterback’s head by this time. Officer Ramsay came and Schlotterback walked away with him toward the police station. No complaint was filed, however.

 Shockley was taken to the office of Dr. G. W. Mallory and the blood was washed from his wounds. One cut on the top of his head required four stitches to close. Another cut on the back of his head required a like number of stitches. Another deep cut was made on the carpenter’s arm.

 In the meantime Schlotterback had sought the assistance of Dr. J. W. Jesse to have his wounds treated. Dr. Jesse found he had sustained a big contused wound on top of the head, evidently caused by the hammer handle with which Shockley admits he first struck Schlotterback. He also received a nasty gash in the hollow of the hand.

 Both men had the fronts of their shirts covered with blood, evidence that something had been doing.

 Shockley was employed by Schlotterback in making some repairs upon a house about two years ago, and then a saw was missed. While Schlotterback had his suspicions aroused, he says it was not until Thursday afternoon that he discovered the saw which he says is his. On the other hand, Carpenter Shockley says the saw is his, and not Schlotterback’s, and that he bought it from a man whose name he can furnish. And there you are. There is no mistaking the fact that for a few seconds there was a lively fracas over the disputed ownership.

It was not known Thursday night whether there would be any legal proceedings growing out of the dispute. After the wounds had been dressed Schlotterback inquired at the building for the saw and was told it was being detained at the police station. When Shockley was being led away to Dr. Mallory’s office his parting injunction to his fellows was, “Don’t let Schlotterback get that saw. It’s mine, and not his.”

– Press Democrat, November 3, 1911

HE TAKES SHOTS AT CHINESE PROWLER
Frank Munday Believes Chinaman Was Bent on Kidnapping His Little Daughter

Frank Munday , who resides on Fifth street, near E, took several shots with a rifle at a Chinaman who had been prowling about his residence for several hours Sunday night. He opened fire when he detected the Celestial on the porch endeavoring to open a window.

Neither of the bullets took effect in the Mongolian’s anatomy and he fled like a scared wolf to the inmost researches [sic] of Chinatown, and despite a [illegible microfilm: there was a search aided by Munday].

At the time of the rifle fusilade [sic] great excitement prevailed as many people were on their way to the different churches. The Chinaman had followed Mrs. Munday and her little three-year-old daughter when they were returning from a walk on Sunday afternoon. From then on until dusk he hovered about the Fifth street residence and was noticed by a number of the neighbors of the Mundays. The object of his attention seemed to be the little girl, and in the absence of any other reason for his presence and an attempt to enter the house, Munday believes the Chinaman was bent on kidnapping the child.

When he returned home shortly after seven o’clock on Sunday night Munday found his wife considerably alarmed over the Chinaman’s actions, and taking his rifle he stationed himself at a point of vantage and when he discovered the uninvited visitor making for the window he opened fire.

– Press Democrat, April 25, 1911

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MR. CONTEST EDITOR IS DISAPPOINTED IN YOU

Jeff Elliott Leave a comment

Santa Rosa probably looked like it was evacuated that spring. From houses with drawn curtains could be heard the ringing of unanswered telephones, I imagine, and screen doors were likely jammed with calling cards. Or maybe it looked like the town was under quarantine; those who couldn’t avoid going downtown to shop or work no doubt hurried as fast as possible, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Was there an outbreak of plague? A great natural disaster? A bank collapse? Nope; it was the Press Democrat’s Kline Kar Kontest of 1911.

Oh, it started off innocently enough, all sunshine and roses.  It was just the “Press Democrat Popular Ladies’ Voting Contest” to build up newspaper circulation. Someone would win a nice prize. What could possibly be wrong with that?

Everything about the contest was unusual, starting with the prize. The lucky winner would take home a “Kline Kar” which was no cheap jalopy; it was a handmade, high-end roadster that was arguably the finest automobile sold in America at the time. Why, it was such a terrific car that young Hilliard Comstock purchased one and drove it back to Santa Rosa from Sausalito in high gear without destroying the engine (he apparently did not know how to use a gearshift) – an otherwise minor news story the PD featured on the front page because the contest had just launched.

Also quite unusual was that the contest was only open to “any woman (married or single) residing in Sonoma County.” In those days there were very few women drivers, much less women car owners; the only exception ever mentioned in the PD was the amazing Dorothy Farmer (think Farmer’s Lane) who bought a Packard in Los Angeles three years earlier and drove it all the way home on the rutty wagon trails that passed for roads. But this was also 1911, which was the year of the campaign for women’s suffrage in California and making the contest women-only could have been a nod towards bringing a bit more equitable balance to the roadways. Cynics might also wonder if eliminating men from the contest was a sexist gambit expecting the guys would help the gals “cheat.”

And make no mistake, it was certain to be a hard-fought contest. Newspapers were far more expensive than today, compared to the median household income in Santa Rosa. A subscription cost 50¢ a month, no discount for longer signups – that’s over twice the present relative cost to have the Press Democrat land on your doorstep every morning. Thus if Miss Newton convinced Uncle Charlie, a typical wage-earner, to subscribe to the PD for five years, he would be sending in nearly three weeks pay. Or once again, in modern terms: She was asking someone to write the Press Democrat a check for over $3,300 – quite the pricey commitment.

The contest was also set up to disguise the actual number of subscriptions and renewals. Signing up a new subscriber for three months gained you 500 votes; a five year signup was good for 25,000. Subscription renewals were good for half as many. There were bonus votes for enrolling in the contest early and there were promotions that awarded extra votes for longer subscriptions.

The sixty day contest began March 22 and the paper urged women to move fast: “Enlist the aid of your friends and neighbors in securing subscriptions and coupons for you,” read the instructions in the first ad, shown at right. “Keep ‘Central’ busy; use your telephone. Let everyone know that you are a candidate before they promise their help to someone else.”

Two weeks later, the newspaper turned up the heat; for the next seven days, subscriptions for a year or longer would be triple value – a five year commitment was now worth 75,000 votes. “No Greater Offer, Nor as Good an Offer as This Will be Given Again, Nor Will This Offer be Repeated,” the PD headline clamored. It was also when we were introduced to Mr. Contest Editor.

Over the next six weeks he cheered, encouraged, cajoled and bullied contestants into working harder. He was never named; we can’t even be sure he was a “he” although he sometimes referred to himself with male pronouns. From his snappy style it is apparent he was not a regular Press Democrat staffer. He was probably youngish, aspired to write the Great American Novel (or certain he already had) and believed he was 110 percent smarter than thou. I can picture him with his feet up on a desk, a straw boater tipped back on his head and chewing a stick of Juicy Fruit as he sarcastically read his latest contest advice to chortling newsboys.

His early columns sounded earnest and friendly: “The contest editor does not say what will be doing in votes after April 12, but this increase of votes will be changed and it will be surprisingly LOWER than it is now. Vote values will decrease from NOW on, they will never be higher; this the Press Democrat promises you…There are more than six weeks left until the close, and you could go over this whole county a dozen times before then.”

Nearly every day the Press Democrat printed portraits of the leaders along with their totals in the “Roll of Honor.” Mrs. Crone is out front on Wednesday; the next day it’s Miss Liggett of Third Street. The daily article about the contest sometimes had a sentence or two about each of them. Mrs. E. Crone: “If grit counts for anything, look out.” Miss Nellie Hansen of Sebastopol “bids fair to give her friendly opponents a merry chase.” Miss Doris Sullivan of Graton “is determined to represent that little town good and strong.” Mr. Contest Editor was proud of them all.

But after fifteen days, only four contestants had reached the 75,000 vote mark. It looked like there were no generous Uncle Charlies writing big checks to favorite nieces.

With the contest almost halfway around the track, it’s reasonable that Press Democrat editor Ernest Finley probably worried that it was starting to look like a flop, and the paper could even lose money on the promotion. And that was when the tone turned less cheery. The first hint of exasperation appeared: “It takes absolutely no experience to get subscriptions to the Press Democrat. It’s a staple article…so many people want the paper that they cannot be reached by an agent, and subscriptions by the hundreds are waiting all over the county for candidates to simply come and get them for the asking.” Goodbye peppy cheerleader, hello, angry sales manager. Let’s show some hustle out there, people!

The paper also launched new promotions. Despite the promise vote values will “never be higher” than the first promo, a limited offer was announced: For a few days, new bonuses would be awarded for subscriptions that could be bundled together into multiples of five years and the offer was retroactive to the previous Thursday (don’t even try to figure this out). Again Mr. Contest Editor promised: “Subscriptions will never be worth as many votes again.” Except three days after that promotion ended, there was another “big offer” increasing the base vote values for all subscriptions.

Obviously, there was some grumbling about these one-time-only deals that weren’t. Mister Contest Editor wanted it known this hurt his feelings:

You know that the Contest Editor has kept his promise. You know that the Contest Editor will continue to keep his promises, and you know that the Press Democrat has never broken faith with any of its candidates both in the past and present. Heed the word and promises of the Contest Editor. He is your only counselor. If the Press Democrat had ever broken faith with any of its candidates it never would have inaugurated this contest.

Aside from developing headaches and whiplash trying to follow the latest voting offers, the thirty women who were the most serious contenders must have been experiencing something like battle fatigue. Winning a deLuxe auto sounded like fun and the contest was fun at the start but after several weeks you’ve signed up everyone you know and everyone your friends know and now you dread getting up in the morning to spend another awful day of bothering people who don’t want to be bothered and already had been bothered by several of your competitors. It would also be natural if they felt despair; after two months of work, 29 of them would come away with…nothing. There was no second or third prize, no sales commission, no tote bag. Not even a complementary newspaper subscription.

The later columns by the Contest Editor address the women in the competition directly, and are more than a little creepy as he resorted to using shame as a motivation.

 You are letting yourself down:

Good merry contestants, here’s another chance. If in the past few days you have been dissatisfied with the efforts you have been making; if you think you have not done right by yourself and the ones who have stood by you for the past five weeks, here is an opportunity to make restitution and repent, an opportunity within a few days time to eclipse the vote of your closest rival, an opportunity to rid yourself of the anxiety of having enough votes to be assured of success. It is given as an opportunity to allow those a fair chance who were visited with illness last week. Several of the candidates, or their families, were under the weather.

Your friends are letting you down:

Now, candidates all–are you going to keep up this fierce struggle for all times until the end. Why don’t some one of you be the exceptional one. Do as the Contest Editor has been advising you to do for weeks. Get your friends in tow. Hand each and every one of them a receipt book and pledge them by their friendship to you to see that they all get a few subscriptions each. You have been trying it single handed for eight weeks. There is something the matter.

You are letting the Contest Editor down:

If there is any good reason why you can’t stay at the top, the Contest Editor would like to hear it. the Contest Editor would like to have a personal talk every day with every candidate in the race. That’s why he is writing to you every day through the Press Democrat. There are perhaps many candidates who will read these paragraphs, and that is all. Had the Contest Editor  ever advised you in error you would have a good excuse not to consider every word that is written every day.

The Contest Editor is disappointed and disgusted by you:

Ask yourself this question: Have you heeded the advice of the Contest Editor  from the beginning of this contest? In other words, have you kept busy, and will you keep busier than ever during the last three days of this contest? Of course, if you are satisfied with what you have and feel that you have all the votes you need, there is no reason in the world why you should exert yourself another moment.

Mr. Contest Editor was probably wise not to use his real name, as by that time there probably were thirty husbands or boyfriends who would have liked to give him a good poke in the snoot.

But finally it was over, and the winner was to be announced at 10PM on Saturday evening, May 20. The front page story the next morning – decidedly not written by Mr. Contest Editor – described what happened:

…The mass of people that the contest editor predicted would witness the closing of the contest commenced to gather at 9:30 last evening and from that time on until 10 o’clock a steady stream of people worked their way into the Press Democrat office.

The loyal candidates with their representatives were all present, and the great throng became a guessing machine as to who would win. Patiently they waited until the town clock tolled 10 o’clock. The doors were promptly locked and all the candidates that were inside were given an opportunity to cast their last ballots…

…The candidates grouped themselves together while the count of votes were going on, chatted good naturedly and joked regarding their chances. They went into the race knowing that but one of them could win and were ready to abide by the decision of the ballots…

…The judges then pronounced the count correct and the throng held themselves spellbound for the name of the winner.

Mayor Edwards then called off the totals and pronounced Mrs. Ed Crone of Santa Rosa the winner of the big five-passenger Kline Touring Kar.

A cheer went up from the crowd and Mrs. Crone and all that could pile in to it went out of the Press Democrat doors with a jubilant “Honk-Honk.”

Boy, what a surprise! In the last published “Roll of Honor,” Mrs. Crone was back in fifth place, with 739,260 votes – and now she was the big winner with 3,143,660. Wait – huh? She had concealed millions of votes until the last minute? Apparently so, and likewise four other finalists had kept their cards close, ending with million-plus totals.

If Gentle Reader thinks there’s something fishy about those astronomical numbers, you have company. My first question is how these mountains of subscriptions were credited; did the judges apply whatever screwy vote multiplier happened to be in effect at the time of the subscription order? Could the judges have physically counted that many new paper ballots on a late Saturday night? And what was to prevent the contestants from backdating all her “reserve subscriptions” to the earliest days of the contest, when votes had the highest values? If I were someone like Lillian Norris – whose final count was only a realistic 13,000 votes above her last Roll of Honor tally – I’d have called foul.

Still, there was nothing suspicious about identity of the winner: Mary J. Crone was the 36 year-old wife of Edwin Crone, the manager of Santa Rosa’s three nickelodeon and vaudeville theaters. It’s doubtful anyone else in Sonoma County came into contact with so many people on a regular basis. (Your OBL Believe-it-or-not angle: Her brother-in-law, Raymond, later worked in Hollywood as the production manager for Orson Welles, Fred Astaire and others. Ed and Mary stayed around and ended up as chicken farmers south of town).

Although the event is now completely lost in history’s dust, the Kline Kar Kontest left a sizable impact crater. In its front page article on the results, the PD crowed, “without the slightest doubt the circulation of the Press Democrat is now the largest in any city North of the Bay Counties, and has a great deal more than double the circulation of any paper in Sonoma County.” And the greater the circulation, the more they could charge for ads, so the promotion went far to entrench the PD as the voice of “Imperial Sonoma.”

Thanks in great measure to the goadings of Mr. Contest Editor, the acrimonious contest no doubt left scars in the community, destroying friendships and straining family ties; I imagine it became one of those regrettable events one hopes relatives won’t bring up at reunions. But if you climbed into a time machine and went back to the 1920s or 1930s and asked Santa Rosans what they remembered about 1911, chances are they wouldn’t remember the suffrage vote (memory of it would have been eclipsed by passage of the 19th amendment) or Fred Wiseman’s flight from Petaluma to Santa Rosa (it wasn’t recognized as the historic first airmail delivery until much later). But they likely remembered it was the spring of the damn car contest, when the doorbell and telephone rang so often it left everyone a bit twitchy.

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