HAUNTING TALES (Summer of 1925)

More about Santa Rosa in the summer of 1925. See INTRO for overview and index.

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  In the pages of old newspapers there are stories you will not expect, nor easily forget. Some stray into Believe-it-or-Not! territory; a 30 year-old laborer who died of drinking too much cold water (July 21 1922) or the Cotati couple that tied up a dinner guest with wire after he began acting crazy, yet didn’t take him to the police until the next day (Nov. 18, 1907 – LINK). The story found below isn’t as dramatic as those, but I found it an intriguing glimpse of attitudes here a century ago. Plus, the writing’s better than what usually appeared in the Press Democrat.

The story involved hoboes and Santa Rosa’s surprising tolerance for them in that era – a subject explored earlier in a piece about the situation in 1931. Like then, in July 1925 they mostly hung out at Depot Park in Railroad Square during the day rather than loafing around their hobo jungles. The reporter called them the “Vulture” gang for their practice of getting town visitors pass-out drunk and then robbing them.

They preyed upon unsophisticated farmworkers who were easy to spot: “As soon as they come to Santa Rosa, they equip themselves with new blue shirts and overalls, and then go out to see the sights,” the PD article said. The hoboes would befriend the trusting soul – in this case, a guy here from Inverness – and get him ripped on denatured alcohol, Sterno or the like. A policeman saw what was going on and chased the hobos away, but was unable to convince the fellow that his new friends were up to no good.

The story reads like a particularly unpleasant Aesop’s Fable. Why did the Santa Rosa policeman not arrest the hoboes? The article is clear their scam was well known and here they were, caught in the act. Mr. Inverness believed the cop’s warning yet returned to the company of the men he knew intended to rob him. Why would anyone do that?

NEXT: CLASSIFIEDS
“VULTURE” GANG WORKS HERE; LONELY WORKERS FLEECED OF MONEY – Santa Rosa has its Vultures, no less than Paris has its Apaches or Chicago and New York their gunmen gangs. They work without physical violence, and their victims are so ashamed of their fleecing that the gang seldom figures in police reports. Yet they operate continually, “shaking down” men who come in from the ranches and woods with money in their pockets, after months of toiling and saving.

Police are aided in looking to the safety of the men who usually fall victims to the Vultures by their almost uniform habit of purchasing new clothing before they start out to see the city. As soon as they come to Santa Rosa, they equip themselves with new blue shirts and overalls, and then go out to see the sights.

Eventually their wanderings bring them somewhere in the vicinity of the railroad tracks, where the Vultures lay in wait. These are of the common hobo breed, who court the acquaintance of the wearers of new blue shirts. Conversation leads to companionship, companionship to drinks of illicit liquor; bad whisky, sour wine or even denatured alcohol, flavored with extract of peppermint or other essence to kill the sickening taste.

When the liquor does its work and the victim falls asleep, Vultures “lift his roll” and disappear. The victim awakens, dazed and sick; recovers, finds his money gone and returns to the hills to work and save again.

The operations of these false friends are known to police, and whenever they can the officers prevent the fleecing.

Patrolman Emil Biavaschi the other day saved a ranch hand the loss of $100 by his watchfulness as he saw a pair of hoboes gliding up to a man in a new blue shirt and overalls in the railroad park on Wilson street. Biavaschi watched while the Vultures opened a conversation with their intended victim, but when the worker began to doze the officer thought it time to act.

The vagrants ran as Biavaschi approached. The ranch hand, at first resisting the kind offices of the patrolman, finally softened and realized his position. He had in his pocket a $160 roll of greenbacks; on the advice of the officer he placed $100 of it in the care of a clerk at a lower Fourth street hotel. Then he went back to the “danger zone.”

Biavaschi saw the man, a worker from Inverness, the next day. The $60 he had retained was gone, and. with shamed face, he was taking the remaining $100 and returning to his work. (July 1)

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TERRIFIC GUY, TERRIBLE MARSHAL (CHARLIE HOLMES II)

Everyone in Santa Rosa knew him; Charlie Holmes had lived here since he was a small boy, and it’s safe to say he was the most popular guy in town at the turn of the century. When his first term as City Marshal expired in 1900 he ran for reelection, and at the local Democratic Party convention he was given their support by unanimous vote.

He was in great demand as a toastmaster and speaker at banquets and such because he had a gift for telling funny stories and reciting comic verse. Following him in the PD is like taking a Grand Tour through the halls of fraternal social clubs, all pungent with the odor of 5¢ cigars. Not only did he entertain at events held by well-known groups such as the Elks, Druids and Native Sons, but he did humorous recitations at a Pumpkin Pie Social for the Woodmen of the World and a smoker hosted by the Knights of the Maccabees. He surely held the town record for the person treated to the most free meals.

The chummy, good ol’ boy tenor of those gatherings was quite different than the sides of Santa Rosa he saw as City Marshal (which was the same as being Chief of Police – see part I).

Santa Rosa police department, c. 1901. Clockwise from upper left: Constables Don McIntosh, Ike Lindley, John M. Boyes, Marshall Charles Holmes, Herman Hankel. Image source: Chester Crist collection, "Santa Rosa A Nineteenth Century Town" by Gaye LeBaron et. al. 1985
Santa Rosa police department, c. 1901. Clockwise from upper left: Constables Don McIntosh, Ike Lindley, John M. Boyes, Marshall Charles Holmes, Herman Hankel. Image source: Chester Crist collection, “Santa Rosa A Nineteenth Century Town” by Gaye LeBaron et. al. 1985

Holmes and his four-man police force were busy, making 225 arrests in the first three months of 1900 alone. That seems like a lot considering the population was smaller than Cotati has today but little of it was serious law-breaking, at least if you went by what appeared in the newspapers. Offenders riding a bike on the sidewalk were subject to arrest; so were curfew violators (anyone 18 or younger out after 8:30PM “without any lawful business”). Boys with air guns were shooting at chickens. Laundry burglaries were a thing, which presumably was stealing off clotheslines. In 1901 they thought there was a serial laundry thief, but Holmes tracked the culprit down – it was a “big dog” dragging away coats, shoes and rugs to gnaw on. It sometimes seemed Marshal Holmes and Santa Rosa must be down the road a piece from Sheriff Andy and Mayberry.

But my longtime Gentle Reader knows this was not at all the case. In the late 19th-early 20th century Santa Rosa was awash in vice and corruption, being something of the “Sin City” in the Bay Area. There was a large and flourishing redlight district just two blocks from Courthouse Square, while saloons and hotels were openly providing illegal gambling – all of it was encouraged by our city leaders, eager to attract out-of-town visitors. Holmes’ successor as Police Chief later said there was nothing he could do to stop it even if he wanted to: “I am powerless to do anything if the Council will not back me up.” A webinar and overview to articles on this topic can be found in “AN UNMITIGATED NUISANCE.”

Santa Rosa’s biggest dirty little secret didn’t come out until 1905, when a pair of muckrakers briefly took editorial control of the Republican newspaper. Until then both of the town’s papers censored and suppressed almost all news concerning the prostitution and gambling scene – except for an incident that was, in the view of the Press Democrat, indescribably awful.

While the redlight district was centered around the intersection of First and D streets, in 1900 Holmes was pressured to shut down a house on Adams St. The women were told to leave town or face jail, but he found one of them was gravely ill and not receiving any medical care. Officers also discovered an infant buried in the backyard. The PD said the coroner would investigate the cause of death yet nothing more about the case appeared in the paper, as far as I can tell. The short article ended with, “There are circumstances and details in connection with this case which are unfit for publication.”

Only one other bordello was even fined during his years in office, so we can presume Holmes was no more diligent in enforcing laws against vice than other Santa Rosa marshals before and after. Not so his policies on the Chinese. For the first time since the 1886 heyday of the Anti-Chinese League, police began raiding our little Chinatown on Second St. A few weeks after returning from military service he proclaimed a ban on all Chinese gambling including card games and arrested six Chinese men.

Then there was this in 1901: “City Marshal Holmes has commenced a crusade against the opium dens in Chinatown and on Saturday morning personally notified the Chinamen in whose places, three in number, the drug is smoked, that they must not allow white boys or girls to ‘hit the pipe.'” As documented here several times, it’s true some “white boys or girls” were found seeking to get high. (The smoking form of opium was legal in California until 1911 though opium-based “nerve tonics” predominantly used by whites remained for sale.) Chinatown raids became common of the next 10+ years, Police Chiefs sometimes forming a posse of citizens interested in joining in the ransacking of their homes and businesses. It was nothing less than an excuse for terrorizing the Chinese community in hopes of driving them out of town.


SANTA ROSA’S DOGGY DILEMMA

Holmes had non-police duties as City Marshal.1 His least favorite job was being in charge of the dog pound, which was subject to frequent complaint. The pound was next to City Hall and the small public library was on the second floor (the famous Carnegie Library wouldn’t be built until 1904), so “the barking and whining of the dogs floating up into the library room made the patrons nervous and a ‘quiet read’ was anything but quiet.” City Councilmen pressed Holmes to come up with a solution.

There was no easy fix because Santa Rosa was teeming with dogs – at a City Council meeting Holmes estimated there were over 1,000 and at the time the city was tiny, roughly 1.5 sq. miles. Regulation wasn’t working. A dog license was $2/year (over $75 today) and mandatory; any without tags were taken to the pound, where they were put down after two days. I do not want to think about how they would have done that job back then.

Holmes partially solved the problem by moving the pound to somewhere on the First street creek bank. But in 1901 he told the Council there was an urgent need for a place to bury the 400 dogs they were destroying on the average every year. A lengthy discussion ensued, where one of the councilmen promoted a notion the animal’s remains should be cremated in the city trash burner. Another argued the dogs seen around town were so malnourished they would not be consumed by fire without using loads of additional fuel. The city clerk suggested the dogs be embalmed and presumably stored. It won’t be my top priority but once my back-ordered time machine arrives, I swear I will visit the City Council meeting of Jan. 21, 1901 to hear that bizarre debate where our top elected officials pondered whether our dead stray dogs had sufficient meat on the bones.2

Besides being city marshal, poundmaster and a few other things, he also wore the hat of city tax collector – arguably his most important job. People drifted in to his office all year round to make every sort of payment (it was where you got a dog license, even) but in 1901, November 18th was particularly busy because it was the last day to pay city taxes.

The next morning they found the marshal’s safe had been robbed. It was first estimated about $1,000 was taken – close to two year’s pay for most skilled workers at the time.

It was assumed the crime occurred between 5 and 6AM, a gap when no policeman was on duty. There were no suspects although a witness saw a man he didn’t recognize “with his hands in his outside coat pockets” quickly walking away from the direction of City Hall during that pre-dawn hour.

The Press Democrat’s story on the crime was excellent (transcribed below) and surely raised eyebrows – namely, many of the details suggested it might be an inside job.

Some evidence appeared planted. The marshal’s door leading to the lobby was ajar – did the burglar supposedly brazenly walk out the main entrance of city hall? There was no sign of forced entry into the building, but a small window was newly broken from outside. As the PD reporter observed, “…a table thickly covered with dust stands in front of the window…several pieces of glass that lodged on the table when the window was broken still remained there embedded in the dust. No one could have climbed through the window without leaving marks in the dust.” Read the transcript to find other questionable points, such as how the burglar could be confident of breaking into the safe.

Whoever did it was familiar with Holmes’ office, starting with knowing the place was empty between the night patrolmen’s shift and the arrival of the officer on morning duty. It appeared the thief gained access to the main office with the safe via a small, non-public back stairway that led to the holding cells downstairs. He would have had to go through three doors, forcing a simple doorknob lock on one of them. All navigated in the dark. It was also suggested the robber possibly got into that passageway the day before and hid there overnight. The tax robbery was looking more and more like a replay of the Stofen affair from seven years earlier.

In 1894, the county treasury was robbed of $8400. Treasurer Peter N. Stofen was held up as he was opening his office and locked in the vault until his wife found him there hours later. In the investigation that followed, there was growing suspicion Stofen was either an accomplice to the theft or covering up embezzlement. The Grand Jury concluded it could have been either a “real or pretended robbery.” (For more, see “WHO ROBBED THE COUNTY TREASURY?“)

Like treasurer Stofen, tax collector Holmes was required to be bonded because they were held personally liable for any funds found missing during their term in office. The only way out of that obligation was to prove a robbery indeed took place and neither Stofen nor Holmes was able to do that. Holmes had the additional problem of not knowing how much money was stolen. It seems the man who collected all the money due Santa Rosa (including dog licenses! Do not forget the dog licenses!) couldn’t be bothered with doing simple bookkeeping.

It came out that Holmes never officially recorded the money passing through his hands until he got around to it, usually at the end of the month. You visited his office and made a tax (or dog license!) payment and he accepted the money, made a note related to it on the bank deposit slip, then later used that slip to record all the transactions in the “cash book” – which was supposed to be always kept current. Trouble was, there were always a few hours between the time Holmes deposited the day’s receipts at the end of banking day and when the marshal/tax collector closed his office door. Any late afternoon payments were stored overnight in the office safe and it was (supposedly) just those monies which were stolen. No deposit slip, no record of who paid what.


THE THREE (OR MORE) FACES OF CHARLIE HOLMES

Charles H. Holmes Jr. was surely the most talked about person in Santa Rosa 120 years ago, and that wasn’t always a good thing.

OUR OWN TOM SAWYER
TERRIFIC GUY, TERRIBLE MARSHAL
OH, LOATHSOME ME
BOSS SQUEEDUNK

It was left to Charles’ memory to recall who paid what during those hours. The PD reported the next day, “Mr. Holmes and an assistant worked on the books checking up the sheets and by evening he had become practically sure enough to state the robbery would amount to the figure named.” Yeah, I’m confident he remembered everyone who came by on the busiest day of the year.

A week after the robbery, Holmes received an envelope postmarked from San Francisco that contained a few checks the thief had scooped up along with the money in the safe. This was another head-scratcher, like the mystery of how/when the burglar got in City Hall. Why would the robber go to the trouble of returning unredeemable checks instead of destroying them? And for that matter, was there proof they came in the mail, other than Charles’ word? Yet having the checks in hand was a boon for Holmes because he could now eliminate those payments from the missing sum he was still trying to determine.

To hopefully straighten out this mess, the City Council hired expert accountant William H. Pool to do a forensic audit of the accounts from the start of Holmes’ second term on April 1, 1900. The report he made to the council at a special session gave no joy.

The main point in the report was that there was no magic wand to wave and show exactly how much money was in the safe at the time of the robbery. Pool revealed Holmes’ bookkeeping was always funky and at the start of that November – weeks before the theft – about $800 was already missing. Perhaps it was sitting in the safe waiting for Holmes to eventually deposit it; there was no way for the accountant to know. By the end of the year 1901, Pool believed the account was short at least $1,299.16.

The PD interviewed Holmes and his answers only cast more suspicion. He did much hand-waving, insisting his books were only off $34. As to the $800 missing before the robbery, he made a bewildering denial: “…while perhaps technically justified by figures, is not borne out by facts. On the date mentioned, as I remember, I paid a considerable sum over to the city treasurer several hours before the close of business…” So it was the treasurer’s fault he didn’t keep receipts?

Holmes and the Maryland company that held his bond were commanded to pay the nearly $1,300 shortage, which he did under protest. He was gonna prove bad guys robbed his safe and then demand the bond money back, yessir. And he could do it too – after all, he was the top lawman in Santa Rosa.

But not for much longer. The accountant’s report and paying back the money happened in mid-January, 1902. Six weeks later the Democratic Party in Santa Rosa held their convention to determine the candidates they wanted on their ticket. Where Charles had been unanimously chosen for the marshal/tax collector job in 1900, this time he came in fourth.

He went back to being a plasterer, although right after he lost the city job he was briefly manager of the Campi, the most popular restaurant in downtown Santa Rosa. He still was a popular speaker at banquets and marched in every parade. But over the next five years his personal life was marked by turmoil, particularly after he was charged with rape.

NEXT: OH, LOATHSOME ME


1 Holmes was also chairman of the investigation committee of the Associated Charities which distributed clothing to the needy, and was for a time the acting health officer with power to issue death certificates

2 The City Council formed a special committee to handle all dog pound questions and there was discussion of hiring a “Dog Impounder” who would be paid from the dog license fees. It is not clear whether the position was created, but it was a regular council agenda item over the next four months. Part of his duties would have been to bury the dogs

  

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DESERVES A SECOND TERM

Charles H. Holmes, Jr., the Democratic nominee for city marshal, needs no introduction to the people of Santa Rosa. He has lived here ever since he was a boy and has grown up with the town. Two years ago he was elected city marshal, defeating by a good majority a man of acknowledged strength. He has just finished one good term, and deserves a second, and his many friends feel confident that this is a recognition and a courtesy which will not be denied him.

In the discharge of his duties Mr. Holmes has been faithful and efficient and has demonstrated the fact that the interests of the department will be safe in his hands. He has served the city well. A few months after his election two years ago war with Spain broke out and in conformity with the plans of the war department the Fifth regiment, N. G. C., composed of companies located in different parts of the state, was ordered to mobilize at the Presidio preparatory to being sent to the front. As First Lieutenant of Company E of this city Mr. Holmes was in duty bound to answer to the call, and did so. With almost his entire company he enlisted in the Eighth California volunteers and became a member of the regular army.

Through the speedy and unexpected termination of the war the services of the Eighth regiment were not required and after remaining under orders for several months the regiment disbanded, and Mr. Holmes returned to his home in this city and to the discharge of his duties as marshal, which during his absence he had left in good hands. The people of Santa Rosa have not forgotten the scenes attendant either upon the departure or the arrival home of Company E, and the facts here narrated are familiar to all our citizens. During his occupancy of his office Mr. Holmes has never proved recreant to a trust and his record ever since the time he came here as a boy has been a creditable one. He has shown himself to be a good citizen both in and out of office, as well as a good official while in office, and ho deserves a second term in the position he now holds. And unless the Press Democrat is very much mistaken in the people of Santa Rosa that is what he will get.

– Press Democrat, March 17 1900

 

BROKE UP THE NEST
City Police Department Makes Several Arrests
Coroner Pierce Will Inquire Today Into The Cause of an Infant’s Death

City Marshal Holmes and the police have broken up a disreputable house on Adams street in this city. As a result of the disturbance of the nest two or three women whose characters are sadly tainted have been arrested and will be given a chance to leave town for good, under penalty of imprisonment for failure to do so. A youth was given a month’s imprisonment yesterday for complicity in the matter and it is believed now that the atmosphere will be purer in that vicinity.

Yesterday Coroner Pierce was communicated with and today will inquire into the circumstances which caused the death of an infant, whose body was unearthed in the back yard of the house by officers. From Marshal Holmes a Press Democrat representative learned that many complaints have been made about the conduct of the inmates of the house and that he had sufficient evidence to warrant him in adopting the course he took. When the police visited the house they found a woman there, lying dangerously ill, not having the care of a physician or even a nurse.
There are circumstances and details in connection with this case which are unfit for publication.

– Press Democrat, October 24 1900

 

CITY’S SAFE ROBBED
Bold Burglary at the City Hall
CARRIED OFF $1,000
Tax Money Stolen During The Early Morning Hours
Unwelcome Visitors at the Office Of City Marshal and Tax Collector Charles H. Holmes Jr.

Early Tuesday morning, presumably between the hours of 5 and 6 o’clock, the safe in the office of City Marshal and Tax Collector Charles H. Holmes Jr. in the city hall was robbed of a large sum of money, estimated at $1,000, the proceeds of tax collections received the previous day after banking hours.

The robbery was discovered by Mrs. Jane Samuels, the city hall janitoress, who arrived as usual to begin her duties about 6 o’clock. When she arrived upon the scene Mrs. Samuels noticed that the front door of the marshal’s office was ajar. At first she gave little heed to the fact, presuming that Officer Don McIntosh, who goes on duty at that hour, had arrived before her. Subsequently she saw that the safe door was also open, and suspecting that something was wrong at once summoned Officer McIntosh and informed him of her discoveries. An investigation revealed the fact that entrance to the office had been gained by forcing the small door opening from the passageway that leads down outside the marshal’s office to the cell room in the rear. The wall here is a thin board affair and by springing the partition in slightly the door can easily be forced. This door was found open, with the tongue of the lock protruding. The door in question does not lead directly into the marshal’s office, but opens into a closet, which in turn opens into a small room directly in the rear of the office. Another door, which was not locked, opens from this room directly into the main office in which the safe is located.

A small window looking from the back room above referred to into the rear hallway was broken near the catch, but while the burglar or burglars may at first have intended gaining an entrance through the window, if such was the case the plan was apparently abandoned. A table thickly covered with dust stands in front of the window and no evidence of its having been climbed over could be noted. Several pieces of glass that lodged on the table when the window was broken still remained there embedded in the dust. No one could have climbed through the window without leaving marks in the dust on the table or without knocking at least some of the pieces of glass onto the floor.

The marshal’s office is also used as police headquarters. When, after coming in from their night’s vigil and making the usual change of clothing. Officers Hankel, Boyes and Lindley left the place, a few minutes before 5 o’clock, everything was in the usual order. An old cripple who had been given a bed in one of the cells in the rear of the city hall says that he heard the sound of breaking glass along about morning, but his physical and mental condition is such that nothing like a concise statement can be obtained from him.

The safe from which the money was stolen is an antiquated affair, and was purchased by the city from Lee Bros. & Co. a year or two ago. It at one time belonged to G. N. Savage, a former auctioneer and real estate man of this city, and went through the fire that something like twenty years ago destroyed the block of wooden buildings that at that time extended from where Dignan’s drug store now is up to the rear of the old hall of records on Fourth street. It was originally a key safe, but after the fire was fitted out with a combination lock, a cheap contrivance long since out of date.

The money was in gold, silver and bank checks, postal or express orders, and had all been placed in a steel compartment or drawer in the bottom of the safe. This drawer fastens with an ordinary lock and key such as is used in bureaus or tables of ancient pattern. Marshal Holmes states that as far as he knows he holds the only key to the drawer, but this is a fact of little importance as the drawer could probably be opened with a button-hook or an ordinary wire.

So far no clue has been discovered pointing to the perpetrators of the deed, but several suspicious circumstances are being investigated. While on his way to work about half past 5, and while passing down Fourth street towards Mendocino, Al Reed, who is employed at Koenig’s stable, says he saw a man wearing a long coat and with his hands in his outside coat pockets, walking hurriedly out diagonally across Hinton avenue from the direction of the city hall toward the northeast entrance to the courthouse grounds. In the semi-darkness, Mr. Reed says, he at first took the stranger to be one of the officers, but such was not the case and he paid no further attention to him.

Charles Staley, a carpenter of this city, passed the city hall in company with his brother on his way to work shortly before 7 o’clock. Just at the entrance to the passageway leading from the street to the cell room in the rear he noticed a queer-looking object. Picking it up he discovered that it was a false beard and sidewhiskers. He carried it with him, examining it and laughing about the matter with his brother, until he had passed around the corner of the hall of records, onto Third street, when he tossed it up onto a window ledge of the latter building. Later Edward Beatty, coming down town from the opposite direction, saw it and picking it up brought it on down town with him. It is presumed that the false beard may have been part of the disguise used by the burglar.

About $400 of the money stolen was in the form of checks and current exchange. As none of the paper had been endorsed, and as its payment has been stopped, the actual loss will probably be about $600. Owing to the system of book-keeping employed in the marshal’s office the exact sum stolen could not be ascertained yesterday. The books are not balanced each day during tax-collecting time, but once a month. Monday was the last day allowed by law for the collection of city taxes and several thousand dollars was paid in. $3,748 was deposited in the Santa Rosa Bank Monday afternoon shortly after 3 o’clock. The usual list of belated taxpayers kept the collector busy yesterday, and the work of figuring out the exact amount missing was not completed last night. The task will be completed today, however.

Marshal Holmes states that when he left the office Monday evening about 10 o’clock everything was all right, and while he knew that the sum on hand was a large amount to have in such a place, it seemed about the only thing to do. Until recently Marshal Holmes had been in the habit of leaving any money on hand at night with T. A. Proctor, but Mr. Proctor not long ago notified him that it was against the rules of Wells, Fargo & Co. and the practice was accordingly discontinued. Upon being informed of the robbery Mr. Holmes at first thought that a joke was intended. Upon learning the true condition of affairs he at once informed Sheriff Grace and steps were taken to do everything possible towards apprehending the guilty parties.

– Press Democrat, November 20 1901

 

In his report concerning the accounts of City Tax Collector Holmes, Expert Pool states his inability to give the exact amount taken at the time of the alleged safe robbery in November, but shows there was a deficiency in the accounts of the tax collector’s office of $1299.16 on January 1, 1902.

– Press Democrat, January 8 1902

 

A SANTA ROSA SENSATION.
Popular City Official Said to Be Short in His Accounts.

The report of Expert William H. Pool on the amount of the shortage in the office of City Marshal and Tax Collector Charles H. Holmes of Santa Rosa was given to the common council at a meeting of that body Tuesday night.

In addition to the shortage of $1,299.16, which is due to the alleged robbery of the office on November 18th, the examination of the books discloses the fact that for a number of months during the last year the official has been in arrears in his settlements with the treasurer in amounts varying from $30 to $803.43. The latter amount was due the city on the first day of November, 1901. The marshal is ex-officio tax collector, and as such began the collection of taxes on October 21st. It is said he kept a crude record of his collections, but failed to make a balance of the receipts of any day during the period embraced from the date mentioned until the close of the collections on November 18th. During the time between 5 o’clock on the morning of November 19th, when Officers Herman Hankel, John M. Boyes and I. N. Lindley reported off duty, and 5:45 oclock when the janitress appeared on the scene to perform her labors, some one entered the office and opened the small safe. The taxes collected after banking hours on the 18th were in ths safe and the amount was extracted. Owing to the system of bookkeeping the entire receipts of the office had to be gone over to ascertain the amount of the shortage.

– Petaluma Daily Morning Courier, January 8 1902

 

EXPLAINS FIGURES
Interview With City Marshal Chas. H. Holmes Jr.
Denies Absolutely That He Was Short in His Accounts Previous to The Robbery on November 18

“…on October 17 I was square with the city except for a matter of some $34. On that date I figured up my books and paid over what I owed — or what I thought I owed. The way Mr. Pool figures it, I made a mistake of $34; but whether he is right or I was right, I certainly thought I was square with the city on that date. I did not make a complete settlement between that time and the date of the robbery just a month later, although of course I paid in different sums upon several occasions.
“That portion of Expert Pool’s report stating that I was behind with the city $803.43 on the first day of November, some two weeks before the robbery, while perhaps technically justified by figures, is not borne out by facts. On the date mentioned, as I remember, I paid a considerable sum over to the city treasurer several hours before the close of business….
“Some of the city papers have stated,” Mr. Holmes concluded, “that the affairs of my office were in bad shape for several months before the robbery. The report of the city’s own expert shows that just one month before the robbery occurred I was square with the city — or at least within thirty-four dollars of it, and as I say, I thought I was square to the last cent.”

– Press Democrat, January 10 1902

 

THE COIN PAID OVER
Text of the Protest Made by Marshal Holmes

“In line with what I stated at the first to the effect no one should lose the money but myself I idemnifled my bondsmen by a deed on my home for $800 advanced by them. I advanced $500 myself and will bring a suit for vindication, in the event of proving a robbery was committed, which I fully expect to do, shall leave the money in the City Treasury as the suit is brought for vindication alone.”

– Press Democrat, January 23 1902

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iva eyes2

CRAZY EYES

There were 49 prisoners awaiting execution but only one was a woman. That woman was Iva Kroeger.

On May 1, 1963 she was sentenced to death for the murders of Mildred and Jay Arneson and sent to the California Institution for Women at Frontera (AKA Corona State Prison) to await a decision on her appeal to the California Supreme Court. And to the surprise of many, the justices ordered her sentence be reconsidered on a technicality.

The court agreed her trial was fair and did not dispute her first degree murder conviction. But when giving instructions to the jury during the penalty phase of the trial, the judge erred by telling them a sentence to life imprisonment would make Iva eligible for parole, so there was a chance – however microscopic – she could be back on the streets in as little as seven years. Iva soon found herself headed back to San Francisco for a new (partial) trial.

But first: More medical reports – and guess what? The new experts contradicted all the previous experts!

Doctors at the state prison declared Iva had “chronic brain syndrome and central nervous system syphilis.” Her history of syphilis came up during the trial. A quarter-century earlier she was treated at a hospital and the medic at the San Francisco jail infirmary thought she had signs of paresis, which is a kind of chronic brain inflammation often found in late neurosyphilis. A doctor at the trial testified he didn’t believe it because she didn’t display the typical symptoms: “I won’t mention them unless you make me,” he said, “because she might have them tomorrow if I do.”

Iva was also seen by two new court-ordered psychiatrists. The three who had examined her before the trial said in court she was a “pathological liar” and a criminal sociopath putting on a show in hopes of avoiding punishment. The new crop of experts diagnosed her as fully psychotic.

Now certifiably physically and psychologically impaired, Iva was once again before Judge Neubarth, who had sentenced her to death almost exactly a year prior. This time she had two lawyers, one of them being famed litigator Melvin Belli whose law firm had also represented her in the damage suit over the injury that caused her incurable limp, which seemed to come and go.

Neubarth and the prosecutor had already agreed it would be a bench trial, as she was such a “mental defect” it would be inhumane to risk a new jury condemning her to death because such a verdict would be easily overturned on appeal. With no objections from her lawyers, Judge Neubarth reduced her sentence to life without parole. “When I say life, I mean life,” Neubarth stated. “She should never be returned to society. I am going to file a special report in which I will urge that she never be released.”

The hearing was over in 25 minutes and the shortened proceedings deprived Iva of a stage where she could perform for her fan club in the gallery. Still, she “…trundled into court in a wheelchair with her left leg bandaged heavily (apparently her own idea and not that of Corona physicians),” according to the San Francisco Examiner.

Afterwards she spoke with reporters in the hallway. “I never had a trial…I don’t believe the judge knowed the truth. I have 108 witnesses to prove my innocence.”

(Curiously, the Press Democrat didn’t have Bony Saludes or any other reporter at the hearing, choosing to print only a 150-word wire service brief which appeared in many other papers.)


HOW GUILTY WAS RALPH?

Iva and Ralph Kroeger were tried together for the Arneson murders, shared the same lawyer and both received a death penalty, but their trial judge rejected the jury’s decision and commuted his sentence to life imprisonment. The couple also filed their appeals to the California Supreme Court together – although the reasons asking for a mistrial were quite different.

Iva’s appeal had eight arguments that a white shoe lawyer might call desperatis precibus – let’s throw everything against the wall and see if anything sticks. Some of them were that she was forced to testify against herself, she didn’t have her own attorney, Ralph testified although he was her spouse and she deserved a sanity hearing even though the experts said she was not crazy. Most of these pleas were rejected because she had not brought them up as objections during the trial.

Ralph’s appeal had a single point: He should have had a separate trial. As summed up by the Supreme Court, he argued “…it is reasonable to believe he would have received a different verdict had the case been tried in the usual tranquil atmosphere of the courtroom, but that Iva’s misconduct during the trial so inflamed the jury that it returned its verdict against him out of passion and bias.” Again the high court tossed the argument because there weren’t earlier objections.

No one considered Ralph had any role in planning or committing the murders, and two of the newspaper reporters who covered the entire trial expected him to be acquitted. But he did tell deliberate lies in court and during questioning. Some of his statements and actions were likely to appease his volatile wife (see “The Hapless Husband” section in chapter two) but others point to him covering up crimes or suggest he knew more than he was willing to admit. Some examples:

*   In the summer of 1962 he claimed not to know the whereabouts of Iva, which he told authorities probably meant she was dead. In truth she was apparently hiding at the San Francisco house until she left on her cross-country bus trip in late June. Similarly Ralph said he never knew about or saw her two grandsons, even though a neighbor viewed Iva and Ralph with the kids through a window in August.

*   He said he believed Iva when she told him she was managing the Santa Rosa motel for a physician who bought it from Mildred Arneson in February, 1962. The prosecutor confronted Ralph for having said the mysterious doctor was paying for motel equipment two months before his supposed involvement.

*   Ralph denied cosigning bank loans from the Santa Rosa branch of Bank of America and the Exchange Bank. Handwriting experts testified it was indeed his signature under the name “Ralph Long,” the alias he and Iva used in Santa Rosa.

*   He never noticed the two crude concrete patches in his garage/basement, he insisted. Yet when the cement contractor came to pour a new floor and “picked up a sledgehammer and began to break some of the old cement,” stated the Supreme Court case overview, “The Kroegers angrily stopped him and said they did not want the concrete broken.”

So Iva went back to prison where she was supposed to stay until she died. Not that she minded it much; also in her hallway interview she said, “…I’ll be happy when I go back [to Corona] because they treat people like human beings down there.” In that era it was described as being like a college campus and the cell blocks like dormitories. It’s not hard to find interviews with prisoners insisting that no, it wasn’t all lollipops and puppies and yes, taxpayers should be assured they were being adequately punished.

A 1966 profile quoted the superintendent as saying she “looks very well.” Iva was being her usual sociable self according to the Oakland Tribune, “acting as a runner for the other sixty inmates in her cottage, carrying notes or going on errands.” Ralph wrote to her weekly and tapped his small pension to send her pin money to get cosmetics and such at the prison canteen. Later that year Ralph died of cancer at Folsom State Prison; he is buried at the Lakeside Memorial Lawn Cemetery in Folsom.

The article didn’t mention Iva’s trademark limp, but the superintendent said she was using crutches. She also told the paper that Iva was going blind. “She can’t see from one eye at all. We’re getting her started learning Braille.”

Gentle Reader may recall Iva had a permanently blown out left pupil (a condition known as anisocoria) but neither eye reacted to light. There are several possible causes of the condition; most often it’s from some sort of traumatic brain injury. During her months in Santa Rosa Iva incessantly complained she had to have an operation to fix her gimpy leg, but immediately after being apprehended by the FBI she switched gears – now some sort of expensive eye surgery was needed to save her vision. Anisocoria does not cause blindness.

Time passed. Iva and her horrible deeds were still rehashed in tabloid crime magazines. When reporters and cops who worked on the case retired or died, new details or observations emerged from interviews and obits: “She had 97 different personae. She could be anything she wanted to be.” “Every day was something new. She turned out to be a class A psychopath.” “She even admitted in court, when her husband was sentenced with her, that she had done it all by herself. ‘I lowered them into the hole with wires,’ she screamed.” Were all of those things true? Yeah, maybe. Sure.

The San Francisco Examiner kept track of her for awhile, with little items noting her first parole hearing in 1972 and how she always sent a Christmas poem to Judge Neubarth and birthday greetings to prosecutor Frank Shaw. When Governor Pat Brown made an inspection tour she told him “I was convicted by the newspapers,” and he muttered something that encouraged her to start boasting she would “have a job in the Brown administration” once she got out of the joint.

But it was the Press Democrat and not the Examiner that turned up the real scoop. Gaye LeBaron made an idle query in 1977 to find out how the state might treat a geriatric psychopathic killer. She was surprised to hear “the strange, stumpy, gabby little woman” was paroled in August, 1975. She had served 12 years and three months.


She’s 56 now [Ed: she was actually 59] and totally blind, perhaps from the same disease that killed her husband. Her parole officer says she uses her middle name, Lucille, makes no trouble, “she’s just a bit of a nuisance.” She rides all over Riverside on the city buses with her white cane and likes to tell people how she “served 13 years for a crime she didn’t commit.” She’s going to college, taking sociology classes at UC Riverside and UCLA both, and writing a book about her life which ought to be some story. She has become an active Scientologist and holds much hope for the future…

LeBaron remarked the terms of Iva’s parole (supposedly) legally enjoined her from returning to Northern California, but news that “Grandma” Kroeger was loose still caused “some sweaty palms in town.” The widow of Herbert Willsmore, the tradesman Iva threatened to shoot, said he believed to his dying day he was going to be her next murder victim. The Forestville couple who held the actual mortgage on the Santa Rosa Ave. motel likewise feared she was going to come after them.

In a subsequent column Gaye explained she tried to find out why the parole board released Iva despite her lack of contrition for the gruesome crimes and Judge Neubarth’s plea to toss away the cell door key after locking her up forever. Alas, LeBaron was told details of those prison records were lost in a fire. All we know is the board’s decision was “based on her behavior while she was incarcerated.”

Yet it’s très facile to picture the scene at the parole hearing – after all, she had rehearsed for this performance all of her adult life. Iva walks in – sorry, LIMPS in – with her white cane, probably leaning on the arm of an officer. She is so darn sweet and lovable and has suffered such a difficult life the most hard-hearted member of the parole board wants to reach out to give her a big hug and promise everything will be better. She is the kindest kind of grandmother and arises each dewy morn with a prayer that she will find new ways to inspire everyone to be their better selves. If such a saint doesn’t deserve clemency, then who?

(RIGHT: Iva Kroeger shortly after her 1962 arrest in San Diego. Photo enhanced using HotPot AI)ivaflutter

The most interesting question to debate is how much her near total blindness weighed in the board’s decision. It surely was impossible for her to offend again (not that she would!) and releasing a severely handicapped prisoner would save the Dept. of Corrections more than a few bucks – Gov. Brown was warning there was a need for “public sacrifice” in 1975 because of a very tight budget, even as the California prison population was growing year over year. On the flip side, she had no close family to help care for her and might require even more support from the state once freed.1

As Gaye LeBaron revealed, it turned out Iva was able to get along just fine. After her column appeared the Examiner followed with more details in its own Iva update. Her parole officer told the paper she lived alone in a small apartment in Riverside with an income of $334/mo. from Social Security and disability. “She has extremely limited vision, but she has gone to the Braille Institute and reads Braille very well.” Nonetheless, she had a B+ average at UC/Riverside and was majoring in sociology. And, of course, “she maintains her innocence to everyone.”

The saga of Iva Kroeger might have ended with her continuing on that path for the remainder of her life – content to be out of jail with no worries of being destitute, which seemed to be her driving fear. Free to pursue her offbeat metaphysical beliefs and pestering strangers for attention by wailing about her unjust fate.

But there’s a final chapter to her story that’s on par with many of the other outrageous stunts she pulled. Only this time there was an underlying question about herself that dwarfed the actual crime: Was Iva actually blind – or even visually impaired at all? Had she fooled prison officials, doctors and even the Braille Institute, she was unquestionably one of the greatest confidence artists of all time.

She disappeared after her parole ended in the early 1980s. Her former parole agent told LeBaron she was then living in Long Beach and a religious group in Hawaii offered a permanent administrative job (clue #1 she might not be totally blind). But she instead reverted to her original scam which was impersonating a nurse. She traveled around the country by bus, picking up convalescent jobs.

On one of those bus rides she met a real nurse from San Diego named Edna Weitzel and claimed to be a wealthy landlord who needed a trustworthy assistant to help manage her extensive real estate portfolio. Edna agreed to work for her and they spent a couple of days together gambling in Las Vegas before Iva disappeared. At the time Edna was unaware Iva had swiped her credentials until months later when she was notified by police looking for Iva.2


THE LIFE AND CRIMES OF IVA KROEGER

MURDER MOTEL ON SANTA ROSA AVE

GRANDMA’S MURDERS

ELUSIVE IVA, WHO IS EVERYWHERE

DISORDER IN THE COURT

CRAZY EYES

By 1983 she was mainly working in Florida, where she had relatives. Gentle Reader might recall when Iva was on the lam in 1962 she visited her son who lived near Fort Meyers, taking his young sons back to California with her, where she promptly abandoned them. Whether by coincidence or no, her brother and his extended family also had a home in a different Ft. Meyers suburb. That two branches of her family happened to be near each other would later confuse investigators and newspapers who assumed they must be the same.3

A crisis began in July 1986 when the 18 month-old daughter of Iva’s nephew drowned in a swimming pool. Her father was co-owner of a grocery in Cape Coral and was at work on the day of the child’s death. The nephew and his family didn’t believe his long hours played a role in the accident but Iva took the notion the toddler wouldn’t have died had he been home. Specifically, she blamed his partner Andy Pitcher for scheduling her nephew to be at the store at the time.

And then the death threats began. Instead of her usual M.O. of using an alias, she started calling the Pitcher home and making sure they knew it was Iva Kroeger on the line. “I’m an old woman and I’ve already served 16 years [sic] and the only thing I haven’t decided is how I’m going to kill you.” She had nothing to lose and “if you don’t believe me, check the records. I’ve killed before,” she reportedly said, before describing exactly how she murdered the Arnesons.

Iva told the family she knew “who took the kids to and from day care” and even “where he sat at church.” Pitcher bought a gun and told the kids not to play outside. Their housekeeper took their youngest children, age four and six, to stay with someone on the other side of the state.

Those harassing calls went on for weeks until there was a knock on the door at 12:30 AM. Andy Pitcher opened the door to see an elderly woman. When she asked if Andy lived there, he knew it was Iva. He noticed she was carrying a plastic bag with what appeared to be the barrel of a handgun sticking out the top.

“Hey, you’ve got the wrong house,” he told her.

Incredibly, the bluff worked. Iva wandered away and began waking up neighbors, claiming to be an aunt trying to find Andy’s house. He immediately called the police.

“This lady’s Iva Kroeger and she’s here to kill me!” Pitcher told the policeman answering the call, just as Iva was returning to his house.

Iva – always the most adroit of liars when cornered – gave the officer a fake name, said she was from out of town and lost, trying to find her nephew. She didn’t know anything about this Andy Pitcher fellow or why he was saying bad things about her.

The rookie cop believed the sweet old lady completely. He didn’t look in her bag and gave her a lift to a downtown Holiday Inn. And true to form, she disappeared. That was the last contact law enforcement would ever have with the infamous Iva Kroeger.

It took several weeks for word to reach California that Iva had resurfaced and was again threatening to kill someone. Both the Examiner and Press Democrat refreshed reader’s memories of the 25 year old Iva murder saga, while Gaye LeBaron tied up a crucial loose end: “Police in Cape Coral, Fla., said yesterday there was nothing to indicate she had difficulty seeing when she went to the home of a man she had declared responsible for the death of her grandnephew [sic] and threatened him with a gun.”

EPILOGUE

We know about her Florida escapades thanks to Cape Coral police detective David Stadelman. After Pitcher’s complaint reached his desk, Stadelman tumbled down the Iva Kroeger rabbit hole, spending a month looking into the history of the killer grandma before seeking a warrant for felony aggravated assault.

Detective Stadelman was a thorough investigator, although delving into Iva-ology from Florida couldn’t have been easy in 1987, sans internet and the ability to read all the old newspaper coverage of her life and crimes. He presumably contacted the San Francisco police and likely the FBI and Sonoma County sheriff as well. He soaked up all he could from the Pitchers and the family of Iva’s nephew. He studied her diaries and mementos left behind when she fled. And one of the things he found revealed she had been back to Santa Rosa.

She may have been (supposedly) prohibited from returning to Northern California but that was just while on parole. So although there was no legal prohibition from her being here afterward, it raises the question why she would want to do so – it’s a strain to imagine she had any friends in the area dating back to her crime spree a couple of decades earlier. And how was she supporting herself? Was she working here in nursing homes under an alias, as she did elsewhere?

Let’s jump now to 1989, over two years since she was last seen in Florida. Charlie Raudebaugh, the San Francisco Chronicle reporter who had covered all of Iva’s 1963 murder trial was now retired and living in Oakmont. One February morning he was at Montgomery Village where “he spotted two women about 10 feet away, obviously killing time waiting for a shop to open,” as he said to Gaye LeBaron. Here’s what else he told her:


… One was tall and white haired, quite well dressed. He said he thought, “There’s a dignified-looking middle-aged lady taking her mother out,” and then he realized the “mother” was Iva Kroeger. “Her gestures were the same. She had the same gimp (Kroeger was lame). She moves her hands in an unmistakable scoop-like fashion.” He is absolutely certain it is the same woman who led police on a nationwide chase and made horrifying headlines so many years ago. She realized she was being watched and looked at Raudebaugh. “There was a light of recognition,” Charlie said. “Her gaze intensified and then she turned away”…The woman Raudebaugh saw Monday had no white cane.

As with the Press Democrat’s Bony Saludes, the trial was arguably the biggest and most memorable story of his career. Counting the court hearings before and after, Raudebaugh spent about three months within a few feet of Iva. Sure, he possibly could have mistaken someone else for her – goddesses know so many people did when she was a fugitive – but there were few who could be considered a more reliable witness to identify her. But again, why in the world would she be comfortable being back in Santa Rosa?

Whether or not he really spotted Iva here in 1989, she was then 71 years old and a woman with few options left. It’s impossible to imagine the family would have anything more to do with her. She probably couldn’t get anyone to hire her; even with a stolen or fake ID stating she was younger (and you just know she would have had one) she was a petite and frail-looking old lady who hardly seemed capable of the long hours and physical rigors of convalescent nursing. Perhaps that “dignified-looking middle-aged lady” was someone she conned into supporting her, at least for the moment.

Hard times were on the horizon. We know that in Oct. 1991 she was in contact with Social Security, probably to update records on where her checks should be sent. She was then living in Boston at the Pine St. Inn. It was a homeless shelter.

The charity had a “Women in Transition” program, funded by HUD and the Massachusetts welfare dept. where indigent women could stay up to two years until permanent housing could be found. Iva had reverted to using her birth name Lucille and had also reverted to using a white cane. A May 20, 1993 article in the Boston Globe mentioned her: “Lucille Kroeger, 69, and a Women in Transition guest, is blind and listens to tapes from the Perkins School for the Blind in her cheerfully-decorated room. She has written 418 poems, many at the inn.”

Shortly after that she was moved to St. Helena’s House, a 73 apartment building for the elderly owned by the Boston Archdiocese. Iva lived there the rest of her life.

Iva Lucille Kroeger died June 26, 2000 at the Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital in Boston, which was Harvard’s teaching hospital. She had cervical cancer but her cause of death was a heart attack. Her remains were cremated.

True to form, her death certificate contained multiple lies. She was 81 (not 77). She had taken a couple of years of college classes but had not completed two years towards a specific degree. She wasn’t a homemaker. She didn’t own a house. And her name was never legally Iva. In death as in life, she wrapped herself in fog.

 

1 A 1974 paper in Stanford Law Review stated paroled inmates in California were required to participate in a work or training furlough program on release. That article, however, was specifically about men and does not say what conditions were imposed on those who were disabled and/or elderly.

2 Curiously, no articles about the 1986 incidents can be found in any Florida newspapers currently online. Besides the Press Democrat items cited below, the main source of information came from the Feb. 15 1987 San Francisco Examiner.

3 “The Florida police say she isn’t a Grandma at all, that the children she traveled with in 1962 and abandoned in Oakland weren’t her grandsons but her nephews. One of them may be the father of the drowned child which set her off on her latest rampage.” Gaye LeBaron, Feb. 18 1987

 

sources

 

(Press Democrat articles related to this chapter only)

 

LAWYER HAGERTY TO APPEAL LIFE SENTENCE FOR RALPH (May 2 1963, no byline)

HIGH COURT REVERSES IVA’S DEATH SENTENCE (March 31 1964, UPI byline)

KROEGER RETRIAL TO START (May 13 1964, no byline)

IVA ESCAPES GAS CHAMBER (July 3 1964, no byline)

IVA KROEGER GOING BLIND IN PRISON (February 27 1966, Oakland Tribune reprint)

SR KILLER DIES IN PRISON (August 26 1966, no byline)

GAYE LEBARON (October 16 1977)

GAYE LEBARON (October 28 1977)

GAYE LEBARON (October 14 1984)

GAYE LEBARON (October 24 1984)

KILLER GRANDMA HUNTED IN FLORIDA (February 16 1987, Robert Digitale byline)

GAYE LEBARON (February 18 1987)

‘SWEET’ IVA KROEGER’S GRIM CAREER (February 22 1987, Bony Saludes byline)

FLORIDA POLICE STILL PURSUE ELUSIVE LITTLE OLD LADY (February 22 1987, no byline)

GAYE LEBARON (March 2 1987)

GAYE LEBARON (February 15 1989)

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