300 Block

Last Shore Leave

Location: 350 Clay Street
Date: June 3, 1946

In the not-quite-twelve hours since John M. Kelly was discharged from the Marine Corps, he somehow took up with Henry Ehlert, 44, and Dwight C. Lester, 23, of this address and John Graham, 43, a Naval chief petty officer stationed in San Diego.

Kelly's first night as a civilian was a notable one: he and his pals drew the attention of Traffic Officer F.J. Rees, investigating reports of a holdup in an alley between Main and Spring, and when Kelly made a funny move when ordered to put 'em up, Rees shot half his face off.

Reading between the lines

Location: 350 Clay Street
Date: November 25, 1919

John Roebling tells police that as far as his confused memory can be relied on, a man and a young woman clad in boy's clothing chloroformed him in his room and relieved him of $20 before fleeing in a car. We cannot but suspect the full story is more interesting, and regret Mr. Roebling's discretion.

Suicide Writ Large at Clay Central

blammo

Before the Community Redevelopment Association swung its scythe across Bunker Hill, one building tried to do itself in. This structure was by all evidence a living, cursed thing, and like the House of Usher disappearing into the tarn, it acted to remove itself from this world. Shades of the Overlook Hotel—someone or something used the old exploding boiler trick to force this assembly of apartments from its supramortal coil.

I speak of the Hotel Central, aka the Clayton Apartments, aka the Lorraine Hotel. Change the names all you want, there’s something wrong at 310 Clay Street. Kim’s numerous posts about the place attest to that.

Red Light Raid

Location: 310 Clay Street
Date: June 15, 1915

The Redlight Abatement Act is now law, and the first establishment to be entered by crowbar, ax and the strong arms of police and DA's men was the Hotel Clayton, formerly the Lorraine. The authorities interrupted a gay midnight dinner party and made prisoners of all 25 inside, including some panic-stricken ladies who begged to be turned loose as their husbands didn't know they were out. In all, 17 men and 8 women were seized.

Among those arrested, 75-year-old proprietress Mrs. Florence Cheney (held on $5000 bail for pandering and $2000 for contributing to her 16-year-old granddaughter Florence Emery's delinquency). Florence is now in the hands of juvenile authorities and her mother Ella Emery is being held on vagrancy charges.

In the Death Room

Location: 310 Clay Street
Date: May 3, 1914

Shenanigans in Hotel Lorraine Death Room

The Most Beautiful Woman on Spring Street

nellie murdoch and slayer claude mathewson at Hotel Lorraine

Location: 310 Clay Street

Date: April 11, 1914

Claude Mathewson lived and died by the philosophy "The better the day, the better the deed." He'd often slip this bon mot into conversation in the basement dives of Spring Street, and if his tipsy companions didn't know what the hell he meant in life, they got an inkling today as he lays dead.

At the time of his death Claude was joint proprietor of the Hotel Lorraine with his paramour Nellie Buck, aka Nellie Murdock, the black-haired Irish of 24 who was known as "The Most Beautiful Woman on Spring Street" -- a phrase that damns as it praises, for it is a certain kind of woman who frequents the rowdy cafes of this avenue.

A Night Visitor

Location: 310 Clay Street
Date: July 6, 1900

Around midnight, it's reported, a bold burglar entered the Royal Anderson residence. Mrs. Anderson, wife of a musician at the Imperial Cafe, was reading in a back bedroom and awaiting her husband's return when she was startled by a crook who grabbed her arms from behind and snarled those immortal words, "Hello, here you are, hey!?"

The lady snapped, "You get right out of here or I'll scream and arouse the neighbors." (The house is a double dwelling.) "No you won't," said the crook, and gagged her with a hanky. Then he searched the room, but finding no valuables, he skedaddled. As soon as she realized she was alone, Mrs. Anderson yelled, and neighbors sought out the criminal without success. The clever victim had concealed her watch in her gown throughout the ordeal.

The suspect was a slim fellow of about 5'10"m in a faded brown suit and a light Fedora. He had a brown moustache and wore a black mask over his upper face. So peel an eye for him in your rambles, and don't forget to lock your windows.

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