Showing posts with label San Francisco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label San Francisco. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

St. Francis Hotel: The Jazz Singer


He is seen out of the corner of the eye for just a fleeting second.

Al Jolson
In October of 1950, Al Jolson—born Asa Yoelson-- a singer and entertainer died of a massive heart attack while playing cards with friends in his suite at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco.

Jolson who considered San Francisco his home had just returned from entertaining American troops in Korea. He was in town to appear on the Bing Crosby radio show.

Jolson was playing gin rummy with two friends, Martin Freid his arranger and accompanist and Harry Akst, a songwriter when shortly after 10:30 P.M. he collapsed.

His last words are said to have been, “Boys, I’m going.”

Since, witnesses state that Jolson haunts this suite, number 1221, the same suite that was involved in the Roscoe Fatty Arbuckle scandal years before.

St. Francis Hotel 
It is actually said three famous Hollywood Stars haunt this suite at the St. Francis, Jolson, Arbuckle and Barrymore.

From the 1920s until the 1940s Al Jolson was a famous American entertainer. His broad smile and charm became legendary.

He first became popular when he appeared in vaudeville in blackface * singing in old time minstrel shows based upon African American music.

* At this time blacks rarely appeared in front of white audiences so white entertainers would put on blackface makeup and imitate African American singers.

Jolson became a huge star when he was featured in the world’s first talking picture, The Jazz Singer in 1927. In this film he plays the son of an orthodox cantor who choses not to follow in his father’s footsteps but instead becomes a jazz singer.

This role mirrored Jolson’s real life for his father was a rabbi and cantor.

After The Jazz Singer Jolson appeared in a series of box office flops, which doomed his film career. In 1946, he had a brief comeback when he dubbed the singing for the film The Jolson Story—he however did not appear onscreen.

At the time of his death Jolson was about to launch a television career—he was viewed as “the grand old man of show business.”

Witnesses who have seen his ghost at the St. Francis state they only saw him out of the corner of their eyes for a brief second.

He is observed playing cards at a table. His attention is fixated upon the cards in front of him.

The following video shows Jolson’s last film role—a cameo in the George Gershwin’s hit Rhapsody in Blue.

He is singing in blackface—which viewed from today’s perspective, is offensive at best. But I place the video here because it is of Jolson singing Swanee, the only video of him performing this song.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Last Notable Duel in America



Two twin granite shafts stand at the southern tip of Lake Merced in the southwestern part of San Francisco.

One of these stones bears the name Terry in bronze letters, its twin bears the name Broderick again in bronze letters.

A duel that occurred between these two men resulted in a haunting.

Justice Terry
SF Public Library
 and History Center.
U.S. Senator David C. Broderick was fatally wounded on this spot when California’s ex- Supreme Court Chief Justice David S. Terry challenged him to a duel, in the mid-1850s.

This duel was the result of a bitter struggle that was occurring within the state’s Democratic Party—over the hotly debated issue of slavery.

Justice Terry was the privileged son of a Kentucky family who made their fortune and prospered because of slave labor.

He wore fine clothes and was an educated gentleman, and was pro-slavery.

Senator Broderick
SF Public Library
and History Center

In contrast, Senator Broderick was the son of a stonemason. He did not wear fine clothes or have fancy manners. He had been baptized into politics via New York City’s rough Tammany Hall.

He was a friend of the civil rights activist leader, Frederick Douglass. He was firmly against slavery.

Broderick and Terry were originally good friends and allies in the Democratic Party, but when the issue of slavery became a hot topic, their relationship changed.

When Terry was not re-elected he publically blamed Broderick. This resulted in a bitter, accusatory battle between the two.

Justice Terry attacked Broderick for socializing with African-Americans, and for his advocating for freeing the slaves.

Senator Broderick hit back defending his beliefs and then questioned Terry’s judgment, ethics, and ancestry.

Terry then challenged Broderick to a duel. Broderick accepted, knowing he would be marked a coward if he didn’t.

At dawn, on September 13, 1859, the two men stood 10 yards apart near Lake Merced.

Belgium .58 caliber pistols were used. Both men were excellent marksmen, but Terry had practiced with one gun the day before—Broderick hadn’t.

Both pistols had hair-triggers but Broderick’s gun was more delicate and his seconds, inexperienced, did not grasp the significance of this difference.

Broderick fired first—but the gun fired as he raised his arm, and his bullet hit the ground near Terry.

Terry then shot Broderick, and he fell to the ground, wounded. He died three days later. He stated on his deathbed, “They have killed me because I oppose slavery . . .”

After his death, 30,000 people crowded into Portsmouth Square to listen to Broderick’s funeral oration.

Several witnesses to this duel were outraged and accused Terry of tampering with the pistols. He was arrested and put on trial, but the case was dismissed.

After Broderick’s death, a public and legislative outcry resulted in duels being outlawed. This is why this case is known as “The Last Notable American Duel.”

Eighteen months after this duel, American’s were fighting the Civil War to decide the issue of slavery.

Broderick’s ghost has been seen in various places.

One story states Broderick is still standing up for racial equality. His ghost has been seen joining civil rights demonstrations and marching.

His ghost is also seen on foggy fall mornings, near the spot where he lost his life. He is seen shooting into the ground and then clutching his chest in agony.  Finally, he is seen collapsing to the ground.

Most who have seen his ghost near the lake were not aware of this history.

The two granite obelisks mark where each man stood.
Photo: The BrokenlnaGlory
The site where Broderick was wounded, is a registered California Historical Landmark.

The pistols that were used in this duel were auctioned off in San Francisco in 1998 for $34,000.
SF Public Library
and History Center

Friday, April 10, 2015

San Francisco’s Emperor

From the1860s to the 1880s San Francisco had one resident that proclaimed himself the first “Emperor of the United States and protector of Mexico” by placing an ad in the San Francisco Bulletin newspaper.

Emperor Norton
This self-proclamation was to say the least unusual, but what made it even more interesting is most San Franciscans acknowledged Emperor Norton. They often saluted him and even paid taxes to him.

Of course, Emperor Norton was insane but he was also a most beloved character about town.

In yet, another unusual twist to this story Emperor Norton is still seen in San Francisco today even though he died in 1880.

Joshua A. Norton was born in England in 1819. He came to San Francisco in 1849 at the age of 30. A shrewd businessman he quickly amassed a fortune for the time--$250,000.

He made his money by buying and selling ships, real estate, and mining claims. But alas, when he and partners tried to corner the market on rice, their gamble failed.

SF cable cars on steep hill in 1870s
Norton lost all his money and his mind in1856. Now, living in poverty he became deluded and elected himself emperor.

A local tailor made him an ornate blue and red uniform for free. He was seen parading up and down the city streets accompanied by his two mutts, Bummer and Lazarus.

He was well liked in part because of his decrees. Some were humorous and others were wise beyond their time. He ordered a bridge be placed where the Golden Gate stands today.

One of his most popular proclamations dissolved both the Democratic and Republican parties--as he put it “in the interests of peace and harmony among all men.”

He always had enough to eat because restaurants gave him free food, they found he attracted paying customers.

His loyal subjects, the fine residents of San Francisco, willingly bought 50-cent bonds that he issued. Saloons across the city paid him “taxes” in the form of drinks. He printed his own money and merchants accepted it as payment.

Emperor Norton riding
his bicycle around the city.
SF Public Library
When Emperor Norton died the city gave him a grand send off. But his ghost lingers.

On cold and foggy nights in downtown San Francisco witnesses have met the Emperor’s ghost. He still wears his uniform, covered in gold braid. His coat is adorned with rows of metals.

He also wears an engraved sword at his side.

Witnesses are warned not to forget to bow or salute when they see him, for he was a "kind and harmless" leader who deserves respect.

Here is a fun podcast about Emperor Norton on sparkletack.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Arbuckle: Hollywood’s First Scandal, Part ll


At San Francisco’s Westin St. Francis Hotel guests still ask to see where the infamous Labor Day party took place over 90 years ago.

Weston St, Francis Hotel

The management is happy to oblige if the suite is unoccupied. But no one knows what really happened.

Only one thing is known for sure, and that is one afternoon in September of 1921 Virginia Rappe was screaming in agony on one bed in this suite.

Later that week she died.

The man charged with her death was Roscoe Arbuckle--Hollywood’s first one million dollar star.

I Can’t Go

It was Labor Day weekend and Roscoe’s friend and director Fred Fischbach convinced him to take a 3-day vacation. Roscoe tried to back out because he had burned himself and was in pain.

He had taken his luxury Pierce-Arrow to a garage to have it checked out. He sat on a crate to wait for the mechanic’s opinion. He did not see the acid-soaked rag and ended up with 2nd degree burns on his bottom.

Fischbach who really wanted to go convinced Roscoe to change his mind. Roscoe, Fischbach and actor Lowell Sherman rented 3 adjourning rooms at the St. Francis--suite’s 1219, 1220, and 1221.

It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend. The three men threw a party for friends.

Uninvited Guests

Virginia Rappe
One uninvited guest at this party was Virginia Rappe. Rappe’s former boyfriend director Henry Pathe Lehrman had a long-running feud with Roscoe.

Rappe who had a tumultuous on and off again relationship with Lehreman had given an earlier scathing interview about Roscoe to a movie magazine. She called him “disgusting and crude…vulgar and disrespectful.”

Her comments contrasted with most reports given by the women that actually knew the comedian. They all considered Arbuckle to be dapper and a polite gentleman--including his estranged wife, Minty.

Minta "Minty" Durfee
At the time Rappe traveled to San Francisco it was believed that she was pregnant with Lehrman’s child and was seeking an abortion.

An Extortionist

Rappe brought two other uninvited guests with her. Her manager Al Semnacher and a woman she had just met on the trip up the coast, Bambina Maude Delmont.

Bambina Maude Delmont
It is speculated that Delmont arranged for Rappe to get the abortion before they reached San Francisco.

Delmont had a history of many run-ins with the police. She had been charged with extortion, bigamy, fraud, and racketeering.

She was known to be “a professional correspondent: a woman hired to provide compromising pictures to use in divorce cases or for illegal purposes such as blackmail.”

Among these cases were celebrities whom she had threatened to release condemning evidence about if they did not pay her.

She was the one who accused Arbuckle of raping and murdering Virginia Rappe.

The Party

Seeing Rappe and Delmont at the party, Roscoe voiced his concerns to his friends. He expressed that their “bad reputations” might cause the police to raid the party. This was a concern for they were serving bootleg alcohol--in 1921 Prohibition was being enforced.

After most of the partygoers left Rappe and Delmont remained. Roscoe went to his bedroom to change clothes so he could drive a friend, Mae Traub into town.

What happened next is hotly debated but most researchers who have tried to find the truth agree that Roscoe found Rappe in a dead faint on the bathroom floor.

Roscoe then carried Rappe to a nearby bed. Rappe requested water, so Roscoe got her a glass. When he returned, she had rolled off the bed and was on the floor moaning. He assisted her back into the bed and went to get an ice bucket.

Arbuckle felt the ice would help calm Rappe down--it did not work. Delmont entered the room and discussed Rappe’s distress with Roscoe, they both, came to the conclusion that Rappe was merely drunk.

A Turn for the Worse

Suddenly, Rappe screamed, she then tore at her clothes. According to Delmont, she said hysterically, “Stay away from me! I don’t want you near me!”

Then she supposedly turned to Delmont and said the words that later condemned the comedian. “What did he do to me, Maude? Roscoe did this to me.”

After this, the bathtub was filled with cold water, and Rappe was placed in the tub--this finally calmed her down. Fishbach and Roscoe helped her out and escorted her to room 1227.

Roscoe arranged for the hotel manager to call the hotel doctor. He was not available, so another doctor was called in. His diagnosis was she was merely drunk. The party continued and Roscoe drove Traub home.

When he returned the hotel physician, Dr. Arthur Beardslee arrived to take a look at Rappe. He gave her morphine, and she drifted off to sleep.

He returned the next day and again treated Rappe with morphine. Delmont told him that she had not urinated in hours.

Delmont them called in a Dr. Melville Rumwell, a man she knew well enough to call “Rummy.” When he arrived Delmont told him that Rappe had taken sick and that a drunken Roscoe had dragged her into a room and raped her--or had at least tried to.

Runwell found no evidence of rape and treated Rappe for pain and trouble urinating. Delmont had previously told Dr. Beardslee a similar story.

On Tuesday afternoon Roscoe checked out of the hotel--not aware of Delmont’s statements.

A couple of days later a feverish Rappe was taken to a hospital. She died there on Friday, September 9th. The cause was noted as an infection caused by a ruptured bladder.

In Part lll of Roscoe Arbuckle: Hollywood’s First Scandal I share information about the lies, rumors, and Arbuckle’s three trials. 

Saturday, April 5, 2014

San Francisco’s Ghost of Stow Lake


Stow Lake 
This lake is located in Golden Gate Park. This park has the distinction of being the most visited park in the U.S. It was modeled after New York City’s Central Park and covers 1,017 acres.

The attractions at the park include: the DeYoung Museum, the Japanese Tea Garden, The Conservatory of Flowers, The Beach Chalet, Spreckels Park, and some resident ghosts.

The most famous ghost story or legend connected to the park is the story surrounding Stow Lake. This story has been told for over 100 years. It was first mentioned in the San Francisco Chronicle on Jan. 6, 1908.

In this story, it was reported that a mysterious figure was seen blocking a car on its way out of the park. Police later pulled over the driver, Arthur Pigeon, for speeding. He was frightened and noticeably panicked.

Later he told the Chronicle:

It was a thin, tall figure in white. It had long, fair hair and was barefooted.”

Pigeon noted he did not see a face and that it frightened him to the point that he was anxious to getaway from the park.

This ghost is said to be the mother of three children. She lost one of them at the park. One version states she was boating on Stow Lake in the late 1800s when her toddler accidentally fell in the water. The young mother desperate jumped in to rescue the baby--both drowned. *

Over the years many witnesses have reported seeing this woman late at night searching for her baby around Stow Lake. She is described the same way each time.

She is seen wearing a “dirty white dress,” soaking wet with long hair. She is most often seen wandering the lake’s edge looking anxiously into the water. Her ghost is also seen on Strawberry Hill, which overlooks the lake.

* Another version from the 1930s has a young teen pregnant and unwed wanting to hide this fact from her family. It is said she disposed of her baby in the lake and then committed suicide.

Stow Lake and Strawberry Hill

A Statue that Moves

Photo by Chris Stewart
Taken before repairs
were done.
An unusual phenomenon connected to this haunting is a statue called, Pioneer Women and Children. This statue is near the lake and the old log cabin that houses the California Women’s Pioneer Association.

When the ghost is active at the lake witnesses, report this statue moves as well. Another trigger is when people stand near it late at night. The figure then comes to life and changes positions. Its' face changes shape, and sometimes it has no arms or head.

Legend Trippers

Another legend connected to the Golden Gate Park is that if several cars drive near the lake at night, they will all stall at the same time.

Teens chant: "White Lady," three times, it is said this will make the ghost appear. Then the spirit will ask, “Have you seen my baby?”

If the witness replies, “Yes,” the ghost will haunt them. If they respond, “No,” it is said the While Lady will kill them.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Atherton Mansion: San Francisco’s Most Haunted




There are several mansions in San Francisco, California that are considered haunted. Most of these mansions are located in the exclusive Pacific Heights district. 


They all have fascinating histories connected to them, but the mansion that has the most fascinating story is the Atherton Mansion located at the corner of Octavia and California streets. 

This mansion is considered haunted even today.

A very bitter lady by the name of Dominga de Goni built the Atherton Mansion after her husband died. Hers was not a happy marriage. 

Dominga, was the daughter of a prominent Chileno family when she met her husband Faxon D. Atherton who had traveled to Chili in 1834. Atherton made his fortune in trade, he married Dominga and moved to California where he was one of the wealthiest businessmen on the Pacific coast. 

He and Dominga had seven children, but Faxon was a notorious womanizer who alienated his wife and family.

Dominga left to her own devices used her husband’s wealth to create her own powerful social world. This included a strict dominance over her family. 

Her eldest son George Atherton, who later married one of California’s most prominent authors, Gertrude Franklin Horn was often the brunt of his mother’s domineering ways. 

Upon her husband's death, Dominga had the Atherton Mansion built. When it was completed in 1881, Dominga and George and his new wife Gertrude moved in.




Unfortunately, George never lived up to the standards his mother expected from his father’s son. He, in fact, became a social embarrassment for his prominent family. 


George’s wife Gertrude was also a strong-willed woman, so George found himself stuck between two very domineering women. His manhood was challenged regularly.

Finally, fed up, George in 1887, accepted an invitation to sail to Chili. He stated to his wife and mother he was going to visit friends. But he actually hoped that he might follow in his father’s footsteps so that he could prove his worth once and for all. 

But the trip proved to be disastrous. George developed kidney problems during the voyage and died.

The ship’s captain preserved George’s remains by storing his body in a barrel of rum, which was shipped back to the Atherton household several weeks later. 

No note arrived with the cask of rum, so the family butler assumed it was just rum. He and the rest of the household received a nasty shock when the barrel was opened to reveal the body of his former master.

George’s body was dried out and buried, but his spirit has never rested peacefully. Shortly after his burial, the two women that had plagued him in life began to have very unnerving experiences. 

Both Dominga and Gertrude reported being awakened in the middle of the night, by loud knocks upon their bedroom doors. Even more unsettling, both ladies described a menacing presence that seemed to lurk in their rooms. 

The activity became so pronounced that Dominga decided to move out of the Atherton Mansion—she sold it shortly afterward.

But the nightly disturbances didn’t end. Each new tenant described hearing endless knocks and feeling cold spots. The new owners never stayed very long. 

This pattern continued until 1923 when the property was sold to an eccentric lady by the name of Carrie Rousseau. Carrie took up residence in the mansion’s ballroom * surrounded by over 50 cats. She lived in the Atherton Mansion until her death in 1974 at age 93.

In recent years, the mansion was remodeled and made into several apartments. But the activity still occurs. 

Residents .report moving cold spots, winds that blow through closed rooms, and strange voices at night. The knocking sounds are still heard as well. ** 

People who have investigated the house state that there are three female spirits present, “who just don’t like men,” and there is also a frail male spirit in the house. Some believe these spirits are the ghosts of Dominga, George, and Gertrude Atherton, the third female spirit, is believed to be Carrie Rousseau.

* She converted the ballroom's orchestra chamber into her living space. Her cats lived in the adjoining apartment, formally the Atherton Mansion banquet hall.

** The San Francisco Chronicle ran a story about one tenant--a singer by the name of Aurora Booth, who told them about a mysterious rushing wind that blasted through her small apartment. 

Another tenant, Jerry Ladewig, a dental assistant, claimed that a loud rapping would disturb her as she tried to fall asleep. Yet another tenant moved out of the tower room apartment after being harassed by several ghostly apparitions.