October 2006 – Page 5 – Half Moon Bay Memories

October 15, 2006

Adventure Aboard The Steamship Colombia In 1896, Part III

Photo: Actor Wilton Lackaye

Nationally known thespian Wilton Lackaye had awakened in his cabin aboard the steamship Colombia and was dressing for breakfast. Lackaye was a character actor, famous for developing the role o Svengali, the malevolent music teacher who turns an innocent, young milk-maid into a great diva under his hypnotic tutelage. He was en route to San Francisco to do his Svengali in the acclaimed play based on “Trilby”, George du Maurier’s popular romantic novel.

“I knew what had happened,” the 34-year-old Lackaye said, “but I didn’t feel the slightest bit alarmed. Neither did my wife. She knocked on the door and said the ship’s journey was at an end, but that there was no danger.”

While the shipwreck sorely inconvenienced all, there was no panic and no casualities among the 36 cabin and 26 steerage passengers. It was as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

Capt. Clark was philosophical. “As it was destined that I was to have an accident, I thank God that I had such a splendid lot of men and women on board. Why, all I did after I saw we were all right was to tell the ladies that their coffee was waiting beflow and every one of them went down.”

Lackaye seconded the captain’s opinion. “I declare,” he exclaimed, “I never saw such a lot of women in my life. There wasn’t a scream, not a faint, not a prayer, but to tell you the truth, I’ve seen more excitement at the ordinary fire drills at shipboard.”

While meals were served to the stranded passengers, the coffee importer Carlos Lastreto headed toward the stern. He heard the slap, slap, slap of oars on the water, and through the ghostly mist detected the shape of a man in a fishing boat.

Lastreto said, “I hailed the barely visible boatman through the fog.” The man in the boat was a Portuguese fisherman who claimed that he, too, was lost in the fog and he proceeded to climb aboard the Colombia.

After consulting with Capt. Clark, it was decided that Lastreto should accompany the fisherman back to shore and telegraph San Francisco from Pescadero with news of the wreck.

“Luck was with us,” Lastreto later said. As he looked back from the fishing craft, he realized the Colombia had narrowly missing crashing into Pigeon Point itself.

…To Be Continued…

October 14, 2006

Adventure Aboard The Steamship Colombia In 1896, Part II

By the time the new steamship Colombia (sailing from Central America to San Francisco) neared Pigeon Point lighthouse, south of Pescadero, the fog was thick–so soupy that it was hard to tell whether it was dawn or dusk.

A foghorn moaned regularly and thinking he knew the route well, the coffee importer Carlos B. Lastreto warne Capt. Clark, the steamer’s captain, that they were fast approaching Pigeon Point–although the fog made it impossible to actually see the lighthouse.

Evidently Capt. Clark thought otherwise. He was convinced the foghorn they heard came from another ship–and Clark briskly walked away, terminating their discussion.

Still sensing trouble, Lastreto wandered forward where he met an old acquaintance, a Pacific Mail Line representative. The two men did not speak but exchanged troubled glances as the heavy gray mist cut off all view of the sea.

When Lastreto heard the repeated distinct sound of the foghorn, this time closer yet, he tensed. The two men turned toward each other, once again without exchanging a word, then walked to opposite sides of the deck expecting the worst.

As the horn blew louder still, grim visions filled Lastreto’s mind. Perhaps seeking safety from what was to come, he headed back to his cabin.

Simultaneously, Capt. Clark realized that the Colombia was indeed in trouble–and that she was heading straight into the breakers.

“Reverse engines,” shouted the captain.

When Lastreto opened the door of his first-class cabin, there was a terrific lurch and the sound of metal grinding on rock as he was flung against the doorjamb.

It was 8 a.m. on July 14, 1896 when the Colombia’s bow creaked to its final resting place on the rocky bottom–300 yards from the beach. The Colombia had become wedged between teh rocky claws of a reef half a mile from the Pigeon Point lighthouse.

From the beach, the steamers appeared to be lying at anchor but upon closer inspection, a serrated tear had ripped across the bow–and seawater flooded through the open gash and into the forward compartment.

An avalanche of small limes tumbled out of barrels and floated toward shore.

…To Be Continued…

Photo: courtesy San Mateo County History Museum. Please visit the new galleries at the museum located in the historic Redwood City Courthouse.

October 13, 2006

Adventure Aboard The Steamship Colombia In 1896, Part I

Coffee importer Carlos B. Lastreto frequently commuted aboard Pacific Mail steamers between Central America and San Francisco, all safe, smooth passages. But in the summer of 1896 that changed as the voyage on the new steamer Colombia turned into an odyssey for the future Atherton resident.

Even before Lastreto arrived at the dock in Guatemala to board the Colombia, the prominent 29-year-old San Francisco businessman experienced a dose of bad luck. The evening prior to the voyage his wharfside hotel burst into flames. His clothing, documents and cash burned in the conflagration and spectators suppressed their smiles as the young American fled in his pajamas.

Fortunately, Lastreto had checked a small trunk with the steamship company. Neatly packed in the suitcase were a pair of shiny dancing pumps and a dress suit. During the early part of the sea adventure that awaited him, this formal outfit was all he had to wear, drawing gentle jibes from his fellow passengers and the Colombia’s friendly crew. Lastreto was becoming accustomed to sidelong glances.

From the beginning the weather inhibited the Colombia’s maiden voyage as the journey was immersed in a thick blanket of fog from Cape St. Lucas, at the southern tip of Baja California, until the voyage’s unexpected conclusion. The water and sky seamlessly blended into a wall and vision was limited to 100 yards as the Colombia inched up the California coast to San Francisco, its scheduled destination.

By the time the Colombia neared Pigeon Point lighthouse, south of Pescadero, it was almost 8 a.m. but without a clock it was hard to tell the precise time of day.

…To be continued…

October 11, 2006

Pescadero 1924: Miss Evelyn Voge Loved To Type

â8%/(-*?)(:@1/2!!xx

Did you ever hit ârâ? when you aimed at k?

And mixed-up your copy
With a double jj?

Made a capital M when it
Should have been small.

And ruined the meaning
With âbellâ instead of âballââ¦.â?

Poem from Pescadero Union High School 1924 Yearbook: Carnelian and Blue

Pescadero Union High School student Evelyn Voge never punched an ârâ? when she aimed for a âkâ?.

âEvâ? was the perfect typist, a real âspeed demonâ? who set out to prove she could click-clack her way to first place at the National Typewriting Contest held at the San Francisco Business Show in April 1924.

Typing was a significant skill. A proficient typist could aspire to be a secretary, a glamorous ambition in this new age of working women.

Given Evelyn Vogeâs superior typing skills, it was no surprise that she became the editor of Pescadero Highâs first âCarnelian and Blueâ? yearbook, named for the schoolâs colors.

She surely organized the yearbook that was artfully bound in red construction paper. Browsing through a surviving copy of âCarnellian and Blueâ? is like being transported back to Pescadero 1924.

The 90-plus pages are crammed with art, graphics, excellent black-and-white photos, humor and exuberance.

To see Evelyn Voge walking to school she appeared as a stylish young flapperâbut when she sat down to punch the keys on an Underwood typewriter, she was transformed into a vrtuoso.

On a 60-second typing test, Ev scored an astounding 79-words per minute, earning the admiration of all her classmates and teachers.

Due to Evelynâs influence, typewriting became one of the schoolâs most popular classes with may of the students enrolling. When the day came for Evelyn to compete with 100 other first-rate typists at the contest in San Francisco, she was escorted by her friends to the bus stop in front of the local hotel owned by Dr. Thompson, the county supervisor from Pescadero.

As the bus carrying the young aspirant rolled away in a puff of exhaust fumes, the mood among Evâs friends was wistful.

The soft-spoken Catherine âCassieâ? Bentley and the chatty Elsie Blomquist lingered on the hotel porch wishing they could have accompanied Evelyn on her exciting trip to the big city. Alas, their typing skills were mediocre and the girls glumly walked back to the school.

Note: Cassie and Elsie had their own talents. They were mischief-makers of the first order, later involved in an amusing scandal at the school when they hid the soccer teamâs street clothes.

Evelyn Voge, Pescadero Highâs legendary typist performed admirably at the contest in San Francisco. Ev finished in the top ten, the only candidate from San Mateo County to do so.

The Underwood Typing Company awarded her a bronze medal. In my 1924 copy of the âCarnelian and Blueâ? yearbook thereâs an amusing caricature of Evelyn Voge wearing her flapper era cloche frantically pounding at the keys of her typewriter.

Evelyn Vogeâs true legacy was a role model to many of the other students who resulved to emulate her so that, they, too, could one day make the exciting trip to the big typing contest in San Francisco.

October 10, 2006

Remembering A Great Summer Job

When I was in high school, during the summers, I worked in the Reservation Department of the California State Auto Assn at 150 Van Ness in San Francisco.

The Reservation Dept was located on the ground floor across from Maps.

You might recall that it was a grand building with endless ceilings and the kind of dark brown furniture that only looked better with age.

My boss was Alan O’Neal–Mr. O’Neal–immaculately dressed in a beautiful suit and tie every day–amusing in a sophisticated way with perfect manners. Genuinely charming. An older gay man who lived with his partner in Marin County–I later learned.

He reminded me of Leo G. Carroll, the actor who played the role of the dapper banker, Cosmo Topper, in the 1950s series by the same name.

On other floors, shut away from the public, were early versions of computer geeks (don’t forget this was the 1960s) and I wondered what it was they were doing. All I heard was something about programming and even in those early days they were different from the rest of us. They also earned a lot more money.

Mr. O’Neal’s full-time staff, all women, answered the phones and found suitable motel and hotel rooms for CSAA members–all over the country.

Me–a summer intern, typed the reservations up on a manual typewriter in triplicate. (My dad gave me his old Smith-Corona when I was a kid–the one he lugged from Shanghai to San Francisco– and as I made up stories in my head, I learned to type them. I really enjoyed typing and could punch the letters fast…really fast).

I was so fast at typing up “confirmed” reservations that I had time left over –so I was given an added responsibility. I was put in charge of issuing International Driving Permits. At the time anyone who wanted to drive in Europe needed this special permit (one time it was one of the Jefferson Airplane musicians–I remember writing their address which was a “mansion” on Fulton in the city’s Richmond District, across the street from Golden Gate Park).

I earned the great affection of the clients because I got their permits done so quickly, on the spot, in fact.

But what I’ll always “keep” is my memory of Mr. O’Neal–a bon vivant from an earlier genteel time.

October 10, 2006

Did I tell you that I was reading and just finishing it up when the controversial, activist Russian reporter (critical of Chechnya policy) Anna Politkovskaya was murdered on Putin’s birthday, or so an obituary said. She was shot, execution-style. I remembered she was mentioned in the book and looked her name up in the index–the authors said that Politkovskaya, the mother of three children, had received death threats, calling her a friend of the CIA and that she would pay.

October 9, 2006

He Lived In Moss Beach: December 1977: “Jimmy The Weasel” Fratianno Arrested In

Connection With Two Gang Murders In Ohio

“James T. Fratianno, who resided at —— in Moss Beach, was arrested in San Francisco on Monday by the FBI in connection with two Ohio gangland killings. He is known as ‘Jimmy the Weasel’.

“Fratianno gave no resistance and was brought handcuffed into the FBI office in the federal building. He was one of eight persons named in the complaint filed earlier in the day in the eastern city.

“‘The Weasel’ was out on bail for nearly two weeks. He gave himself up to the FBI on the day before Thanksgiving after charges were announced aainst him for alleged crimes in the L.A. area.

“A federal racketeering criminal complaint alleges one charge of murder and conspiracy to commit two murders.

“Roy McKinnon, special FBI agent in charge, said a .22 caliber revolver was found in a secret under-the-seat compartment of Fratianno’s car. He had a prearranged meeting at the motel but was alone when arrested.

“McKinnon said the complaint alleges Fratianno was ‘an arranger in the murder of two men in the Cleveland area’.

“The agent said that the slayings were ‘gangland motivated: a struggle for power’ in Ohio. U.S. Magistrate Richard Goldsmith set his bail at $50,000.

“Fratianno, who moved to San Francisco last Friday, said he will post bail and go back to his hometown of Cleveland for a hearing set for defendants Friday.

“‘I wasn’t an actual participant in whatever happened. I wasn’t even there,’ said Fratianno. ‘I understand there is word I talked to someone. I can prove I was not there at the time’.

“The FBI affidavit identified one victim as John Nardi, a Cosa Nostra member from Cleveland and the other as Danny Greene, head of the ‘Irish mob’ in the area. Nardi was killed last May 17 by a bomb in a vehicle next to his car, while Greene died when a remote control bomb was detonated in his car on Oct. 6

“The FBI affidavit alleged that Raymond Ferritto, charged with participating in the Greene murder, told them he was a long time associate ‘of La Cosa Nostra member James ‘The Weasel’ Fratianno, who resides in California.

HMB Review, December 1977

I’ll have more on “Jimmy the Weasel” later….

October 9, 2006

Speaking of “The Departed”…

In Reno, in a brand-new movie theater overlooking the beautiful Truckee River, we saw âThe Departedâ?–starring âJackâ? Nicholson-Matt Damon-Leonardo DicaprioâMark Wahlberg & Alec Baldwin.

All juicy rolesâand very, very–even ridiculously funny.

I canât spoil the terrific script by revealing anythingâyou must see it. âJackâsâ? interpretation of Frank Costello, a Massachusetts mafia chieftain, who specializes in political connections to protect his crime interests- -well,the scene with blood on his hands, is worth the price of the ticket…

At times, the fast-moving dialogue made me think of the brilliant Aaron Sorkinâs witty work (of West Wing fame, now Studio 60)– gone utterly mad and off the map.

And speaking of âWest Wingâ?, Martin Sheen, who played the president in that riveting series, also appears in âThe Departedâ? as the head of an undercover law enforcement office. He’s a civil, soft spoken avuncular type–but I couldn’t help thinking his alter ego was portrayed by actor Mark Wahlberg who stood at Sheen’s left side spewing gutter language.

(This movie’s not for the kiddies).

Is innovative director Martin Scorsese telling us that, these days, in real life, no one is loyal, no one is committed to real ideals and “everybody’s a rat”?

Produced by Brad Pitt and Brad Grey, a fascinating combination of Hollywood & HBO talent.

(Photos: Downtown Reno and scene along the Truckee River near the new Century Movie Theater)

October 8, 2006

Sybil & Louis at Tunitas Creek: (Short Version) Conclusion

Not only was the artisit Sybil Easterday’s home at Tunitas Creek, the end of the Ocean Shore Railroad’s line– but her husband Louis ran the rustic saloon there. Louis, whose drinking was anything but recreational, often barricaded himself in his office at the back of the saloon. During these serious drinking bouts, he surrounded himself with “firearms from a complete arsenal,” making it clear he wanted to be left alone.

Until her marriage, Sybil’s life seemed to have been orderly. The house, landscaped with pretty flowers and shrubs, had been built with money from her commissions. It stood in a secluded spot beneath a bridge. Valuable antiques, handcarved furniture, as well as statuettes and paintings, examples of her work, filled the rooms.

But suddenly her life took a dark turn.

Just before Valentine’s Day in 1916, Sybil, now 40, faced a horrible domestic crisis. She later recounted that the 33-year-old Louis had been drinking heavily as usual and had shut himself up in his office–but this time he did not respond to her pleas to open the door.

Some locals thought it unusual that instead of calling the police, she summoned Dr. Clarence V. Thompson. A county supervisor, Dr. Thompson resided with his wife in a big two-story house in Pescadero. He had set up a “hospital” in his home but few if any patients were admitted there.

When Dr. Thompson arrived at Tunitas Creek, he found the doors of the saloon broken in and rushed to the back office.

Before him, Sybil’s husband Louis was slumped over, a gaping wound in his chest. A double-barreled shotgun lay on the floor.

The official inquest called it a suicide.

After Louis’s death, Sybil and Flora, her invalid mother, pursued a reclusive life. Sybil, who died in 1961, was seldom seen but there were those who remember the vision of a lonely figure wandering around her property at Tunitas Creek, a rifle in her hands.

[Examples of Sybil Easterday’s sculpture can be viewed at the San Mateo County History Museum in Redwood City–but the artist’s eccentricity has provided her most enduring legacy.]

Photo: Sybil Easterday, courtesy San Mateo County History Museum