There’s another echo from the town of fogs and poodle dogs that doesn’t ring of Robbinsdale.
Just shortly after that infamous Howard Street Gangsters affair the police raided a “Love Nest.” It seems that, regardless of race, creed or color (or sex) you indulged your favorite diversion while in the “Love Nest” with your neighbor. Inasmuch as minors were involved, there was another “Roman holiday” expected for those who would crowd the prisons. Just when they were getting ready to point thumbs down, the defense asked for continuance. “And on what grounds?” demanded the prosecution.
“So that we may bring witnesses—women of high social rank in the city—to testify, by way of the indisputable means of photographs, that my clients are nothing more than artistic photographers, specializing in taking photos of women in the nude.”
It is a rather singular fact that the continuance was granted, that little more was heard about the case and that instead of being sent to San Quentin for fifty years the defendants got off with light sentences.
Asked how they could account for these women posing in the Altogether, one of the “Artistic photographers” replied, “Well, every woman seems to feel that she has the form divine.”
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Running across old friends is one of the best things you do on these jamborees. Here in ’Frisco I found two old Minneapolis Journal men holding down important jobs—Jim Callahan, now business manager of the Examiner and generally considered one of Hearst’s “right hand” men, and Chris Helin, manager of The Examiner’s Automobile Department. I am sorry to say that they are both back sliders and wouldn’t trade the nip of the peninsula for half of Minnesota.
Funny how these fellows go loco when they reach California. Really, folks, you wouldn’t expect your friends to try to sell you real estate, would you?
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