Strange Times 162: Jazz Keeps Peace
Fans of baseball, books and blunt objects will rejoice to know that the second edition of Deadball is now available in hardback!
Today we explore the soothing power of jazz and the daring nature of youth. Put your hands up on…
June 11, 1921
Eva Catherine Kaber confesses to being involved in the murder of her husband, Daniel F. Kaber, in 1919—saying that on the advice of her medium, she hired a pair of men to impersonate ghosts in order to frighten her husband into treating her better, only to find to her horror that they stabbed him to death instead.
A man named B. McCarver is arrested for threatening a customs agent with a pistol after his friend was detained for attempting to enter the country with an unlicensed pair of opera glasses.
Buddhist priest Sekizen Arai sails from Tokyo on a mission to study the customs and conditions of life in the United States.
19-year-old Virgil Decker is sentenced to life in prison after being found guilty of murdering a man who looked like him as part of an elaborate insurance plot.
The Weather: Cloudy and warmer today; Sunday probably showers and thunderstorms; south and west winds.
Truly, nothing binds people together quite as much as a shared hatred for extremely loud jazz.
With representatives of twenty-four nationalities on board, the Belvidere of the Cusulich Line arrived here yesterday, a floating Tower of Babel. Early in the voyage it became apparent that some of the elements were not going to mix well. The Greeks and Turks, whose countries have not yet resumed diplomatic relations, refused to eat at the same table. The Rumanians and Bulgarians viewed each other with contempt and taxed the imagination of Captain Fernando Ragusin to keep them apart.
But he found a way. And he seriously said it was jazz music, played frequently and loudly by the ship’s orchestra. The musical classics were put aside and only American popular airs were heard. The result soon showed, according to Captain Ragusin, and yesterday when the Belvidere docked there were no casualties to report. Greeks helped Turks with their baggage and vice versa. Rumanian mothers held Bulgarian babies while their mothers conferred with customs men.
Among the cabin passengers were Baron Bandberg von Bodinghausen, son of the former minister of war for the Kolchak Government in Russia; his sister and the latter’s husband. When the Kolchak government collapsed they fled to Constantinople and now they are going to make their home with relatives in California. Their passage, according to the Baron, cost them 1,760,000 rubles each, which at the rate of exchange that prevailed before the war would amount to $880,000 for each ticket.
We follow last month’s tale of Bronx Boy Bandits with this yarn about a Bold Boy Bandit who understood the secret to a perfect robbery is to steal from people who are too rich or drunk to care.
CHICAGO, June 10.—A quiet game of bridge in the residence of Jacob Loeb, former President and at present a member of the School Board, was interrupted tonight by an armed boy bandit. He came unheralded and left, after a profitable five minutes, at the request of Mr. Loeb.
Gathered in a front room of Mr. Loeb’s house were Joseph Rosenfield, a broker; Sydney Loeb, a real estate dealer and brother of the host; Fred Phillipson and Herbert A. Loeb. So engrossed were the players that they did not notice the entry of the youth. Above a weak chin reposed a homemade velvetine mask with ragged eye-holes. The intruder announced himself with the usual “Hands up!”
The players laughed. The bandit insisted, adding a cuss word or two by way of emphasis. Finally the hands went up.
The visitor requested Rosenfield to lay his wealth on the table. The others followed suit, Herbert Loeb contributing $100, Jacob $180, Sydney $100. Then a demand was made for jewelry.
“Now look here, Kid; you don’t want that watch,” said the host, when he saw his brother’s timepiece going into the kitty. “That’s a present from his mother.”
The watch was returned. Mr. Phillipson immediately took up the suggestion.
“That knife and chain that went with my chronometer is a gift from my wife,” he said.
“Well reach in and take it out,” returned the bandit.
By this time the proceedings were beginning to irk Jacob Loeb.
“Well now, young man,” he said, “you’ve made a pretty good haul. Suppose you get the hell out of here.”
“That’s fair,” observed the visitor, whereupon he gathered up his plunder, departed—and the game resumed.
