Crazed Murderer Captured in Turn-of-the-Century CV, Part 3

We’re finally wrapping up this insane story of a young murderer who was captured in turn-of-the-century CV. To briefly recap, Harry Clark, the wastrel son of a wealthy family, had devoted himself to a life of drugs, alcohol and crime. He murdered a Chinese laundryman for a few dollars, executed a wild escape from the police, and ended up on foot in CV. He spent a few hours at the Engelhard house (where Oakmont Woods is today). In a fit of drug-induced paranoia, he hid in the waste pit below their outhouse for several hours, literally in deep doo-doo. As evening came on, he dug his way out and stumbled into the underbrush, leaving a trail of human feces behind him.

After dark, he stopped at Charles Pleukharp’s house (perhaps where Whiting Woods is today). Pleukharp knew who Harry was; he had read the newspaper about his escape. Harry stood outside his door, covered in stinking excrement. Pleukharp said, “You appear to be in some trouble.” Harry knew he was had, but began a wild story about being a worker at a fertilizer factory who was lost. Pleukharp was having none of that so Harry fled back into the night.

After a night in the brush, Harry continued his smelly journey through the valley. Next stop was the home of G.W. Parks, who lived in a “red-roofed house” (perhaps tiled roof). We have to wonder at the generosity of these valley residents. Parks gave Harry breakfast and some clothes to change into as “the boy smelt pretty strong.” An understatement for sure.

Harry left Parks’ house and continued on foot up the valley, along what is today Honolulu Avenue, transitioning to Tujunga Canyon Boulevard. He was heading toward Tujunga, then known as Monte Vista. He reached the Phil Begue house, which was on that road almost at Foothill Boulevard.

A word about Phil Begue. The Begues came to the valley in 1882. The son, Phil Begue, made quite a name for himself as a lawman, as one of the first rangers of the San Gabriel Mountains, and as a prolific teller of tall tales. At this point in 1898 he served as a deputy constable.

Harry approached the house asking directions to the Monte Vista Hotel. Phil Begue had gotten word that Harry would be heading his way. After a brief confrontation with Begue, Harry admitted his identity. Begue arrested Harry and relieved him of the knife he had used to dig out of the outhouse vault. (Begue later boiled the knife in lye to try to get the stench off it.) Despite Harry’s change of clothes, he still reeked.

Begue borrowed a wagon from a neighbor to transport the prisoner back to LA. (The neighbor later complained that the wagon stank thereafter.)

The trial was spectacular! It made the OJ trial look like a case in small claims court. Harry was able to convince people that his roommate Joe Hunter did the killing, so Joe was put on trial first. After he was spectacularly acquitted, Harry went on trial for the murder. The Chinese community pooled its money to fund a high-end lawyer to oppose Harry’s rich family lawyer, which guaranteed a good show. A string of Harry’s favorite prostitutes were paraded as witnesses, each with a different story pitched to benefit them personally. A cellmate of Harry’s was brought out to finger him and the police bungled critical evidence. The gruesome story of retrieving the Chinese laundryman’s body and its decomposition was recounted in horrifying detail, along with accounts of Harry’s drug and alcohol binges. And, of course, Harry’s spectacular escape and his equally spectacular time in the Engelhard’s waste pit.

Harry probably should have hung but, since it was “only” a Chinese laundryman that he killed, so he got life instead. Racial prejudice ran deep. Just five years later, in 1905, we read that Harry’s rich family was trying to get the governor to pardon him. We don’t know if they were successful. I suspect they were. Sadly, back then, just like today, justice was sometimes a negotiable commodity.

  mike lawler