Crazed Murderer Captured in Turn-of-the-Century CV, Part 1

In 1898 a bizarre murder trial took place that was absolutely spectacular. It had everything that a scandalous crime requires: sex, drugs, alcohol, betrayal, wild chases, beautiful prostitutes, racially tinged murder, police bungling and jailhouse snitches. It was the trial of the decade, and was so confusing and filled with lies it took me a long time to make sense of it. What ties it to our valley is that the murderer was captured here, after some really unusual and bizarre subterfuge.

A young man, Harry Clark, was the wastrel son of a wealthy family. He was very handsome, very charming, but had a congenital hip problem that, in his mind, prevented him from working. He spent his days drinking, taking opium (a habit he picked up in prison), consorting with prostitutes, and stealing to keep all those bad habits afloat. He was friends with Joe Hunter who had a house on San Fernando Road in South Glendale, an area then known as Tropico. He let Harry Clark stay with him as a drinking buddy and as a source of pretty girls and prostitutes – whom Harry attracted like bees to honey. Harry was currently seeing a dark-haired beauty named Letticia Allec. She spent most nights with Harry but, truth be told, she spent nights with whomever had the money. When Harry ran out of money, Letticia left, telling him she’d come back when he could come up with some cash.

Harry was upset about this and, being unstable and impulsive plus drunk or high most of the time, looked for the first opportunity to steal. That opportunity came that afternoon when the Chinese laundryman, Wong Sing Hay, pulled up in his wagon with Harry and Joe’s clean laundry. Harry figured the laundryman would have cash on him from other customers. After the laundryman entered the house to get paid for the laundry, Harry took a double-barreled shotgun he had borrowed from his neighbor and blew out the brains of the unsuspecting Wong Sing Hay. Harry searched the body and the wagon, but found only a few dollars. He dragged the laundryman’s dead body into the crawlspace under the house, wiped up the blood in the house, and unconcernedly went back to drinking.

But neighbors heard the shots (although not unusual in early LA) and noticed that the wagon of the Chinese laundryman sat unattended for several hours until the horse finally wandered off. The sheriff was called to come and investigate. He and a deputy came to the house in a wagon and inquired as to the whereabouts of the Chinese laundryman. Although Harry professed ignorance of the laundryman’s location, the sheriff sensed something was wrong.

He asked Harry to accompany him on the wagon to the laundry in Garvanza (now Highland Park near the Arroyo Seco). Once they arrived there, the sheriff went inside the laundry while the deputy waited in the wagon with Harry. The laundry workers confirmed that the Chinese laundryman was missing. At that point the deputy came inside to assist the sheriff, leaving the impulsive Harry alone in the wagon.

As soon as the deputy stepped inside the laundry, Harry grabbed the reins of the wagon and tore off down the Arroyo toward LA, the sheriff and deputy in pursuit on foot. It didn’t take long for half-crazed Harry to lose control of the wagon. At a full gallop, the wagon left the road and veered into the rocky brush. The wagon started to come apart as it bounced along and Harry bailed out. He hid in the sagebrush so that the sheriff couldn’t find him. He then took a trolley back to a bar in LA.

Still on a bizarre tangent, Harry called from there for a bicycle messenger. When the boy arrived, Harry sent him across the street on a made-up errand. Harry grabbed the messenger’s bicycle and began pedaling furiously up San Fernando Road, up Verdugo Road through the Verdugo Canyon, and into the Crescenta Valley.

Next week, I’ll continue Harry’s weird journey through the valley and his capture by one of CV’s pioneers.

  mike lawler