Giants’ Butler in hellish dilemma
Here’s a look at the past. Items have been culled from The Chronicle’s archives of 25, 50, 75 and 100 years ago.
1990
May 8: Giants outfielder Brett Butler, who was quoted in the Oakland Tribune as saying Satan was testing the Christians on the Giants, said yesterday he had been “misquoted.” Beneath a headline reading “Giants’ Losing Ways. The Devil Made Them Do It,” Butler was quoted as saying, “I think Satan attacks those who are strong in the Lord” and that the Devil’s hand can be seen in the number of injuries the Giants have suffered, the leukemia contracted by the son of relief pitcher Steve Bedrosian and the October 17 earthquake that delayed the World Series. After the story was widely reported, Butler was clearly angry and refuted the headline and the story. “I meant as a whole, not just the ball club,” he said of Satan’s interference. “I believe that Satan fires on everybody in the world everyday. I was making a comment that the Lord brought warriors together — in a phrase; you’ve got a lot of Christians on this club. With Bedrock’s son and all these injuries, I meant there must be a toll going on, there must be something going on here.”
— Ray Ratto
1965
May 7: San Francisco’s first trial on North Beach bosom-baring yesterday got down to what defense attorney Patrick Hallinan called “The nitty-gritty.” That is, how much breast can a woman bare before her conduct is considered “lewd and dissolute.” Hallinan commenced by having defendant Yvonne d’Anger rise and remove the flowing scarf she wore above her form-fitting baby blue knit suit. “Now,” he asked Officer George Cathrell, one of the April 23 raiders of the Off Broadway, “do you consider that lewd and dissolute?” And he gestured in a general direction toward the impressive décolletage Miss d’Anger’s low-cut dress and physical attributes conspired to create. Witness Cathrell, a bear-like man with ruggedly handsome features, wriggled uncomfortably in his chair and murmured, “No, no I wouldn’t.” Hallinan then moved to the courtroom blackboard. With orange chalk, he drew on the green slate the profile of a woman’s upper anatomy then lightly shaded in a narrow bikini top. “Is this obscene?” he asked. “No, it is not,” Cathrell responded. Taking an eraser, Hallinan began to pare down the bikini, stopping occasionally to repeat his question and getting in response each time another “no.” When the bikini resembled a one-word bumper strip, Judge Friedman intervened sharply: “If the nipples of a woman were exposed, that was the basis of the arrest, was it not?” “Yes sir,” Cathrell replied quietly, and the issue stood defined in the record.
— Rob Robertson
1940
May 8: No Pulitzer prize for William Saroyan, No. 1 bad boy of American literature. Yesterday he turned down the award and the $1000 flat. But New York sources said the $1000 check will go to the San Franciscan for his waterfront saloon drama, “Time of Your Life,” whether he likes it or not. In Fresno, Saroyan came out of his hideout long enough to cast his shadow. “Weeks ago I publicly stated that I would reject the award. Such awards vitiate and embarrass art at its very source.” Saroyan, who took up play-writing two years ago after a successful sortie in the short story field, says his play “is great.” He adds that it is “perhaps the greatest.” But he is opposed in principle to awards in the arts, especially to “official patronage of the arts by Governments and organizations.” If the minions of the postal department catch up with him, well, “there’s a lot of young writers out there I could give it to. That,” said Saroyan, “would buy a lot of typewriter ribbon and paper.”
1915
May 8: The liner Lusitania lies at the bottom of the sea off the Irish coast. She was sunk by a German submarine, which sent two torpedoes crashing into her side. The liner had sailed in the face of a warning, published on the day of her departure by the German Embassy, which stated that travelers intending to embark on British ships did so at the risk of the ships being destroyed. Reports from Washington indicate that it was privately known that the Lusitania would be torpedoed at the first opportunity. This afternoon anxious relatives of the Lusitania’s passengers besieged the offices of the Cunard line, and the scene recalled those of the White Star line when the Titanic sank three years ago. Among the passengers in the doomed liner were Mrs. Florence Gray, daughter of T. Healey, a dairyman of 1422 Divisadero Street, and her four-year-old son Stuart. “We haven’t had any word from Florence,” said Mr. Healey, “and I feel sure that her husband who is in New York has heard nothing either. For knowing how anxious I am, I know he would immediately wire me if he heard any word from my daughter and grandchild.” A Cunard agent stated that the total number of souls aboard the Lusitania was 2160. The number of known survivors is 658.