Addicted To War

It Has Been 10 Years Since I Filmed This Updated Book Launch

And The U.S. Is Still Addicted To Endless War.  Will Trump Change This?

Joel Andreas, author and illustrator of the acclaimed graphic novel “Addicted To War” spoke at the Peace Center on January 24, 2015, at the launch party of the new updated version of his book. Frank Dorrel, the publisher, also spoke and introduced Mr. Andreas. Video filmed by Paul Hunt and Julie Webster.  For more information, www.addictedtowar.com.

“Down That Lonely Road”

Young Woman Whose Life Ebbed as She Wrote “Thirteen Cigarettes” Left Empty Purse.  Funeral Plans Pending

 “Look down – look down that lonely road, the hacks all dead in line:  Some give a nickel, some give a dime, to bury dis po’ body o’ mine!”

All ready for the dismal ritual of burial lies the body of the author of those lines – ready for the trip down the lonely road.

And the money – it must come from some place other than the pitifully empty purse that was found in the little attic room at 1625 K street beside the body of the author yesterday morning.

All that is mortal of Miss Draper Gill, romantic booklover, who finally found that in poverty the body shackles the mind to the humdrum of this world, and who broke the shackles with an open gas jet, lies in the Tabler Funeral Home, 828 M street, while friends and relatives busy themselves with the arrangements for her funeral. The arrangements have not been completed.

                                        Lines Written as Life Ebbs.

Miss Gill, whose closest friends were the fanciful figures from between the leaves of books, wrote the above lines as the close of her life, as her final efforts to slash the shackles of poverty that took her too often from her friends of the phantom book world into the every day pursuits of livelihood.

With her was found her story, eloquent in its pathos, telling a tale of “Thirteen Cigarettes,” the “coffin nails” with which she sealed the lid upon the shackling body and with which she hoped to free her intangible self to stay always with her fanciful friends of fiction.

Even as she died in the shabby little room some time yesterday morning, she moved with her fiction friends, this last time as a fictional character of her own creation, as “Carol,” a girl like herself, strangely, though, even in the tale, coming every now and then into the world of real men and women and leaving the fancy world behind.

                                         Left Only Few Pennies

The story she ended with the two lines above, she wrote as gas filled her room and as, all unmindful of the danger to her plans her smoking might constitute, she inhaled puff after puff from the fatal number of cigarettes. As she took the last puff from the last cigarette she laid her story aside, and lay down quietly to await the final shattering of her shackles to this world.

She left only a few pennies, and there is none coming to her from her last place of employment, the book shop of the Woodward & Lothrop department store, for she had on Saturday, the last day she worked, drawn in advance the little pay she had coming to her.
                                         Story of Thirteen Cigarettes

Eloquently, the story of “Carol” and the “Thirteen Cigarettes” tells of the death of all that was mortal of Draper Gill. It follows:

“October 21, 1930
“Thirteen cigarettes.
“The bare attic room bore signs of former occupancy, but none of them sufficiently interesting to fire any one’s imagination. Discolored, once-white walls, the plaster chipped and cracked, and a few nail holes were about all. Situated on the fourth and top floor and partitioned off rom the unfinished attic proper, the room had probably been occupied by careless servants.
“Carol lay prone on a cot in this same room, ostensibly reading, but stopping at intervals to rehearse what had become a very futile philosophy of life – her life.

                                         Termed Coffin Nails

“Just the other day she had read a story entitled ‘Something Will Happen,’ but nothing had in the story. Carol had been more fortunate in the past, and the evil spells of desirable circumstances have always been broken sooner or later. Now it was different. She was 26 and, voluntarily or involuntarily, she herself had closed all avenues of escape. The 13 cigarettes indeed represented the oft-bruited coffin nails. When they were gone and when the ash tray held the thirteenth stub and contributing ashes, Carol’s doom would have been knelled, silently but significantly.”Reviewing events, recent and long past, was not very comforting. Always she had made wrong moves and suffered from the unexpected results. A childish spontaneity had been half smothered during adolescence and thoughtless selfishness coupled with an indefinable weakness of purpose were growing up in its place. Carol recognized the change dolefully and helplessly, and so did very little to remedy it.

“Hovering on the brink of poverty soon loses all semblance of the picturesque and grows very irksome indeed, particularly when expensive tastes and a flair for spending complicates matters. Carol, –at the moment had a few coppers in her purse and nothing really to look forward to except the impossible settlement of large and small debts. That financial status might have ‘roused the fighting blood’ of a huskier vitality, but served only to overwhelm poor Carol quite completely.

                                         Humdrum Routine

“If one demands the pleasantly unexpected of life, and likes the knack of arranging for joyous events, only to find a series of whirlpools circling rapidly from the crest to the depths, it is disappointing, to say the least, and even trifling pleasures can be obtained only through persistent loyalty in the execution of humdrum routine duties, nine-to-six sort of existence, it rouses a perverse in nature, such as Carol’s, and a black mood of rebellion conspires to blind utterly even the instinct of self-preservation.

“Inspiration was necessary to Carol, as much so as the contant goading indispensable in getting beasts of burden to their destinations. She learned to con it from many sources, books and strangers and abstract beauty. The supply gone, she was like a mechanical toy with no one to wind it – powerless.

” ‘Lazy–I fear I’m incurably lazy -quite worthless in fact,’ she mused. It was too bad, for people really expected great things of her, until she, too, was sometimes convinced, but nothing came of it -only this sorry end, that approached as each tobacco-filled cylinder dwindled into gray ash and blackened stub.

“She had done reasoning out of the possible effects of heredity, environment, individuality and incalculable circumstance – they were so hopelessly tangled in a knotted mesh, an eminent psychologist might well hesitate to unravel the skeins.

” ‘Too much purple and yellow in the color scheme,’ was Carol’s whimsical verdict, upon visualizing an untidy basket of interwoven threads of varying hues.

” ‘I must be strong in going,’ was uppermost in her mind. ‘I have gained nothing by lingering so long-and only done others harm-caused them inconvenience, worried the few who have shown concern. Lacking strength for noble deeds, this will offer part compensation, a forfelt to subsequent years that promised similar cycles of non-achievement.’

                                         Voices Farewell

“Upon second thought, ‘If I should fail—‘ but that was too terrible to contemplate. She wouldn’t consider it.
“Farewell to all the ineffectual dreams and aspirations, beautiful and impracticable, glorious and non-existent.
“Farewell to friends – she had only been a burden to them, often stupid and misunderstanding their motives, not troubling to see from their point of view.
“Farewell to relatives, to whom most of her actions had ben inexplicable.
“Farewell to her brother, whose esteem was unwavering, who needed her support, and whom she was leaving.
“Farewell to them all – no remorse now – only regret.
“How slowly they were going. There were eight of them left to mark the passage of time and a few details crying out for attention – they would fill the last moments.

“How cheery the clock sounded, as though pleased with itself for playing so important a part in reckoning Carol’s oblivion. ‘It will not have long to wait, Carol. I wonder?’ was the natural query.

” ‘Perhaps I am writing drivel and silence were better, but I want them to know, even the bit that will be comprehended-it will be of little moment and soon forgotten, anyhow,’ she ended, wondering if that were true.

“The dog-eared phrase: ‘Survival of the fittest,’ Ah, but I do not belong in their ranks, for I have failed completely and they will go on. I wish them well.

    ” ‘Look down–look down, that lonely road, the hacks all dead in line:
“Some give a nickel: some give a dime, to bury dis po’ body o’ mine!'”

Miss Gill’s grandfather, Delancey Gill, is an illustrator with the Smithsonian Institution, and lives at the Rutland Courts Apartments, Seventeenth street and Riggs place. Her uncle, William H. Gill, an engineer with offices in the Transportation Building, Seventeenth and H streets, is handling the arrangements for the funeral.

Editor’s Note:  This article appeared in the Washington D.C. Evening Star on October 23, 1930.  The writer of this interesting obituary is unknown.  The deceased young woman, a grand-daughter of the famous Delancey Gill, worked as a low-paid clerk in the book department of a large department store.  Note today the struggles of workers at amazon.com and other places for a “living” wage.  Too many are still working at what could termed a “death” wage, as illustrated by this poor soul who was penniless and took her own life.

Volume 2 of Australian Bookman’s Hollywood Odyssey Now Available

Noel Hart’s Second Volume of Working in the Used Book Business in Los Angeles Has Just Published!

This is the cover for the new volume.

His book: “And That Was Only the Front Counter Too” is now available.  This is Noel Hart’s second volume of fun and adventures at Cosmopolitan Book Shop in the shoddy East end of the once fabulous Melrose Avenue/Hollywood corridor.  Eli Goodman’s shop was more than just a bookstore:  it was it’s own 7 day a week circus, with insane bedlam, and enough eccentric behavior to fill 30 psychology dictionaries..  And that was just the owner!  The customers, the transients, the Trannies, the UCLA philosophers, the writers, the readers, the Hollywood goof-balls, the celebrities, and even the Mayor all found their way to Cosmopolitan Books.

And for years a young naive fellow from Australia, who somehow was accidently hired to work in the midst of the Avant Garde Absurdist Capitol of Melrose Fantasy-Land, kept secret diaries and notes documenting his disturbing but often hilarious trip following Eli Goodman and his Associates down the doomed literary Rabbit Hole.

Cosmopolitan Book Shop is no more.  Eli Goodman has passed on, during his mid 90s, to that great seat of esoteric knowledge in the etherial world.  Only memories remain.  There are a few scattered among the faux history on this website and three books on the sordid, screwy, hilarious  goings-on at Cosmopolitan.  Arnold Herr started it all with his riotous account of his years working with Goodman.  His book, published in 2016, “The Wild Ride of a Hollywood Bookseller,” is out of print and used copies, when available, sell for $80-$100.

Noel Hart followed up with “And That Was Only the Front Counter,” published in 2023.  It is an encyclopedic romp of working at Cosmopolitan.  It is a massive 451 pages of Noel Hart’s memories:  goofy customers, hilarious incidents, the always entertaining and eccentric Eli Goodman, with many touching moments and introspection from Eli, who was at his core a romantic book lover, a self-made man, a philosopher, a rogue psychologist, an icon of thriftiness, an avid alley scrounger, a glorious pack rat and the uncrowned King of the East Melrose Storefront housing the world’s most eclectic jumble of books, both new and shiny or scorched by fire that could have only been assembled in Hollywood, curated, and at times we suspect, actually eaten by ravenous drug addicted homeless folks who in their hallucinatory state somehow mistook the bookstore for a free food restaurant.

And now, to wrap up 2024, Mr. Hart has released volume two of “And That Was Only The Front Counter Too.”  This is also 451 pages.  It is another bombshell of hilarity.  Much more on Eli and his brother Ezra, some great nostalgic photos, and page after page of book stories.  This volume, like the first, lends itself to be opened almost anywhere and be endlessly entertained.  The good news is that both of Noel Hart’s books are available NOW.  Get them quick.  They are both published in Australia and the shipping is expensive but you will never regret obtaining both volumes.  Just think of the past books that you have been disappointed with.  These will entertain you forever, especially if you are a senior, because by the time you get through the total of eight hundred pages, if your memory is fading a bit you can then start all over again on page 1 and relive the humor, enjoyment, and nostalgic moments of working at Hollywood’s last big bookstore.

One of my favorite sections of the latest volume is called “What Was I Saying?  The Quotable Eli.”  It is itself 17 pages of classic quotes from Eli.  I’m going to share just a few with you here:

“All this talk about too much waste in the world, too much garbage. I’m doing my bit for the planet, I haven’t thrown out anything in decades.”

“I used to think I’d like to have more books.  Now I think I’d like to have less.  On second thought, I think I prefer my first thought.”

“I don’t want to be content then I’d have nothing to complain about.”

“My relationships with women have been such a mess that I should’ve been looking for a cleaning lady.”

“My eyesight is so bad that my optometrist gave up, he said to look somewhere else.”

“Too many books, not enough time?  I’ve had time. I’d say too many books, not enough space.”

Here’s a few photos included in the new volume.  Happy reading folks!

The Last Bookstore Now Open in NOHO

Beautiful New Store Now Open at Riverside and Lankershim

Here’s a few random photos from their new store.  Alongside the books are various artifacts from the landlord’s collection of architectural items.  Happy book scouting, we need more second hand bookshops to sop up the stagging amount of books available from the publishers. There are now two large bookstores in the area, the other being Iliad Bookshop also in NOHO, 5500 Cahuenga.  The Iliad nicely remodeled after the pandemic and arson fire.

Last Hours.

4437 Lankershim, just south of Riverside Dr. NOHO.

The books are piling in.

 

Last Bookstore to Open in NOHO

Last Bookstore Moving Their On-line Warehouse to NOHO

by Paul Hunt

This will be their new location in a few months, the currant occupant is having a sale of furniture and decorative items.  The Last Bookstore said they could not renew their lease on their Northridge On-line warehouse, so decided to move and open a retail location.

The new location will be at 4437 Lankersheim Blvd., in NOHO, corner of Landale.  It will probably be several months before they can get occupancy and then move in thousands of books.  The good news is that it is not far from the NOHO Metro Station and there is a bus stop on the corner.  There are restaurants in the area, and a Coffee Bean & Leaf across the street.  There is plenty of parking in the area, and it is an attractive location.  They will continue to operate their store in downtown Los Angeles.

 

Mysterious Disappearance of Charles T. Sprading Solved

Mysterious Disappearance of Charles T. Sprading Solved

“I may be one of the last living persons to have seen him alive in the late 1950s”

by Paul Hunt (Reprinted from June 2012 from NowWeKnow.org)

Charles T. Sprading was one of the greatest intellectuals of the 20th Century. He was a man who championed liberty and fought tyranny all of his life. He vanished around 1959, and many people over the years wondered what happened to him.

My dad was a great friend of Mr. Sprading. Although my father was a technical writer, he was very interested in many other subjects, one of which was rationalism, or free-thought as it is sometimes called. When I was a kid I spent most Saturdays riding around in our old car, visiting dad’s friends. Most of them were quite elderly. Two of the rationalists I remember were Sadie Cook and Charles T. Sprading. I was taught from a young age to listen, not speak. “Children should be seen and not heard,” was the refrain I remember hearing on a weekly basis. These visits to Cook, Sprading, and others opened my eyes to things in philosophy and history at a very early age. Listening to elders talk was serious in my family, so I grew up respecting the views of those who were in very advanced years.

I believe Sadie Cook was the secretary for one of the rationalist societies, and her small house was packed with papers, correspondence, books and magazines. I heard about atheism on Saturdays, then on Sunday it was off to church, for my mother’s side of the family was somewhat religious. I used to ask my dad why I had to go to church if there was no God, and he would answer that I would go to church until I was 18, and then make up my own mind about God. He never said God did not exist, I just picked up that from his discussions with Sadie Cook and others.

Mr. Sprading was a delight to visit, he was a wonderful man, an advanced age, very thin and fragile. He was living in a ramshackle garage in East Los Angeles, I believe it was behind a house on Folsom St., off Brooklyn, in the older section of the city. His living quarters were very sparse, a cot, a sink, some crates and old shelves that contained his remaining books and papers. Looking back, it is more than sad, it is a national disgrace that one of America’s finest intellectuals, a world-respected author and speaker, would end up in such poverty. During our visits, he never complained. He was always cheerful, speaking of many earth shaking historical events. His time was the time of great radicalism. His contemporaries were anarchists, rationalists, syndicalists, libertarians, the great union organizers, and especially Eamon de Valera, the great fighter for Irish Freedom. Sprading was a close associate of de Valera, and worked in the cause for Irish Freedom for many years, as an organizer, speaker, advance man, publicist, and writer.

I would sit in an old shaky wooden chair and listen wide-eyed to Sprading telling about Emma Goldman, revolutionaries, the great strikes, the libertarian campaigns against the religious “blue laws”, and other fantastic events. Most of the libertarian fights in the 1930s seemed to be against the “blue laws”, which among other things forbade retail stores to be open on Sundays. It is hard to believe now, in this time, that such laws existed 80 years ago. Mr. Sprading could go on for a couple of hours, his photographic memory for people and dates were very clear, he would never stumble over a date or a name. After about 2 hours, he would tire, and we would depart so he could rest.

My dad passed on at an early age in 1956. After a time, my mother would take me on a Saturday and we would make the long trip from Hollywood to East Los Angeles on street cars and buses to see Mr. Sprading. My mom didn’t drive, and when father died she sold the car, so we had to take public transportation. Believe it or not, it wasn’t bad back then, because we had the wonderful street car system, soon to be trashed by a conspiracy of GM, Firestone Tires, and Standard Oil. One fateful day we went out to see Mr. Sprading, but he wasn’t there. The landlady who lived in the front house said that he had died. We asked about his books and papers, and she informed us that she had “thrown away all those old papers and books, who would want them?” Even as a young man of 15 at that time, I knew those “old papers” were very valuable. I wanted to scream at this ignorant woman, but years of family training to be polite took hold. My mother was visibly upset, but she kept her cool. On the way home we discussed what a tragedy it was that the stupid woman threw away such rare photos, papers, and books in the trash. My mother knew that material should have gone to a library somewhere. And so it was that one of the giants of the 20th century died quietly in his sleep, living in a dilapidated old garage in the run down section of Los Angeles. His books still exist in libraries, and if someone could track down old copies of The Truth Seeker magazine published by Charles Smith, or other rationalist, libertarian, or freedom magazines, you will find some interesting articles by Charles T. Sprading. Since I was only 15 at the time (1959), and since I never heard of any other “youngsters” who visited him, I am pretty sure that I am one of the last persons presently alive who saw the great Charles T. Sprading.

Check out Mr. Sprading’s book on Mutualism at www.NowWeKnow.org.  It is listed under the menu heading “books”.  Sprading also wrote about “Freedom and its Fundamentals” and another volume called “Liberty and the Great Libertarians”.

“Lost” Documentary On Mayme Clayton Library Found

Documentary Tour and Description of Fabulous Library

by Paul Hunt

Back in 2009, filmmaker Arnold Herr, assisted by Mosiah Kennard, made a wonderful documentary of the Mayme Clayton Library and Museum.  The film features Avery Clayton, Mayme’s son and director of the Library. ( Mrs. Clayton had passed before the Library was open.)  The film was shown at the Library but lost in the chaos of the eviction by Ridley-Thomas and the ensuing gargantuan problem of packing up and moving 2 million books and items.

In a strange set of circumstances, we have found a copy of the film, and Ranai Clayton, Mayme Clayton’s grandson, is excited to show the public what the fantastic collection of African-American books, literature and history was like when it was at the Culver City location.

The Library is Safe

If you read the previous article on the Mysterious Disappearance of the Mayme Clayton Library, the question on everyone’s mind:  is the Library safe?  I have been assured by Mr. Clayton that the Library is safe in a secure Storage Vault.

What the Library needs is a new home with enough space to display the over 2 million books and items, and to get it re-opened for research.  The Mayme Clayton Library and Museum would like your help to find a new home and they are in need of funding to re-activate the collection.

Meanwhile, travel back in time to 2009 and see this beautiful collection before the despicable politics of a few Los Angeles politicians took it away from the public.  Please enjoy the documentary and share it with your friends.

The Mayme Clayton African-American Library Vanished Without A Trace. A Victim of Despicable L.A. Politics.

The Mysterious Disappearance of Libraries and Museums in Southern California

First Part in a Series
by Paul Hunt

Mayme Clayton with her beloved books

Mayme A. Clayton with her beloved books.

Mayme Agnew Clayton was an African-American woman born in Arkansas on August 4, 1923. At the age of 13 she started collecting books on the history and literature of Blacks in America. She ended up with a collection of about 2 million items and a Library and Museum in Culver City, California. It was a long, tough road for her, but she was incredibly focused and resilient. She died as her Library was opened, but her sons stepped up to fill the void, until mid-2019 when the entire Library and Museum vanished in the midst of the turmoil of L.A.’s rotten politics, heroic patrons, and a shameful Board of Supervisors. Like the fog of war and forgotten battles, piecing together the fragments of the dramatic drive to create a lasting Library for African-American studies has not been easy.

Mayme Clayton was an incredibly busy woman. She raised three sons, worked as a librarian, was involved in golf tournaments, and in every spare moment was out and about searching for books on the literature and history of African-Americans. One of her big collections came from a bookstore we have written about several times on this blog, Universal Books.
Sifting through the few scraps of history of bookstore archives and the fading memories of the last remaining booksellers, the story is both dramatic and inspiring.

Photo by Wayne Braby.

Universal Books came to life on February 25, 1966. The store was founded by Jerry Weinstein and his brother Bob, both of whom had spectacular careers in bookselling in the following decades. The store was a small shop located just east of Vine on the South side of Hollywood Blvd, at 6258. Don’t bother looking around for the location, most of that block was demolished and huge structures now occupy what was once a group of small shops, a hot dog stand, and the wild, dangerous bar called the Crazy Horse.

Jerry Weinstein, a great L.A. Bookman, in full regalia

Bob and Jerry struggled to get the shop going, buying books, putting up shelves and obtaining second-hand fixtures. Money was scarce. The Weinsteins, five brothers, had been running a junk shop opened by their father in South L.A. when they discovered that they could do better with books than all the other stuff. Some of the older booksellers, like Peter Howard encouraged them to focus on second-hand books, and the brothers
went full boar into selling books, along with a sister and the wives, creating a dynasty of book shops in Southern California. It’s a story in itself, full of drama, disasters, and huge success and wealth, but that will have to be written by one of the surviving members some day.

Bob Weinstein lasted about six months at Universal Books. Sales were slow, the shop was on the eastern edge of Hollywood Blvd., a ways from the action near Pickwick Book Shop and the cluster of book stores dotting the street just east of Highland Ave. Bob’s wife got pregnant, and Bob had to bail on the book store and go back to a mainstream job for a while. Jerry fished around for a new partner and found Larry Mullen, a fellow poker player at one of the clubs in Gardena. Jerry introduced Larry to the book business and made him an offer: “Work here at the shop for $100 per week for one year and I’ll make you a partner.” Larry agreed, and his education began as a book dealer.

The story of how Jerry Weinstein stumbled into the African-American book world involves some tragic circumstances, as was related to me by Larry Mullen many decades ago. Here it is, as I remember it: One day a gentlemen pulled up in front of Universal Books with his car jam packed with books. He said he was a landlord of a small bungalow in Venice that he had rented to two guys, one a beatnik and the other a musician. The 1960s were the trailing end of the beatnik days in Southern California, although Venice was a haven, and the influence in many ways is still evident in local libraries, crumbling buildings, poetry and vibes.

The landlord said that the beatnik guy, who collected all the books that he had in the car, had been busted for possession of pot, a somewhat serious offense back in those days. He was sent to jail for some time, and the musician, mostly unemployed, couldn’t pay the rent by himself so he took off for parts unknown. The Landlord gathered up all the books and pamphlets and loaded his car, hoping to sell the books and recoup lost rent. Jerry rummaged through the load, and was not immediately impressed. The books, many old and scarce, were all on Black history and literature, some going back to slave days. He was not familiar with the subject, but one thing about Jerry, he had instinct for books. He also knew that the Landlord had been trying to flog the books all over Hollywood, and Universal Books, sitting just east of Vine, was the last stop. East of Argyle was mostly desolate land in a literary sense. He was Mr. Landlord’s last chance.

So Jerry made the guy an offer, not based on the value of the books, which he did not even know at the time, but based on how much money was in his pocket at the moment, the cash drawer and bank account being drained by the Gardena card parlors. I don’t know what he paid for it, but let’s just say it was one of Jerry’s most spectacular buys. The frustrated Landlord was probably glad to get a few hundred bucks out of the deal, the economy slow, and he was also getting rid of a load of debris from the house. My thoughts at the time were to not only get the books but go back to the house and see what remained of rare pamphlets, documents, broadsides and miscellaneous strewn about. Hearing this story left an impression on me, I did exactly that several times in years to come, even telling landlords I would sweep up the debris “broom clean” if I could have the remaining items.

Jerry started to work on the book collection right away, getting together a catalog that was called “The Negro in America and Africa, a Choice Collection of Books by or about the Black Man.” The catalog was labeled “Black Literature Catalog #121.” I have a copy of this now rare catalog, and wondered if this was the first catalog Jerry put out or did he really have 120 earlier ones? According to Bob Weinstein, Jerry just picked a number, it was actually his first catalog, but Jerry wanted the librarians to think that he had been in business for some time and was not a novice.

 

The catalog was wonderful in content. Although just typewritten and offset printed as a pamphlet, many of the items dated back to the nineteenth century and some to Civil War and early times. The prices, with today’s perspective, were very reasonable. If I can figure out how to do it, I would like to make it into a .pdf for folks to use as reference.
Needless to say, the catalog was a smashing success and mostly sold out. The timing was perfect, universities across America were just beginning to establish ethnic studies programs, and it was important to have reference works to back them up.

With money coming in and orders piling up, Jerry went on the road, looking to find duplicates to fill orders and to scoop up any of the black literature and history he could find. As I have written about before, during the LBJ’s Urban Renewal program in the large cities across the country, many thousands of old buildings were torn down, many of these being the home of old established used book stores, usually in lower rent districts. The late 1960s and early 1970s saw major used book stores closing down forever, and liquidating their stock of books at bargain prices. Jerry hit many of these stores and shipped back his book purchases to Universal so Larry could send them out to waiting customers.

Meanwhile, Mayme Clayton was gathering books. She was in and out of many of the Hollywood Bookstores in the late 1960s, including Universal, and she most likely purchased a number of books from Jerry and Larry. In November of 1969 the L.A. Free University hosted Clayton “of the UCLA Law Library” to give a talk. Around 1970 UCLA asked her to assemble a collection of books on African-American literature and history. Funds were lacking to buy any sort of rare items and they were at least keen to buy some of the new books being published at the time. In the Summer of 1971 UCLA sent Mayme Clayton to Africa to look for books in Libraries there on the subject of African-American interest. She found very little in the countries she went to, and said that those books were almost non-existent in the libraries of African nations.

In the fall of 1971 she returned to Los Angeles and took a job working at Universal Books for $2 an hour. She had realized that although being a librarian was a good solid job, her real goal was to assemble a world class collection, a Library and Museum that would tell the story of Black people in America. She decided that Universal Books was at the time the leading book shop in the West Coast that was cataloging and selling books on Black subjects, so she decided to learn the ropes so she could open her own shop or Library some day.

The situation at Universal Books at that time was full of chaos and drama, as usual. Jerry and Larry had both been playing way too much at the Gardena Poker Clubs. Larry told me that they finally both realized that they had to pay attention to the business, so they made a deal. They would both quit gambling and devote themselves to be successful booksellers. If either party was caught gambling, he would have to sell the business to the other partner. Jerry got caught and had to sell the store to Larry Mullen. Larry, short of capital, took in a partner named Ed Withrow, a customer of the shop, well-to-do, and a collector of art books.

I met Ed Withrow in 1979 when I opened my shop in West Hollywood, the Paperback Jack Book Store. Ed was a good customer, a gentle man and very knowledgeable about books. We both knew Larry and Ed told me about his experience as a partner at Universal that lasted about a year. Ed was disappointed in the partnership and with Larry, and asked to be bought out. Larry scrambled around and brought in Jules Manasseh in 1972. Ed Winthrop was tragically murdered around 1980. He had owned some apartments and was refurbishing one of the units and went to work on the unit one night, evidently surprising some gang bangers who had broken in to steal his tools. Another shocking, senseless murder, all too common in the crime-ridden streets of Los Angeles.

By 1972, not only was Mayme Clayton working at Universal part time, evidently using the name “Mae Phillips” to protect her job as a librarian, but also working there were Mark Sailor and Melvin Guptin. Mark wrote a wonderful story about his experiences at Universal, published here at BookstoreMemories.com. I’ll put the link to it down at the end of this story. He called it the Lost Book World East of Vine. Mark Sailor was also involved with cataloging the Black Americana that the store continued to specialize in.

On December 4, 1973, the L.A. Times ran an article about Mayme Clayton, who had opened a bookstore in her remodeled garage behind her house at 3617 Montclair, South Los Angeles. The shop, called Third World Ethnic Bookstore, stocked over 3,000 volumes.

In 1974, Mayme put up the money to become a partner with Jules Manasseh, who had bought out Larry Mullen. The partnership didn’t last long, only a few months. She claimed the owner “lost profits at the horse races”, and that on one especially bad day lost all the business money. She ended the partnership, and took all the stock of books on African-American history, approximately 4,000 volumes, as settlement. Universal Books was pretty much out of the arena of books on Black History.

1975 was a busy year for Mayme Clayton. She was appointed to the staff of the DOVES Project, Dedicated Older Volunteers in Educational Services. She recruited seniors to volunteer to help at the local Watts elementary, junior and high schools.

In November of 1975 she changed the name of her bookstore to The Western Black Research Center. A newspaper article stated that Clayton would give tours of her library on Saturdays between Noon and 1pm. She also in the late 1970s and early 1980s was instrumental in putting on Celebrity Golf tournaments for African-American golfers.

By 1999 Mayme hosted a day long African-American Film Festival at Cal State Northridge. The films were from her collection at the Western Black Research Center. She had continued over the years to produce film festivals and lectures on African-American history and literature, and had purchased archives of photographs from failed magazines and newspapers, and expanded her collection at her garage until it was packed. The publicity she generated along the way finally led to a breakthrough in Culver City when a lease was signed in 2006 to open a Library and Museum at the old Courthouse at 4130 Overland Avenue, Culver City.

Her dream partially realized, sadly Mayme Clayton died on October 13, 2006.

Mayme painted by her son Avery Clayton

Mayme’s son Avery Clayton took over the job of building out the Library. In 2007 he changed the name from Western Black Research Center to The Mayme A. Clayton Library and Museum (MCLM). Yvonne Braithwaite Burke, Supervisor of the Second District, leased the old Courthouse to the MCLM for one dollar a year. The property in older times had been owned by Culver City, and the Council and Mayor were behind the Library and celebrated that Clayton’s Collection, which had grown from 3,000 items to around 2 million items, was going to be the largest African-American collection in the Western United States. It put Culver City on the Cultural map, along with the movie studios and art galleries.

Avery Clayton

Avery Clayton was busy with the Library. In January 2009 he loaned the Huntington Library in San Marino, one of the most prestigious Libraries in the World, a group of items from the Clayton collection for a display called “Central Avenue and Beyond. The Harlem Renaissance in Los Angeles.” The Museum was attracting a lot of attention. A local photographer and book collector named Mosiah Kennard introduced renowned L.A. bookseller and filmmaker Arnold Herr to Avery Clayton. Arnold was hired to make a documentary about the MCLM, which he did. It was an excellent film, and was shown at the Museum, but has since vanished, possibly still in the MCLM archives, wherever that is.

On Thanksgiving Day 2009 Avery Clayton died at his home in Culver City. He was too young and his untimely death was a blow to the Museum. The cause of death was not known or revealed if indeed known. He had previously had a kidney transplant, so possibly that had something to do with his passing. His brother Lloyd Clayton took over the reins of the MCLM. He tried to pull things together, putting on events and expanding Library services to the local community. Many volunteers worked at the location which became a Mecca to the African-American community on the West Coast. But storm clouds were brewing, and an outrageous display of dirty politics was closing in, leading to the destruction and disappearance of this invaluable Library.

Lloyd Clayton

At an event at the MCLM on November 9th, 2018, which was to celebrate the creation of a cultural corridor in Culver City, former City Councilman Jim Clarke oddly stood up with some “bad news”. He said that he heard that Supervisor Mark Ridley-Thomas had decided to evict the Library and replace it with a “constituent center.” This was shocking to Lloyd Clayton and the folks at the event, who could not believe that Ridley-Thomas would do something like that. Clarke said Ridley-Thomas wanted them out by the end of the year.

Supervisor Mark Ridley-Thomas evicted the MCLM

Then a couple weeks later, at the annual stakeholder meeting of the MCLM on November 20, the Senior Deputy for Ridley-Thomas showed up and said that the library had to get out, that the building needed repairs and that part of the roof had collapsed. It turned out that due to a small leak in part of the building a few ceiling tiles had fallen down. The spokeswoman also ranted on that the MCLM had not paid rent for years, and that the building is worth $93,000 per month. Forgetting that the Museum had an agreement with the County for a token rent of $1 per year and that the whole reason for the Library and Museum to be in the building was to provide the books, films, documents and archives to enrich the community. Over and over, I have observed that malicious bureaucrats will use this excuse to close down libraries: “The Library isn’t making any money,” they whine. Forgetting, of course, that libraries and museums usually don’t make money, they exist for cultural enrichment and benefit to the community.

On April 18, 2019 the MCLM is officially evicted by Ridley-Thomas, L.A. County’s powerful Supervisor.

Earl Offari Hutchinson led the fight to save the Library

This provoked an outrage from the community. Earl Offari Hutchinson, a radio personality and community leader, launched a vigorous campaign to save the MCLM. Starting on the 28 of April he held several demonstrations in front of the Library. He was supported by former Supervisor Yvonne Burke and Mayor Wells of Culver City. Hutchnson gathered a lot of support and wondered how one man (Ridley-Thomas) could get away with doing something like this with no public support. Despite petitions, phone calls, and letters from Culver City officials protesting this outrage, the Supervisors remained silent. The petitions and the community were totally ignored, and the County did not even have the courtesy to answer letters from local officials and residents.

In July the MCLM was boxed up and moved out. Blurbs in local newspapers claimed that Cal State University Dominguez Hills had made a deal to take the entire collection and merge it into their campus library. The MCLM story faded from view at this point. Covid hit, the Lockdowns, the vaccine controversies, the economic stagnation. The Library was forgotten. Libraries, churches and meetings were banned by the County.

A couple of years went by. When I tried to find where the Library had moved to, I hit a dead-end. The Librarian at CSUDH told me that they had been expecting the collection but it had never showed up. The Library, with its 2 million books, films, and documents had vanished.

And now we are presented with a strange coincidence. The building at 4130 Overland, former home of the MCLM, is now occupied by big pharma and big medicine. A huge non-profit called BioscienceLA is ensconced in the building. This non-profit was founded in 2018, just at the time Ridley-Thomas was first talking about evicting the MCLM. What a coincidence! Their brochure says “Launched with financial support from founding sponsors representing government, industry and philanthropic sectors, all of whom endorse the potential of Los Angeles to become a major West Coast life sciences innovation hub.”

I dropped by to see for myself, but the doors are locked to outsiders. A brochure was passed through a small cracked open door by a woman who didn’t want to answer any questions. The building is used as a meeting hub, so executives in the BioLA community can have a place to meet and not have to drive all over LA. They also recruit and train young students for placement in the medical companies and university medical systems.

Looking back through the postings of Urbanize Los Angeles and other websites reveals some interesting financial claims.

2019 – A news post claims BioLA received 4 million dollars to remodel the building on Overland. The money came from “Discretionary Funds” of the Second Supervisorial District (Ridley-Thomas). They also received a 5 year lease gratis, with an option for three five year extensions. (It was not stated whether the extensions were also gratis, or if there would be actual rent).

2020 – BioscienceLA’s “Biofutures Program” receives a 1 million dollar grant from Supervisor Mark Ridley-Thomas.

2021 – A news post says that “L.A. Builds a Bioscience Hub to Challenge Biotech Scene in San Diego and Boston”. The article claims that L.A. County had invested 10 million dollars in the project.

2021 – October 13 – Mark Ridley Thomas charged in a bribery and fraud scheme by a Federal Grand Jury. This was a scheme involving his son and the University of Southern California.

2023 – March 30 – Ridley-Thomas Convicted of Bribery, Conspiracy and Mail Fraud.

2023 – August 28th Ridley-Thomas Sentenced to 3 1/2 years in Prison. The Department of Justice never mentioned anything about the MCLM’s eviction and his relationship to BioscienceLA and his funding.

This story is not finished. There is more to come, soon.

Rest in Peace:
Mayme A. Clayton
Avery Clayton
Jerry Weinstein
Ed Winthrup
Mark Sailor
Melvin Guptin
Avery Mosiah Kennard

Thank you all for reading this. Any comments, corrections, or thoughts, please send them to bookman451@gmail.com. PH

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