1905 – Boxing matches are staged at Tom Clark’s livery stable. Rough
Times in Early Ojai
I well remember one time when the men had Mavor Smith and me matched together. We were fairly evenly matched, and things were going smoothly until Mavor glanced over his shoulder to see how near he was to a horse’s heels in a nearby stall. At that instant, I uncorked a left to Mavor’s jar. Mavor considered that unfair and retaliated with all he had. The riot was quelled by Sam (Mavor’s father) dragging him across the street to their home back of the post office. " . . . One smart alec rode [ on a horse] into Clyde Stewart’s grocery store and roped a fellow and dragged him over the counter. But that episode is getting into the second decade [1910-1919], and I am trying to confine myself to the first decade [1900-1909]. And besides, that smart alec (notice I don’t use the term hoodlum) was myself." One November night, the village stillness was suddenly shattered by a series of pistol shots accompanied by unearthly yells. It turned out to be only Johnny Joshlin celebrating the beginning of the fall rains. After emptying two six shooters, he returned to [John] Lagomarsino’s saloon, and all was quiet again. Now I wonder how Johnny happened to have two six shooters, for he was not a gunman. The only law enforcement officer the valley had was Constable Andy Van Curen. He was a familiar sight with his flowing gray beard, riding about the valley on an iron gray horse. His home and the jail (they were separate buildings) occupied the area where . . .[the Bank of America and Carrow’s Restaurant are today].
I don’t remember there ever being anything in the jail but spare coffins, for Andy sometimes acted as undertaker. I am sure that on such occasions, he substituted the grey saddle horse for a team and spring wagon. I have recently learned, though, that Mrs. Van Curen would prepare meals, and one of the small daughters would carry them over to the inmates. There was a story of one of the valley’s most notorious rowdies. I will not mention his name, as it might offend highly-respected present-day descendents. His appearances before justice of the peace [James] McKee were becoming rather frequent, and each time the fine would be a little higher. Finally, the judge fined him $10. The fellow blinked, and with characteristic oath said, “Judge, ain’t that pretty steep for a regular customer?” Another time, Constable Van Curen called at his home to make an arrest. His mother met Van Curen at the front door and parlayed with him while the intended arrestee skipped out the kitchen door, saddled and mounted a horse and rode off to the upper Ojai. 13 Excerpts taken from:
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