BTW, here’s the mortuary Schlong photo that Cecil refers to in today’s column.
How anyone could look at that photo and think that the bulge is an erect dick is beyond me.
People are stupid.[sup]TM[/sup]
BTW, here’s the mortuary Schlong photo that Cecil refers to in today’s column.
How anyone could look at that photo and think that the bulge is an erect dick is beyond me.
People are stupid.[sup]TM[/sup]
I read somewhere that the rumor about Dillinger being unusually well-equipped was becasue he often carried a sawed-off shotgun down his pants leg. The loose style of pants was just enough to show a long bulge when he sat.
I just gotta say that Slug’s accompanying illustration is one of the funniest I’ve seen in awhile. Especially the doctor removing Dillinger’s brain… and is the “snipper” wearing a hard-hat?
He should be so lucky.
In reference to Cecil’s comments about Dillinger not being the one shot outside the theater, or buried: I’m from Indianapolis, and in the eastern part of the city are two cemeteries, on opposite sides of a major highway. We drove down the highway on our way to a relative’s home in 1965, and my Mom told us the highway was sort of like the “tracks” in that the cemetery on one side was a resting place for the remains of respectable people, while the notorious were buried in the cemetery on the other side of the highway. My Mom said that a few years before, a proposal had been made to move Dillinger’s coffin from one cemetery (the “bad side”) to the other, and there was a considerable local furore about it. And his body was in fact re-interred across the highway.
Asked by “Horace Naismith III”, eh?
He wouldn’t happen to be the grandson of theHorace Naismith, founder of the infamous John Dillinger Died for You foundation, now would he?
A truer urban legend is that Dillenger’s member is at the National Museum of Health and Medicine instead of the Smithsonian, also in Washington, D.C. The museum does hold other bits of people, but Dillenger’s bit still isn’t one of them.
Yet another tale about Dillinger is that the alley outside the theater where he was shot is one of the most haunted places in Chicago, to the point where anyone walking through it can feel at least a cold spot but often more. The stories about the haunting even cover the patsy theory: That the ghost is mad that nobody knows who he is.
A cold spot in Chicago? Oh Puh-leeze
Hmmm. Sounds like a relative wrote the question, or the questioner was being a smart alec by adopting a famous nom de plume.
I wonder why Cecil didn’t mention this oddity in his column.
More on John Dillinger’s grave is here:
LL
When I lived in Chicago a few years ago I saw a movie at the Biograph. I walked past the alley without any feeling other than mild disgust that I spent eight bucks to see a lousy flick like “Twister.”
And some say that is you order a margarita at Fiesta Mexicana (the mexican restaurant next to the alley where Dilliinger died they will serve you even if you are under age.
Creepy.
Or at least that is what we did in college.
A sidebar to this story:
It is ultimately unprovable, but my great-grandmother made this claim.
She and my great grandfather lived in a small town in central Illinois, an easy drive from Chicago.
She had a room in her house that she rented to travelers, there being no hotel at the time (REALLY small town). Sort of a Bed and Breakfast arrangement.
On the night before Dillinger was shot, she had a man stay in her room, then leave in the morning. When the news of Dillinger’s death came out, with a picture, she recognized her roomer of the night before.
Now the name “Dick Dillenger” is haunting me.
I read the same thing, that one of his gang members had joked about it.
Side question: What was the movie Dillinger had watched?
Geez, Dillinger kinda looked like my dad.
Not a Dillinger story, but a funny related story involving Chicago gangsters that I read in a biography of Dean O’Banion, one of Capone’s rivals in bootlegging.
Apparently, one of O’Banion’s beer truck drivers was gay, and his co-workers found out. The nineteen-twenties being a less tolerant time, the co-workers were totally grossed out and wanted the guy fired. They told O’Banion, who surprisingly told them, “I don’t care what the guy does, he’s a good driver.” and told the co-workers to get back to driving.
Later, the co-workers came to O’Banion with an envelope full of what passed for gay porno pictures back then. The biography described it as pictures of guys in their underwear. They told O’Banion that they had found the porno stash in the gay driver’s truck.
O’Banion was in a hurry and grabbed the envelope, but he still told the co-workers to get lost. He wasn’t firing the guy. Then O’Banion left to go distribute the week’s payoffs to the police.
Imagine some police captain’s face when he opened his weekly bribe envelope only to find gay porn.
Imagine the phone call O’Banion got later.
And like I always say when I come across stories like this: If it ain’t true, it oughta be.
(Hm, never knew Dean O’Banion held such enlightened viewpoints.)
I’d have to see a cite on this, as Dillinger was rather famously “buried deep” - a short time after his burial, someone took it upon themselves to dig out and refill the grave with a mixture of scrap iron and concrete. I know for a fact that hasn’t been moved because Dillinger is/was long on James Starrs’ list to exhume for examination, and besides persistent family refusal, the big problem was (1) digging that mass out without destroying what was under it and (2) that the coffin and corpse had likely been crushed into fairly useless condition for an exhumation and exam.
As for whether it’s Dillinger in there, I consider the matter unproven either way. There are enough discrepancies in the autopsy, even allowing for sloppiness, to make it questionable. Don’t forget that in the months before the Biograph shooting, dozens of men a day all over the country were being arrested because they resembled John D.
The name’s Dillenger. Dick Dillenger.
Highly unlikely.
Dillenger was in Chicago the night before he was shot, and for some time before that. He was staying with a prostitute named Polly Hamilton, and her Madam, Anna Sage. They were the two women who went to the theatre with him the night he was shot. His car had been found & seized by the police earlier that month.