Mayor lets word out on the 'Night Stalker'

Here's a look at the past. Items have been culled from The Chronicle's archives of 25, 50, 75 and 100 years ago.

1985

Aug. 24: Mayor Dianne Feinstein disclosed yesterday that the gun used to kill a San Francisco accountant last Saturday was used by the "Night Stalker" to murder some of his Los Angeles victims. The ballistics tests prove that the serial killer is "somewhere in the Bay Area," said the mayor. Her disclosure came on the second day of a widespread effort by the San Francisco police to track down the person who is believed to be the killer of Peter Pan as well as several women in Los Angeles County. Pan, 66, was asleep in his bed in his home near Lake Merced when he was shot in the head by an intruder. His wife, Barbara, also shot in the head by the attacker, apparently after she awoke, remains in critical condition at San Francisco General Hospital. Surprised San Francisco police would not confirm the mayor's statement that ballistic tests linked Pan's killer with the "Night Stalker's" seven known victims. Her announcement was "premature" and could compromise the case against the killer, one officer said. "It was a buffoon statement," snorted a second officer. "There goes the gun into the bay." All the officers asked to remain anonymous.

1960

Aug. 24: A weary, middle-aged man, broke and unemployed, raised a pistol to his face, poked the muzzle in his mouth and squeezed the trigger. Then he lay back on the soiled sheets of his Tenderloin hotel bed to die. That was on Saturday. Monday noon Raymond Cominskey, 54, felt a very undeathly sensation: hunger. He climbed shakily to his feet and sauntered out the door of the Lloyd Hotel, 41 Jones Street, in search of a restaurant. Room clerk, Sidney Duke, 74, inspected Cominskey's room and found the bed sheets stained with blood. Under the pillow was a .380 Belgian automatic. Duke called police. Officers William Dailey and Charles Ellis found Cominskey in Harrington's Tavern, 9 Jones Street, belting down straight shots of whiskey. Officer Dailey inquired about the blood and the gun. Cominskey lowered his glass and replied matter-of-factly: "I shot myself last Saturday." Dailey asked Cominskey where he shot himself. "In the head," said Cominskey, opening wide and pointing to a hole in the roof of his mouth. With that, the officers hustled him off to Mission Emergency Hospital, where he underwent surgery. Somewhat astounded, physicians revealed that the bullet tore a path through Cominskey's mouth, through the sinuses, past the eyes, somehow missing the brain and critical nerves, coming out of the top of his head just above the hairline. "He's not too serious," marveled a doctor. "He'll recover." Cominskey said his first reaction after shooting himself and discovering he was still alive was to ask himself, "What kind of gun are the Belgians putting out, anyway?"

1935

Aug. 28: Can Mrs. Helen Wills Moody still play tennis? If San Francisco fans have any doubts about it, 2,000 of them may look for themselves at the Palace of Fine Arts. The Queen of Tennis, who won back her own crown after a dash to Wimbledon and a conquest of Helen Jacobs that was one of the most spectacular comebacks in sports history, goes into action today for the first time since her English invasion and before a hometown audience for the first time in three years.

1910

Aug. 22: When Al Jolson appeared at the American a couple of years ago he was just as good as he is now, but people didn't know it. He was at a house that didn't draw a discriminating public and with a show that busted. Now he comes to the Orpheum and easily makes himself the feature of the bill. He merely peddles nonsense, but the way he does it elicits screams of pleasure from his audience. His chatter is as light as air and quite unquotable. But his slight frame is full of life and vim, and he gesticulates with a silly forcefulness to ram home every word of his stuff. It is worth a visit to the Orpheum just to hear him utter the word "Pittsburg," which he does with a kind of pizzicato explosiveness. His whistling is a stunt, but his real asset is his manner. Jolson carries on the best traditions of black-face, an old-fashioned art somewhat deteriorated in the easy conquests of vaudeville.

Aug. 28: The Anti-Japanese Laundry League reports that it is greatly encouraged in its efforts by numerous communications it received from persons who write that they have ceased patronizing Asian businesses and have transferred their patronage to white laundries. Agents affiliated with the league report from places outside San Francisco that the Japanese have lost a large part of patronage within the last nine months and that their business is declining in different parts of the state. The league proposes to have a most attractive float in the Labor Day Parade. {sbox}