Caleb Toolbee came from the hard-scrapple oil fields of Pennsylvania over fifty years ago. He is known as a hard man with a dollar. The first to find that out was Sol Goldburg. Sol was the proprietor of the only hardware/farm implement store in town but it was a struggling business. He took the young Caleb in as a partner and within five years business was booming, expanding. Sol never profited from the success and soon found himself pushed out of the ownership. He died a broken man.
Caleb had found the formula for success and a wide variety of businesses fell into his hands in the years to follow. The most notable was the fertilizer industry. Before Caleb, an eastern company, Moss Hunt Inc., dominated the valley market. Caleb established his own corporation and used his, by now, vast resources to undercut prices. Moss Hunt was forced out of California and San Joaquin Fertilizers Inc. has enjoyed a virtual monopoly since that time.
Caleb Toolbee’s monumental success didn’t spill over into his private life. He lived alone in a large mansion with but a single manservant. His acts of charity were non-existent. He refused to talk about family. When asked directly his reply, “They’re all dead and in hell.” His employees were not spared; he hired and fired frequently. There was concern for his estate when he passed on.
In the winter of 1920 he took an unprecedented vacation. He was not heard from for three months and when he returned he had a bride. She was a beautiful woman and clearly thirty years younger than her husband. Her name was Consuela Obregon. Rumor had it that she was an aristocrat from Spain. We never knew because she was reclusive and neither she nor her husband was forthcoming about her background.
One year later she left town, some say she went to San Francisco, and when she returned she was trailed by a nanny carrying a tiny child. The child was a beautiful blond-haired boy. Caleb, for the first time in everybody’s memory, showed joy and happiness. He was an attentive father and doted on his offspring who he christened Todd. Observers noted that the new mother did not share her husband’s celebration; she was cold and even hostile towards her son. Within days she disappeared and was never heard from again.
If Caleb Toolbee was troubled by his wife’s disappearance he never showed it. Rather, he poured himself into the care of his son even to the point of neglecting his business empire. The first four years of Todd’s life was fun and games.
At age five Caleb entered his son in kindergarten and the trouble began. The teachers were perplexed, he was a beautiful child and had a bright happy smile but he couldn’t be trusted with other children. He wanted to hurt anyone smaller than himself. Not just pain, but serious injury was imminent for any child unfortunate enough to get within reach. Characteristically, Caleb blamed the teachers and classmates for the problem. He even suggested that the parents of victimized children were somehow at fault. He hired a tutor and removed Todd from private and public school.
The years passed and the boy grew tall, muscular. He retained his splendid good looks but the problems persisted. Time after time complaints were made, the police called, and each time victims and their families had to be bought off. Caleb finally decided that he had to take some drastic measures. Todd was sent to a military academy in Pasadena. He walked away after two days.
Back home, he hooked up with two of his friends. They purchased whiskey and proceeded to drink as they walked the streets. They became loud and abusive challenging passers-by to fight. Nobody accepted the challenge so they entered a saloon on Ninth Street. The bartender cautioned them to keep to themselves and avoid the party in progress. They retreated to a booth away from the festivities and proceeded to drink the night away.
It was a half-hour to closing time when a woman approached the cigarette machine to buy cigarettes. Todd leaped to his feet and wrestled the woman into the booth. This was witnessed by several patrons and soon all the partygoers were alerted. An army of men armed themselves with pool cues and sundry other weapons and confronted the trio. Todd’s uncontrollable temper was suddenly controllable. He apologized and with good grace he and his companions exited the establishment.
Back on the street Todd was furious and promised someone was going to pay for this gross insult. The streets were dark, deserted not a soul to be seen or heard. As they walked by an alley they saw a light shining from an open doorway. They entered the alley and were soon standing next to a garage with the backdoor wide open. Inside they could see a short stocky old man with a bad limp working on an automobile. He was oblivious to everything but the car right in front of him. Todd led his companions inside where they surrounded their target. This is the conversation that followed according to court transcripts: Todd standing directly behind Lonnie said, “Working kind of late aren’t you?”
Lonnie jumped and he turned to face his visitor. “Dang, boy, ya give me a start. How long you fellas been standing there?” His eyes took in all three as he sized them up.
Todd laughed a scornful evil laugh. “We’ve been here long enough to see you’re not much, old man. You should be more careful about leaving your door open at night.”
Lonnie smiled. “You come here to rob me?”
Todd was really grinning now. “Rob you? Hell, you haven’t got anything I want. You’re pathetic. I could buy and sell you with the change I carry in my pocket. No. We’re not going to rob you. We’re going to break both your arms and that one good leg you got. We’re going to…” Lonnie buried his fist into Todd’s belly, spun him around, and sent him flying into the alley with a shoe to the seat of the pants. Luke Hobbs and Bob Michaels, Todd’s friends, never raised a hand before Lonnie rendered them helpless with blows to the groin and throat respectively. Now, he walked each to the door and flung them out. Before Lonnie could close the door a rampaging Todd smashed it wide open. A knife was flashing back and forth aimed at Lonnie’s face. Lonnie threw his arms in the air to ward off the blows as he was driven across the garage. He backed into the workbench on the far wall and could go no farther. Todd had a wild gleam in his eye as he lowered the knife to gut level and moved in to disembowel his cornered prey. Lonnie reached back and grabbed his heavy mechanic’s hammer, and smashed it down on the top of Todd’s’ head crushing the skull. Lonnie, both arms bleeding profusely, collapsed and fell to the floor beside his dead foe.
“Gee Grandma sometimes you talk just like those high-falutin’ folks.”
Grandma laughs and taps her forehead. “I told ya, Archie, I got it rit rite cher and I could ditch my hillbilly talk tomorrow but folks would say I was gittin’ stuckup.”
Archie is puzzled but decides to press on. “What happened next, Grandma?”
Grandma pulls out a newspaper clipping with big black headlines; “CALEB TOOLBEE’S SON KILLED BY AUTOMOBILE MECHANIC!” Archie reads quickly until he gets to the part where Caleb Toolbee says he is confident that American justice will prevail and execute this murderer. “Why’s he say that, Grandma?”
“Folks that lose kin always want revenge. Old Man Toolbee tried but he never was able to get the law to make Lonnie go to trial. Folks like him never give up though and Lonnie will never work in this town ever again.”
“Why not go to Tracy like my mama did?”
Grandma shakes her head, “Lonny was tore up that he killed somebody. That boy ain’t never gonna work again.”
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