Gloria Graves was, for a season, the “Beautiful Girl Buried Alive” at the end of the Ocean Park pier.

Her handlers included Mr. Q, a name he used as a vaudeville performer. The other name he used was Robert Godwin. He was one of those mind-over-matter, higher-consciousness hucksters who regularly turned up in L.A. to make a few bucks from the gullible or the bored. Godwin stuck the title Dr. on his name and called himself a hypnotist. Maybe he was too. He had a look that could etch glass. He had a strange way with women. You’ve probably guessed that he’s dead before this story is done.

Mr. Q exhibited Gloria as the “Beautiful Girl Buried Alive” for a dime a look down a long shaft that opened over Gloria’s almost pretty face and conventionally blond hair, shining in the glare of an electric light.

Gloria Graves sleeps in her coffin.

Gloria Graves sleeps in her coffin.

You could have seen on any street in Hollywood the same face and hair repeated a hundred times for free. That didn’t stop the customers from paying ten cents and peering at the girl lying below in her coffin.

The curious could shout questions down to her, and she would answer. She had a nice voice.