Solving a Whodunit Was All in Night’s Play for Partygoers

Bernie Spawn, the egomaniacal developer, was the victim Sunday of a homogenized homicide at the Golden Lion Tavern.

The police were not summoned to the scene and thus are not baffled by the crime, which in any case was solved by the 250 people present at the Gaslamp Quarter tavern shortly after the murder occurred. When apprehended, the killer, Gale Beagel, confessed his guilt and outlined how he done it. Spawn apparently succumbed to poisoned mascara, making this a most unusual case.

Almost anyone who ever has done time on a charity committee will agree that fund raising is murder. But the subject always has been treated just like the weather--everyone has been willing to talk about it, but no one has done anything to change the situation.

Until Sunday, that is, when Melanie Cohrs and her newly formed Tuesday Club turned the tables on the killer chore of fund raising by staging a murder for charity.

Now that’s a different kettle of fish. Perhaps a bucket of red herrings, a smelly catch that nonetheless provided a tasty feast for the imaginations of the Tuesday Club members and their guests.

This was the first fund-raiser to be given by the club, which has been organized as a singles’ auxiliary to the Child Abuse Prevention Foundation of San Diego. Cohrs said the murder mystery idea came along with relatively little effort, since a relative professionally stages such parties for a hotel chain. And Cohrs loves games; several seasons ago, she was La Jolla’s acknowledged high priestess of Trivial Pursuit.

But there was little of the trivial about the pursuit of Spawn’s killer by the theatrically garbed guests, whom the invitations obliged to attend in “mystery dress.” They had quite a cast of potential felons from which to choose, and had to work hard for their clues; fortunately, the Golden Lion smoothed the sleuths’ paths by spreading several handsome buffets that provided nourishment for the arduous task of detecting.

Upon arrival, each guest received a notebook with one of 10 clues attached; by comparing notes with other guests, it was possible to determine who in fact had committed the crime, even before the dastardly deed was done. Those who felt sure of their choice cast a ballot in a box, and a drawing held for the pool of winners later awarded various prizes.

Chairman Eric Dye, who was chief of detectives, called the group to order midway through the evening to allow the presentation of a skit in which eight characters revealed themselves to be ugly customers, and Mr. Spawn ultimately got his. The story line, rather amazingly, had been developed by a committee, then scripted by Linda Williams. Dodie Garner assembled the actors, none of them professionals but all of them hams of the highest degree.

(The rehearsals apparently had their light-hearted moments, as when waiters pestered the practicing thespians with offers of food and drink, and Garner tested her skit-ending scream on an unsuspecting audience of diners, who apparently took it all in stride.)

The cast included Ron Mix as the ill-fated Spawn, with Ashley Gardner as his wife, Buffy, and Garner as his mistress, an evangelist named Sherri Hull Spinnaker. Real-life FBI man Gary Laturno played detective Sam Sieve (think of a sieve as a kind of colander, and you’ll know just who Laturno’s character was intended to spoof); Elliot Pierce played investor J. Donald; Bob Lawrance portrayed the murderer, Gale Beagel, and Joe Basquez played town supervisor Waldo Gonzales (just think of lunch).

The skit involved plenty of innuendo, and so many double-entendres that one could easily lift a James Bond script directly from it. The crowd loved the whole idea, and when the skit ended with Spawn crashing to the floor, went directly to work solving the crime. One who did not participate was Patti Mix; having attended four rehearsals with her husband, she already knew who did it. (Patti has her own project, anyway; she’s busy with last-minute details for a June 5 shindig that will honor Gen. Jimmy Doolittle on his 90th birthday, and raise funds for the USO. Bob Hope, James Stewart and Sen. Barry Goldwater have promised to be on deck for the air show at Miramar Naval Air Station, which will be followed by a dinner-dance at the Hotel Inter-Continental.)

The committee included Judy Courtemanche, Sharon Wilson, Dick Kyleberg, Thomas Goode , Joleen Singh, Denise Capozzi, Gene Sally, Todd Parnell, Barbara Owen, Paul D’Heilly, Doug Rodgers, Tracy Corwin, Kathleen Kellogg, Carlye Christianson, Cathy Zirpolo, Heather Campbell, Robert Butterfield, Jerald Lautin and Mindy Mitchell.

What is black and white and read all over?

Well, yes, the newspaper, of course--but the answer desired at the moment is “The Cat in the Hat,” which in addition to being one of the most popular Dr. Seuss books also happens to be black and white and red all over.

This is exactly the tri-toned situation that the rotunda of the San Diego Museum of Art found itself in May 14 when 140 friends of the museum (all clad in the same shades) turned out for a festive preview of the new exhibit, “Dr. Seuss From Then to Now.”

Guests of honor were Ted Geisel (Dr. Seuss himself), and his wife, Audrey; also honored were major underwriters of the exhibition, including Ingrid and Joseph Hibben, Cecil Green, Patsy and Forrest Shumway, Marilyn and Kim Fletcher, Jeanne and Larry Lawrence, George and Martha Gafford, and Colleen Kerr.

Audrey Geisel undertook planning many of the evening’s details, which explained the black, white and red theme that so captivated the guests. Audrey’s inspiration may have come from the 22-foot-high Cat in the Hat that peeked over the museum’s facade; in any case, she requested that women wear black, white or red gowns (some worked all three colors into their costumes); decorated the dinner tables with black cloths, white china and genuinely stunning arrangements of red anthuriums and gerbera daisies, and even supplied a tri-colored dessert of dark chocolate mousse with custard and raspberry sauces.

The dinner came as the cap to an evening that commenced with a privileged preview of the exhibit. This is the most extensive retrospective of Geisel’s works ever mounted, and stretches back some six decades to his days as an illustrator for magazines and advertisers. Numerous guests dated themselves when they exclaimed, “I remember these!” upon reaching the collection of “Quick, Henry, the Flit!” drawings, but seemed not at all abashed; others had personal recollections of other elements of the exhibit. Dolly Maw, for example, had just finished reminiscing about the “Seuss Navy” flag that Geisel used to fly from the masts of friends’ boats when the same flag, framed and mounted on the wall, was pointed out to her.

The meal passed elegantly from course to course, from a trio of pates to sorbet to roast beef tenderloin to fruit and cheese. Formalities were kept at bay until dessert, when museum director Steven Brezzo climbed halfway up the rotunda’s grand staircase to deliver a long, long rhyme that praised Geisel and the exhibit’s underwriters. Brezzo also admitted that his school days had been devoted to spitballs until he “swallowed the Seussian hook,” which diverted his interests and energies to a more respectable path.

Geisel accepted the honor with a rhyme of his own, which also paid homage to the underwriters. He said, with a twinkle in his voice,

Among the most unusual species that liveth,

Is a small select group of givers that giveth.

And if it weren’t for these givers who gave,

San Diego would live in a cultural cave.

This, of course, was a tough act to follow, but museum board President Gordon Luce took the challenge and presented Geisel with a proclamation from the City Council that declared the coming months to be “The Summer of Dr. Seuss.”

“We’re a world-class city because we have a world-class citizen like Ted Geisel,” Luce said. An ovation ensued.

Sue and Charles Edwards were there, and so were Ruth and Cliff Grobstein, Lois and Karl Madsen, Carolyn and DeWitt Shuck, Lee and Lawrence Cox, Lois and Donald Roon, Katy and Michael Dessent, Walter Fitch, Susan and Frank Kockritz, Beverly and Bill Muchnic, Helene and Ed Muzzy, Helen and Bennett Wright, Jeanne Jones with Dick Duffy, and Jo Bobbie MacConnell. (MacConnell promised that society band leader Mike Carney will be on the scene in September for the museum’s annual Fine Arts Ball, which she again is chairing.)

RANCHO SANTA FE--Camels were in short supply at Saturday’s “Midnight at the Oasis,” a sons-of-the-desert spoof given by the Multiple Sclerosis Brunch Society for 800 guests.

But there wasn’t a shortage of anything else. There were tons of people, all beautiful, naturally, including numerous harem girls, several sheiks, and one fellow in a long fur coat who evidently thinks oases are found in cold climates. Local restaurants donated the glamorous grub served up at the buffets, and there was a cotillion of tireless belly dancers who held sway all evening long.

The Brunch Society holds several events annually, but the spring affair always is presented by the men, whose ticket purchase entitles them to invite (anonymously, by custom) two women to attend these very dressy parties. “Midnight” was given at a private home donated for the evening by builder John Desha, who attended with his wife, Connie, and his mother, Luba Johnston. Although the home was donated after the desert theme already had been devised, it fit perfectly, its stark white surfaces and generous terraces providing a Saharan illusion that was dramatized by the crescent moon overhead.

Most of the action took place outdoors, where guests variously amused themselves by dancing, visiting the casino, and consulting the palmists and psychics who are becoming regulars at local singles’ events. At midnight, the party paused momentarily while a brunch of crepes and pastries was served, and then the pace resumed. The last dancers reportedly did not depart until 4 a.m.

John Alexander and Barbara Kramer co-chaired the event, with assistance from a committee that included Ken Carlisle, Andrea Terry, Bethney DeView, Patrick Thomas, Cindy Alexander, Susan Clifton, Joan Steward, Bill Kreder, Lori Murray, Gerry Curtis, Nancy Satterfield, Jean Ogden, Dan Floit, Cheryl Rice, Jeff Platt and Susan Hoffman.