I’ve been tracking down the greatest single athletic performance in Sacramento history. The honor goes to Charlie Loeb. Nobody else comes close.
Loeb achieved a local sporting record that can’t be beat. He did it at Fourth and K streets in front of children, drunks, community leaders, pickpockets and cops.
Like any great athlete, Loeb had fans who loved him and detractors who hated him.
One group of detractors were church women. They were disgusted by Charlie. Another local group, the Capital Klan No. 126, Invisible Empire, Knights of the Ku Klux Klan, denounced Charlie.
But every day at 5:30 p.m., KFBK broadcast a radio program featuring Charlie Loeb. The station soon added a second Loeb broadcast at 10 p.m.
Two weeks before Charlie made his mark, the City Council passed a law to stop others from following his footsteps.
Footsteps were Charlie’s game. He was a marathon dancer.
Charlie Loeb’s great performance began Christmas Day, 1930. He arrived at Weinstock-Lubin department store on K Street and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Dry goods were shoved aside to make room for dance contestants, orchestra, radio equipment and several hundred spectators, most of whom paid 25 cents to watch a grim display of endurance.
Then Charlie began to move. Not dancing, but never standing still, beyond 15-minute breaks every hour. He moved for days. Then weeks. Then months.
The marathon ended at 1 a.m. on March 30, 1931. Charlie moved for 2,260 hours. The music stopped when the final two contestants besides Loeb, Marjorie Myers and Rita Herbert, sat down.
Alone on the Weinstock-Lubin dance floor, Charlie won $1,500. He promised to share the cash with Marjorie and Rita.
Charlie’s endurance feat was controversial. Dance marathons, a phenomenon that captivated the nation, blended masochism with sadistic voyeurism. In Seattle, a woman committed suicide after finishing fifth in a dance marathon.
Sacramento banned dance marathons in 1929, after one was scheduled for Memorial Auditorium. The 1930 Weinstock-Lubin event danced through a loophole.
The promoter, Dick Richards, said the city’s ordinance prohibited marathon dancing, not walking. He called his event a “charity walkathon.” Richards convinced the West End Charity Club to sponsor the event for an 80-20% gate split. Richards got 80%.
City Manager James Dean admitted the ordinance was ambiguous. Police Chief Bill Hallanan and Health Officer Dr. Herbert True declared Richards’ maneuver legal enough. Richards’ permit was good until May 17, 1931. He paid $2 per day in fees.
Crowds congregated at Fourth and K. Around the clock, 3,000 people per day. Some caused trouble.
Police arrested Otis Morgan with a half gallon of wine. Cops booked F.J. Baker, R.E. Johnson and T.L. Major for drunkenness and “making general nuisances of themselves.”
F.J. Madera landed in jail when he swore at people, cursed an American flag and kicked Police Officer George Pierce.
By March, the city’s church women were fed up. The Church Federation sent members to Weinstock-Lubin to take notes. They testified before City Council and described the marathon as a “pitiless exploitation of human beings for profit.”
The committee said, “Two of the remaining couples who originally started December 25 were in a state of almost complete exhaustion and seemed to be walking in a daze, plainly unable to realize what they were doing.”
Local Ku Klux Klan secretary D.A. Redlef sent a letter to City Hall saying the marathon is “making merchandise of woman’s virtue; it seems to encourage pandering and all that goes with it.”
The marathon included moments of joy. Two contestants, Jean Scott and Albert Van Allen, were married on the dance floor.
Charlie Loeb was the audience favorite. He thrilled fans with jokes and tricks. Charlie was on fire. Literally.
His routine involved fire-eating, a risky stunt for a weary marathoner. On Feb. 16, Charlie Loeb burned his face. A nurse quickly bandaged him up.
He returned to the dance floor wearing bandages for a week. Never missed a step.
R.E. Graswich can be reached at regraswich@icloud.com. Follow us on Facebook, X and Instagram: @insidesacramento.
