Stingaree

Whoa. San Diego at one time — at the turn of the century (19th-20th) had a *wink wink nudge nudge* area downtown called the Stingaree

It was not that the good citizens of San Diego were unaware of the goings on down at Third and I (Island), and the surrounding area. Every city election that came along heard candidates promising to clean up the Stingaree; but after the election, the subject was dropped, and gamblers, prostitutes, and dope peddlers went on their way, uninterrupted except for an occasional raid and resultant fine. Profits more than justified such inconvenience and expense of doing business.

The Stingaree in San Diego and the Barbary Coast in San Francisco had much in common. They were both identified with waterfront life—the lusty sailor out for a spree after many weeks at sea—and flourished during the years when shipping was at its height, before railroads took over much passenger and cargo business. Concentrated in a relatively small waterfront area were saloons, gambling halls, parlor houses, and cribs catering to the lonely sailor, newcomer, and resident out for a “good time.” The police were glad the traffic in sin was open and above board, where they could keep an eye on it. Residents from other parts of town, while acknowledging such things were going on, simply stayed away from the area and pretended it did not exist.

Among the luminaries in the area was Ida Baily, owner of a brothel who paid off San Diego officials to warn her whenever raids were pending Jerry McMullen has some comments about her:

What kind of a lady was she?
Well, as I say, she was San Diego’s most famous “Madam,” and she was rather important politically and so on. She was in the city directory for many years and–I think it was along about 1905–if you will turn to that city directory you will find people’s names (there) in normal size type. And then, in the “B” section, you will come on to BAILEY, MISS IDA, and that type is about two points bigger than the other type on the page–no occupation given, just BAILEY, MISS IDA and the address. That is all you had to know.

Well, I saw her in about 1922, just after I had gone to work as a police reporter on the Tribune. This pathetic-looking old woman used to come shuffling by the police station occasionally–that’s when they had that horrible old police station down on Second Street, between F and G–and she would stop for a moment and chat with some of the old-timers like (Police Sgt.) George Pringle (Patrolman) George Wilson or (Patrolman) Jack Golden.

One day, after she had gone on shuffling down the street, I asked George Pringle, “Who is that dreadful-looking old ‘bag’?” He said, “Why don’t you know, that is Ida Bailey!” She was still living and much the worse for the wear. But you could tell she had been a “humdinger” in her day. So, I was very proud of the fact that I had seen Ida Bailey.