way from the Republican Club, is the same sort of dive, with the exception that it is given to the cultivation of pugilism rather than politics . ... Both places are provided with bars, for which they pay no taxes to the city. Both are sinks of iniquity, where the dregs of society of both sexes and all colors congregate nightly to indulge in unbridled vice. Occasionally the police arrest some of the women who frequent these dives, but no serious effort has ever been made to prevent the orgies, which are of nightly occurrence. The Manhattan Club was described as a place where "negroes, tough whites, white and colored prostitutes assembled, caroused, drank, gambled and worse until even the merchants on that street, who are never there at night, demanded that it be closed, and it was closed. . . . A uniformed officer was stationed at the door, and no matter who entered, his or her name was taken. Tough as were the patrons of the place they did not like the idea of the police keeping tab on them and the result was that" the business was ruined and the club was closed. 1992. In November 1992 the Los Angeles Times published a lengthy article whose headline described the Warehouse District as "the underbelly" of Los Angeles, a "concrete jungle" that was "rife with transients who pillage businesses on eerie nighttime raids." Reporter David Farrell wrote that "burglars clamber from one building to the next in search of air vents, attic doors, any place they can break in. There are petty bonanzas to reap: stereos, shoes, tomatoes and oranges by the crate--anything they can sell for crack cocaine." He called the District a "realm of cinder block and sheet metal, a landscape hard by the concrete shore of the Los Angeles River." Prostitution was rampant, both male and female, and residents lived through theft and by doing odd jobs for little pay. Business owners reported spending thousands of dollars for protection like security guards, video cameras, iron fences and concertina wire, only to have them soon circumvented by thieves, who quickly offered stolen goods for sale on the sidewalks or elsewhere in the District. Fires The history of the Wholesale District was marked by a number of notable fires, particularly in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. 1898. The Germain Building, which housed the wholesale department