Ashley Fowler
Staff Writer
Signal Hill has hosted a number of colorful characters over the years. Among them, the memory of the multifaceted “Kid Mexico” lives on.
Tod “Kid Mexico” Faulkner was born on Nov. 22, 1900 in Hope, New Mexico. Shortly, thereafter the family moved to Taft, California, near Bakersfield.
As a child, Faulkner was already a boxing enthusiast and by 14, he was the state’s bantam-weight champ. He became welter-weight champ at 17 and by 25 held the middle-weight title.
One night in the ring an announcer flubbed “the kid from New Mexico,” launching the snappy moniker “Kid Mexico.” Promoters gobbled up the name and accompanying persona. It was one to be remembered.
Out of 387 fights, Faulkner lost only 11. Bert Colima, a well-known fighter from Whittier, beat him three of those times. The rivals boxed before sellout crowds in 1921, 1922 and 1925.
After the last defeat, the Los Angeles Times called him “poor old Kid Mexico.”
But he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t retire from the ring until 1936, when he decided to become a fight promoter. During that time, there were various disputes with the boxing commission over his organizing fights without a license. He continued promoting into the 1940s.
In 1932, he met his future wife Edna at the Majestic Ballroom, located at the Pike. She was just 16 years old at the time— half his age. Within a year they were married.
Faulkner worked in the oil fields after that, until he decided he could make more money in the entertainment business.
He opened up a café, a bar, a bowling alley, a taxi-dancing hall and a bingo parlor. On Sunday nights, he would call the glitziest of his star-studded little black book to entertain Signal Hill residents as they patronized his joints.
“His personality certainly warranted hanging out with celebrities,” neighbor Raymond Tropeano said. “He was that kind of guy. He wanted to always be in the thick of things, and I think that was just the way he was.”
Faulkner lived across the street from his entertainment emporium in the 14-room house he’d built for his wife. They had two sons, Tod Jr. and Harley. His home was filled with pictures and memorabilia from his boxing heyday— photos of him with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope in front of his Signal Hill home, for example.
“He had all kinds of really neat stuff that, as a kid, we used to love to mess around on— old slot machines and jukeboxes,” Tropeano said. “We also loved looking at his old pictures of him with his celebrity buddies.”
Faulkner knew everyone. He had friends in Hollywood, in City Hall and law-enforcement, and some said that he had enough politicians on bankroll to keep his doors open.
He campaigned vigorously for his favorite officials; he was even reported to mow a woman’s lawn to convince her to support his candidate.
He made a substantial amount of money during that time. Operating outside of the law, Faulkner brought the people of Signal Hill the entertainment they were craving.
“There was a lot of underground stuff that he was involved with. I remember the slot machines in his house, which were illegal at the time, and I remember that so distinctly,” Tropeano said. “He even had his own ‘Kid Mexico’ casino tokens. There were certainly things he was doing that weren’t quite so legal.”
Despite his shady dealings, or perhaps because of them, Faulkner was generous to folks in his community
“At Christmas time his most local charitable activity was a party for the kids of Signal Hill,” neighbor Marjorie Grommé remembered. “He collected loads of gifts throughout the years, including bicycles, dolls, games— just anything that would appeal to kids.”
For 38 years, from 1941 to 1979, his Christmas parties brought joy to the area’s children. He would give away more than 10,000 toys every year. Celebrities like Hopalong Cassidy and Jack Dempsey helped him officiate his big giveaway.
“You felt really comfortable with the guy,” Tropeano said. “He was very warm and welcoming and generous. He was nice to every kid.”
The press also came in droves. They would follow his goings-on, run-ins with law-enforcement, or his large charitable donations.
In 1951, he was accused of registering voters who didn’t live in Signal Hill to defeat an anti-gambling initiative that would put an end to his bingo parlor. He pled guilty to the charges, was fined $500 and given three years’ probation. The initiative passed and, without the gambling, his business quickly dried up.
Faulkner and his wife then moved to Laguna Beach in 1952, just three years before she died of cancer in their living room. She was 36.
Faulkner married again, shortly. But in 1970, he moved back to Signal Hill and opened a “Kid Mexico” museum in his old house, charging locals $2 to view his collection of photos and memorabilia. Among the artifacts displayed hung a painting by silent-film star William S. Hart and a chair that had belonged to Western-film actor Tom Mix.
In 1979, a reporter from the Press-Telegram attended Faulkner’s final Christmas party. He was asked how he spent his time, and he answered, “I think of women during the day, eat out most of the time, and go dancing at night.”
Faulkner was 85 and living in Hemet when he died from a heart attack. His obituary in the local newspaper in 1985 read, “According to whom you chose to believe, he was a hero or a bum. A colorful character or a shady figure.”
The people of Signal Hill who still remember him, mostly children who grew up receiving his Christmas gifts, say he was warm and generous, and his larger-than-life personality is etched into some of their favorite childhood memories. They remember him best as the life of the party.
Information from this story was provided by the Historical Society of Long Beach, based on a script used during the organization’s annual cemetery tour.
