Duncan U Fletcher High School
I remember looking around at my classmates during classes our senior year (64/65) and thinking "this is it, I won't ever see some/most of these fellow travelers again", and feeling sad. High school was fun, crappy, traumatic, anxious, proud to be a Jax Beach lifeguard, disappointed not to be good enough to play varsity football, smart enough to graduate #6 in class, heart broken by girlfriend who left me, butting heads with parents, fearful about college and future, wishing I had more $ and a nicer car, wishing I could surf better, and wanting to be in with the in crowd. Frank Zappa said "Life is just high school with more money." Go purple and white (no gold back then). - Facebook message to Hayden Roberts, class of 2011 - 9/13/2010
November 20, 2013
Guarding the Beaches
When I entered the Corps in the summer of 1964, it was the last year we guarded all of the beaches south of the Mayport jetties to Ponte Vedra. Our guards, including me, have guarded in St. Johns County also. Andy Altee’s Dad worked for the Ponte Vedra Club, I guarded Sawgrass Country Club, and a number of the Ponte Vedra Club guards defected to Jax Beach in the early 2000’s. I’m sure there are others also.
After Hurricane Dora in November of 1964, The Neptune Beach station at the foot of Atlantic Boulevard, was badly damaged and in need of major repair. I sat there in 1965, and we used scaffolding for a “peg”. Marshall Jarboe, who was the law in Neptune Beach, wanted the Corps to rebuild the station, including paying for it. The Corps built the Neptune Beach station in ?. I mean we paid for materials and our members laid the block, and did everything else. The Corps refused to pay for repairs, and Marshall Jarboe said “Fine, you’re not guarding Neptune Beach any more”.
We provided volunteer guards on Sundays for Mayport Naval Station, Seminole Beach/North Atlantic Beach (now Hanna Park), Atlantic Beach, Neptune Beach, and Jax Beach. In return, our members had exclusive rights to the seasonal jobs of guarding Monday through Saturday. The Corps staff would pick the Captain and Lieutenant for each beach twice a year for Jax Beach (Winter and Summer), and once a year for the other beaches. The Captains would pick who they wanted to work for them. The civil service position of Jax Beach Captain began in 1994, but that’s another story.
Side note: Buddy Gordon, who graduated from Fletcher with me in 1965, was not a Corps member, but sat Neptune Beach with the paid beach patrol in 1964. His dad was a judge of some sort. In those days of smaller towns, there were less requirements to be a judge or Justice of the Peace, or other quasi legal positions. The Corps did not like this, but Judge Gordon insisted and Marshall Jarboe went along. Jimmy Jarboe, a Corps member and the Marshall’s son, was the Captain of the Neptune Beach lifeguards in 1965. I have heard that Jimmy was sick for his Corps initiation (who wasn’t?) and never participated or ran the belt line.
Our tower flags were made for many years by Martina Rasmussen. She sewed them by hand and donated them as needed to the corps. Beach patrol and the corps used and still use the same flags (not Mrs. Rasmussens any more). Mrs. Rasmussen was the only woman at the 75th annual banquet in 1986, There is a photo of her and a special mention in the 75th commemorative report. When I came back in 1993, our flags were commercially made. They only lasted a few months before they were literally blown to shreds. Around 1995, we went to parachute material. I don’t know what we are currently using.
The Corps in some way ran afoul of all the other beaches and lost their patronage. Even though we saved them money, at some point we became more trouble than we were worth, and we parted ways. There may have been some politics involved, similar to when the Corps lost the Beach Patrol in Jax Beach in the 1950’s for several years. May I once more mention that the Corps does not own the station or the land it occupies, and we could lose both if things went south. (Which they did in the Spring of 2022)
Anyone with more information can contact me and I will fill in the blanks.
There was no Winter Beach Patrol in Jax Beach in the winter of 1964. I don’t remember exactly when, but I was sitting in class at Fletcher, and over the loudspeaker I heard, “Chip Wolfe, John Wolfe, David Stearns, report to the Dean’s office”. It was a proud moment, as we were all Corps Boys, and everyone in the school heard us being called. Corps Boys were highly respected throughout Jacksonville, which is one reason I joined. (The girls especially liked us, although their mothers and fathers, and boyfriends, not so much.) The Ponte Vedra Club had called Fletcher to ask for help with a missing swimmer in front of the club. Chip, John, and I went to the station, and drove down 3rd Street and old A1A (now Ponte Vedra Boulevard) to the club with the siren on and red light flashing. The Corps had a 1960 Ford step side truck with a 292 V-8 and 3 speed manual shift on the column. We were in our glory, 16 years old, flying down the road, on a mission. We had trailered our surfboat, which was commonly used for rescues, and put in in front of the club. We rowed around for several hours, but never found anyone. RIP, his body washed up the next day. We went back to the station and washed the truck, trailer, and dory. I don’t remember if we went back to school.
Fist fights:
I moved to a new school in the summer before the 7th grade. The boy sitting behind me in homeroom thought it would be fun to pester me. I was brought up to behave, (and fear authority) so all I did was ask him to quit. He was smaller than me, but from the other side of the tracks, and wasn’t concerned about going to the dean’s office. He got under my skin and soon held a psychological advantage over me. I avoided him and his friends, who soon joined in the fun. They were sons of commercial fishermen and a pretty rough bunch. They were only in school because the law made them. We were twelve and thirteen years old. Some were a little older, having failed a grade or two in grammar school. This went on for the entire seventh grade year.
I stewed about this situation over the summer break. I always thought of myself more as John Wayne and less like Gabby Hayes. I made up my mind not to take any more harassment, despite the consequences. The first time my tormentor approached me in the 8th grade I challenged him to a fist fight in an alley behind the local drugstore. He was surprised and agreed to a fight. He was smaller than me and I was sure I could beat him, which I did. Of course, his gang of hoodlum friends were there, but didn’t jump on me after the fight. Even hoodlums had a code of honor then, in 1960.
That wasn’t the end of it as soon after I had to fight an older, bigger friend of my foe. He beat me but not too bad. This time there was a crowd of two or three dozen there to watch. This was a scheduled fight after school and was talked about all day beforehand.
For several years on I had fist fights with various classmates, once over a girl. I didn’t like fighting (well maybe a little) and wasn’t very good at it. I really admired my classmates who were good fighters. Later on I took martial arts, but still wasn’t a very good fighter. I have been in some fifty fist fights over the years, (and have the dental records to prove it), none recently, thank goodness. I have avoided some fights and have backed out of some and hopefully won’t have any more in this lifetime. The best punch to use in a street fight is a jab. Keep your guard up and your elbows in. February 7, 2023
