Synopsis - Chapter 11
September 1967 - November 1967
This was the beginning of the end of a chapter in my life. Of course I didn't know it at the time, one job, home, relationship, school, etc., just seemed to move to the next. As I look back this was a threshhold time for me.
Summer Beach Patrol was over and the Lifesaving Corps staff picked me for Captain of the Winter Beach Patrol and picked John Landon to be my lieutenant. I had served 4 years and had been an instructor and made 2 rescues and several assists. I taught lifeguard training at the Carver Center when there was a pool there. I was initiation chairman several times and had generally been a good Corps member. I wasn't in school and wasn't scheduled to go active in the US Navy Reserves until 1968 sometime. The staff was trying to reward me and help me along in life.
George and I were living in our rundown 2nd story apartment on 1st Street across from the Ramada Inn. Rent was only $60 a month. George was going to Central Adult High School downtown. He was 17. Our good friend, Herman Brame, was also attending Central Adult. Summer was over and things were starting to get boring, so when Herman told me he was going to California, I asked him if I could go too. As I was dropping off George at Central Adult, one October morning, I told him Herman and I were going to San Diego and stay with George Nobbs. George said he was going too, so we turned my VW around and headed back to the beach. Within a few days, we had packed a few things, stored a few things with Jack and Elda McMann, I withdrew the $100 I had in my bank account, I used to have the cancelled check somewhere. I borrowed a 22 single shot, bolt action rifle from Steve Joca for protection, he probably gave me some shells too. I gave my Rescue Pin to George Garcia for safekeeping. I forgot what I did with it later, and George returned it to me in 1998. If you saved someone's life and filled out the Red Cross paperwork, you received a certificate of merit signed by the sitting president (mine was Lyndon Johnson) and a very nice rescue lapel pin. I lost the certificate of merit, but later recreated it on the computer (actually Karen did), using one of the Wolf twins' certificates and my information. The Red Cross didn't have a record of it on file.
Herman had @ $150, I had @ $100, and George was broke. I don't think he got a job after the lifeguard season was over. Herman's Mother, Alice, rented a small U-Haul trailer for us and I guess they installed a bumper hitch on the VW. I don't remember there being one on before. You don't tow much behind a 36 HP VW. We were young and naive, and loaded Herman's Honda 90, my Honda 50, Herman's surfboard, and whatever else in the trailer and set off to seek our fortune in California. Alice gave George $50. We drove straight through on I-10. The plan was that one person would drive, one would ride shotgun and talk to the driver, and one would sleep in the back seat. There wasn't much sleeping as the back seat was small and uncomfortable (although I did squeeze in a few make out sessions with girls back there). After a day we were all sleep deprived and irritable. We made it in 53 hours, though, which is pretty good time to go coast to coast for anyone. We stopped once in the desert to ride our bikes and take a break. Herman rode down a gulley and just made it up the other side. My bike was smaller and I didn't think I could make it. Herman encouraged me until I gave it a try. I should have known better. I made it about half way up the other side and slid back down to the bottom, where I was greeted by a 6 foot rattlesnake. That Herman, he's such a prankster! We also shot a coyote standing in the middle of the highway one night. I feel guilty about that now, but at the time I felt like coyotes were bad and it was ok to kill them. We passed the coyote and turned around about 50 yards away. The coyote just stood there looking at us. I loaded Steve's 22 and dropped him with one shot. We actually draped his body across the fender of our trailer for a hundred miles or so until we thought better of it and disposed of the carcass on the side of the road. We were on a 2 lane highway. I-10 wasn't complete yet.
We got stopped by a California Highway Patrolman in the mountains just outside of San Diego. George was only 17 and the trooper threatened to take George to Juvenile Hall. We had long hair and looked like hippies, who weren't popular in some circles. He asked us where we were going and we said North Mission Beach. He said "You'll fit in good there," and let us go. Cops in those days, especially in Southern California, would stop you if you looked like a hippy and "roust" you. I remember pulling up to the Pacific and parking. We sat there in awe of the smell of the ocean (definitely different than the Atlantic), and the 5-6 foot swell coming in. We couldn't believe we were actually there. It was like being in a dream. Driving across country takes a long time and sometimes you don't think you'll ever get there, especially driving through Texas. We watched a surfer paddle out and catch a few waves. We were in awe. I hadn't seen the Pacific since we lived in Hawaii in 1956.
We stayed with George Nobbs for a few days, maybe a week or so, and found our own place, a studio, down the street for $175 a month. I got a job washing dishes at a Denny's, I think, a few miles away via the freeway. George and Herman's job was to pick up girls, which they did. They weren't interested in working. George Nobbs worked as a cashier at Lucky's grocery store. We visited Nick and Barry Mirandon, who we slightly knew from Nick's visit to Jax in 1966, in La Jolla. They owned La Jolla surfboards. They were nice to us and loaned George and me surfboards to go surfing at Black's. We parked at Scripps Institute and walked the mile or so north down the rock strewn beach. The only other way to Black's was down a steep hillside directly above it. The waves were 4 to 6 feet and coming in nicely. The La Jolla boards were long and had forked tails. It seems like they were called Super Boards. Mine was a green metalflake. I got a few good rides. I hit kelp a couple of times and sailed off the front of my board. I misjudged the bottom of the waves a couple of times and coasted out in front of the curl and got creamed. The water was so clear, it was hard to judge where the bottom of the wave was to make your turn.
We rode our Hondas around and generally had a good time. My right stationary foot peg broke when I stood up crossing the railroad tracks at Del Mar. I came down hard on my personals, and it really hurt. I remember 2 Californians on very cool 305 Honda Scramblers laughing at Herman and me on our small bikes when we went to the Honda shop. I was embarassed and it didn't do my self esteem any good. I have never been able to live life as large as I would have liked, although I have had my moments.
Herman, George, and I are all in the Navy Reserves. We blew off our meetings in Jacksonville, at the center on Talleyrand Avenue, and figured we'd deal with the consequences later. I had some angst about this, but not enough to do anything about it. I checked back in with the Navy when we returned East and every thing was OK.
So we are going to go to a Love In at Balboa Park. A Love In for you non hippies is an informal get together with music, dancing, drugs, and hanging out. You don't bother getting a permit, you just put up a few posters and spread the word. Sometimes bands like the Dead or Jefferson Airplane or whoever spontaneously show up. Love Ins were sometimes called "Happenings". We drive to Tijuana the day of or the day before the Love In. Somebody goes in a drugstore and buys a bottle of 1000 5mg white cross methedrines for, I'm not making this up, $1.75. He puts it down his pants and we cross the border without incident. Herman is not so lucky the next year. A girl riding with him who had previously been busted, got out at the border coming back to the US, and pointed at Herman and said "That's him!" They had 2 kilos/bricks of pot stashed in the side door panels of a VW sedan. She busted Herman to get a lighter sentence for herself. Herman's girlfriend, Josie, dropped dead on the street in Mission Beach, walking with Larry Turner, while Herman was in prison. Mixing drugs to see what kind of high you could get was popular at the time. Herman's Mother, Alice, God bless her, got Herman released from Lompoc early, by calling Governor Reagan's offiice daily, until they got tired of hearing from her. Herman was released on parole to Florida in 1969. I remember he wore a big white cowboy hat until his hair grew out. Sorry for digressing: I take 3 white crosses before we go to Balboa Park. We get there and I'm not coming on, so I take 10 more. Long story short, I start coming on to those and decide if it feels that good I want some more, and ended up taking 10 more twice for a total of 33. If you know anything about pharmaceuticals, you know that this is way, way too many. The happening was fun, with bikers (real bikers, not Rolex riders, mean bastards), hippies, and a few cops. It was a lot of fun. There was music and dancing and hanging out with lots of different people. When we got home, I didn't sleep that night (duh) or the next 4 or 5 nights either. I went back to work a day or so later and took a few more 5mg methedrines to stay awake and work. I did this for a few days. At night, I lay in bed on my back and watched cartoons on the ceiling until daylight. I could have told you what was happening in the cartoons. I caught a few fitful naps but started feeling pretty bad. George and I drove home to Atlanta so I could recover at Mother and Dad's. George didn't stay long and went back to Florida. We got stopped by a Georgia cop not too far from Atlanta, and Dad had to come and pay our fine. It's hard to believe we were doing much speeding in a 36 HP VW, but we were probably going too fast through a small town. Herman stayed in Mission Beach and had adventures of his own. I left the Honda 50. We got some of our rent back before we left. We told the landlord our Grandmother died and we had to go home.
Byron Colley: I remember Herman Brame and I had both yours and your brothers [Herman's 90, my 50] Hondas when you guys left to come home back in 1967. We converted the Honda 90 to a dirt bike and would run that track across from Scripps Institute and left the 50 Super Sport for crusing around. What ever happened to George Knobbs [Nobbs], I never heard from him again after I left in 68. (June 28,2011)
February 22, 2010
Blacks Beach, San Diego
Surfed there on a La Jolla Super Board, loaned to me by Barry Mirandon in 1967. 5 foot waves so clear you couldn't tell where the bottom of the wave was. Lots of skeg catching seaweed. We walked in from Scripps. Saw Bill Andrews on that trip too - great guy RIP.
June 9, 2022
