DATELINE 5/30/1960 HERMOSA BEACH CA
MEMORIAL DAY IS MEMORIAL, DAY NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE.
Monday morning was cold and damp for that special morning in
Hermosa Beach. "Hap" stood at the door of his Jacobs'
Surfboard shop on Valley Drive, watching the early arrivals
preparing for their trip to Malibu. Dave Puissinger circled
his 1928 International Motor's Milk Wagon for final inspection, it's open bed decorated by Sparkle Eyes, Monkee, and Melinda
Lust, with red, white, and blue, balloons, crepe paper, and tassels dangling inward from the roof. Chubby Mitchell, Buddy
Boy Keohe, J.J.Moon, the real Tubesteak, with the three girls,
took their seat in the back, Puissinger, an Adolph Hitler
look-a-like, gunned the engine, cheers coming from the shop.
Chubby opened a gallon of Gorden's Gin, poured it into four
empty emptied orange juice cartons filled with ice, added
lots of grapefruit juice, stirred while the milk wagon headed north on Valley toward Malibu, followed by the procession
including Rick Hatch, Mike Searcy, Jim Whicker, Jackson
Snider, the Lovell Brothers, with balloons snapping in the
wind. The time was 8:00 AM. The entourage was Malibu bound.
Soon enough, they passed Playa del Rey, Venice, yelling at the bikers fighting in the Saucy Dog parking lot, this one leather shrouded long hair whipping his "woman" with a 12' bull whip.
From there they passed through the McClure Tunnel where
Olympic Blvd. empties onto PCH. As they pass Sunset Blvd.
they're feeling pretty good and pretty loud. By now the gin
was flowing real good. Soon enough, they passed The Sea Lion restaurant, victory was minutes away. Puissinger drove his
milk wagon passed the Pier toward the turn-around at Serra
Retreat Road, swung a Huey ,and amid of waiting beach
bums, who saved the #1 parking place at the foot of
the L.A.County Lifeguard tower, parked, revved the old engine,
quickly turned the key on and off causing a mass backfire
heard a mile away. Kemp Aaberg, lifeguard, reached for the
direct line to the Sheriff Station. The welcome committee
swarmed on the milk wagon like "flies on dogshit". With the
three girls and the drunks, all hell broke loose. Baby Alan
Gomes arrives, talks Buddy Boy into a chug-a-lug contest,
then things started to get out of hand. It's 11:30 AM, the
milk wagon is way overloaded, some of the gin drinkers are violently ill, Lifeguard Kemp could no longer handle things
called the Sheriff two miles down PCH, saying Guard needs
assistance. Aaberg hangs up turns in his tower to face the
spectacle below, shakes his head to and fro, sits down,
and waits. Thirty minutes later a black and white arrives
from the south, sees the disturbance, but has to go pass
the milk wagon to make the U turn. By then the revilers
abandon ship, scatter, when the Sheriff arrives the #1
parking spot is virtually empty, save for the milk wagon.
Aaberg looks at Sheriff with a sheepish grin of I'm sorry. Sheriff departs for headquarters. Peturbed at the
inconveniance, Ricky Hatch pours a can of Bardahl into
Searcy's Studebaker, starts the engine, and he has a smoke
bomb which blankets PCH, totally causing a complete gridlock.
Another call to Sheriff, who arrives late, and again the
milk wagon is abandoned. Sheriff looks up at Aaberg who
has the same sheepish grin. Amid all the smoke, in front
of the beach, Chubby Mitchell, 5'6'', 260 lbs., walks
through the cars to the PCH meridian, separating north and
south traffic, turns facing north, releases his laundry,
throws a wicked BA just as a back up CHP is driving north.
The bums are screaming, Chubby, the cops, get over here.
Chubby hikes his black Frisco jeans, just as a pack of black
and whites swarm the milk wagon. Chubby doesn't wait. He runs
straight for the water, ducks is head, and swims out,
his head looking like a seal. This was too much for the beach bums, the Sheriffs, and least of all, Kemp Aaberg. Everyone on the beach, including the CHP, broke out in laughter, Chubby
stole the show.
TUBESTEAK/EYEWITNESS