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EVERYBODY’S DANISH – Poly High – Friends
By fred | June 18, 2009
In Everybody’s Danish we will now begin your old Uncle Fred’s memories of Poly High – they will be very long – some of you may find this boring. Sorry, as a teen to me, my three years at Poly high was almost a magical experience.
When I entered Poly I was a kid with little self-confidence, little feeling of self-worth, in three short years the kids at Poly High gave me so much. They gave me respect, they gave me confidence and their friendship.
They honored me by electing me their varsity team football co- captain, I almost cried when they honored me with that. To me it was worth all the dislocated shoulders, dislocated thumb, broken noses, water on the knee, sprained ankles all the pain, to me it was worth it.
My classmates elected me as their senior president. Poly high gave me Sally my wife, my lover – we will have been married 60 years next year.
Poly high gave me friends that have stood the test of years, most of my friends of that period I have known for well over 60 years. So you will have to bare with me – you will have to sweat with me as I sat against that cool cellar locker room wall, all taped up ready to play, scared, scared to death. Oh, not of playing, scared that I would screw up, drop a pass, miss a block, not score, whatever, I could think up all kinds of awful things to do in front of all those fans, my girl. Once the hitting started all that was forgotten, but I will never forget those minutes that seemed like hours before a game, so scared so worried. Funny what you remember most about high school sports, to me it was the awful waiting for the game to start.
But first, we have to get to know some friends of mine from back in those days so long ago in the distant past.
CHAPTER (BEST HIGH SCHOOL BUDDIES)
I don’t know who your best buddy was, or is, but one of my very best is a guy by the name of Hugo Velasquez. Hugo entered my life in my junior year at John H. Francis Polytechnic High school – Poly High for short. It was the year 1946 and Hugo has been a part of it for 63 years, a long, long time, exceeding the total lifespan of many of our old friends and teammates. He has been not only a best friend but the best man at Sally and my wedding in 1950. Sally says she has her doubts that we would have married without his intervention – but as they say, “That is another story.”
First, let’s discuss what a best buddy is or is not at least my ideas related to this subject. My idea of a best buddy is one you figure you can count on to be for you through thick and thin. Here is a little test you can do, just answer yes or no to each question.
1. If you needed help, would he or she be there for you? We are talking major help here, be something that may change his or her lifestyle, finances, etc.
2. Can you talk to your best buddy, and will he or she listen, really listen to your concerns?
3. Will your best buddy share his or her private life with you, deepest secrets?
4. Would he or she be able to keep a secret that would be embarrassing to you if —others knew about it? (THE BIG TEST IS) —Would he or she keep that secret even if he or she was mad at you for some reason?
I could add a whole bunch of stuff to the above, but I think you get the message. If your answer is ‘no’ to any of the above, you do not have a best buddy, you have person you maybe like, or someone you are acquainted with. I hate to tell you this, but you do not have a ‘best buddy.’
Best buddy’s come in all sizes, mine is a large size – six feet tall, stocky, and with age getting even more so. Used to have a good head of black hair, now it is all white, a round moon face, good looking, at least the girls always thought so. Hugo had blown off one finger to the first joint and the piece of another on his left hand when he was a little kid playing with fireworks. He has an ever so slight nervous tick that shows up; especially if he is excited about something – and a smile that beats sunshine.
He had the perfect body for a guard on the high school football team. If he had a weakness it was his legs. Now there was nothing the matter with his legs, damn good looking, I’m sure. It’s just that they were not quite as thick as the rest of him. I remember if he got hurt it was usually an ankle would get sprained. A lot of guards have legs that look like fireplugs – Hugo’s legs were normal size.
Sorry, I forgot one thing in describing my best buddy, and that is his heart. I have to say his heart was at least as big as he is, maybe bigger.
It is almost impossible to remember the exact time or place that I first met Hugo. He was a year behind me at Poly. He showed up his freshman year for Varsity football, he was just there, we seemed to like the same guys, and we just drifted together like that was the way it was met to be.
Comfortable, sounds like a sort of funny word to describe a buddy, but it’s true. I guess the reason we were so close is that he was just comfortable for me to be with and he seemed to think the same about me. You may be a little tense with some other guys, careful of how you acted, trying to make an impression on them for some reason. Not with Hugo, hell you could relax, just be you, just be comfortable. A friend that never asked the impossible from you – just accepted you for what you were.
My early childhood friend, from before that period, Marvin Voss, had moved away. Kids going to Trinity Lutheran the junior high school I had gone to, came from all over town, I had no friends there and few would be going Poly High, in fact I don’t think any of them did.
Most of the guys and gals going to Poly High come from the nearby Berendo Junior high and already knew each other. My first days of high school were somewhat lonesome, as I knew hardly anyone, while all the rest already had their friends from Berendo.
Fortunately, it was not difficult for me to get to know people, especially guys. Being brought up among all the Danes, and waiting on customers in the store since I was ten years old probably had something to do with it. Actually, it was easier for me to meet adults than kids my age. One ace in the hole was that I went out for football.
The first year at Poly I mostly hung out with two guys, John Brewer, we called him “JB” for short – and Edward Bravo. Ed was a year ahead of John and I. This was and still is a really class guy. Ed had transferred from a school in Brackenridge, Texas. I bring this up because somebody sure knows how to coach football in Brackenridge.
Ed said that all the high school teams in Texas were very well coached. He said they had coaches in high school for every position. The tackles had a coach and the guards had a coach, the halfbacks and so forth. You have to have a big turnout and sell a hell of a lot of tickets to pay for all of that. In the town of Brackenridge – high school football was very big time. They were ‘sold out’ for every game.
High School football was a big deal in Texas. Ed said they would have thousands of people to every game. The whole damn town would be there. In Los Angeles, at least in the 1940’s, you got a few parents of the players, and four or five hundred of the student body and that was it. Maybe a champion ship game would bring out a full house, but not for regular games.
Ed Bravo became starting right tackle immediately, he knew blocks and stuff we never heard of. He became a very good friend. He helped me a lot, gave me a lot of private instruction as a buddy, as a senior I think I was about as good a football player as a guy could be in high school, I think Ed was responsible for that. Ed spent hours teaching me how to block properly. I also remember one Spanish class I would have flunked if old Ed had not spent time on our walks home going over my Spanish lessons with me.
The problem with Ed was that as neat a guy as he was, he was always a very private person. You always felt he was a friend, hell, I knew he would do most anything for friends – but there was also a side of him that was kept in reserve, so you could never completely relax with him.
As great a guy as Ed was, you could not tell your inter most thoughts to him, at least I could not. Ed was a very proud, reserved kind of guy, a guy that would help you, do anything for you, but was just to reserved, a little too private a person, to let you completely into his life. Big Ed is still alive, as a kid he was my idol, taught me so much, as a man I still admire him greatly although we disagree often politically.
John, old JB, was another buddy, and went out for the football team. John was extremely intelligent, a very quick wit. John was good company and could be a lot of fun to be around, except for one thing. John and I always seemed to be competing for Ed Bravo’s attention. Foolish? Yes, it was, but for some reason during our high school years this seemed to be the factor that comes between us. Also I could not trust JB, if he got pissed at you he would tell something to all that he knew was told to him in private, as a friend. You soon learned to tell JB little of your private secrets. With Ed Bravo or Hugo they would never think of broadcasting your life to others – at the age of 15 to 18 as young as that, they were guys you could trust.
Then Hugo arrived at Poly high. Hugo was a year and a half behind me in school. He is only two months younger – his being behind was his starting school later, he had a childhood illness that held him back. I can tell you it certainly had nothing to do with his brains, he always got good grades, an honor student. He is also very outgoing, could mix with any crowd, especially the girls.
So here you have a young man like me, fairly good looking, at least the girls seemed interested, but I had little knowledge of how to act with them, or in any environment that included them. Oh, there had been dates in junior high school. Holding hands, a quick kiss on the steps of the girls house after a date. I remember sweating about what to do, or not to do. I really wonder how much fun I had. Girls were exciting, exciting to be around, but decidedly not relaxing to be around at least in those days.
It seems to me that the early dates were really awful in some ways – the worry about would she let me put my arm around her at the picture show? Should I hold her hand? Does she like me? Can I kiss her good night? All the things were of major importance! When I think back on those dates, I often wonder how in the hell a kid had any fun with all those major worries – why go through all that when it was such a trial. Ha! Being young – the desire – the lustful thoughts – lets just say when one date was over you wanted another – maybe she would give you a kiss! Even the thought of that made you try for another date.
With no guidance from anyone my age, was it any wonder I was a little shy around the ladies. The girls at Poly did not realize how shy I was, my classmates, especially the girls figured I was conceited. This title seemed to hang on to me all through high school. They honored me in our senior year by voting me senior class president of our 330 odd class of S-47 and I won the title of ‘most conceited’ in the senior class, hands down. How wrong they were.
The girls would say “Fred, you never say hi, when we see you in the hall,” or something like that. I would always make some excuse. How do you tell some gorgeous sweet young thing that this big two hundred pound guy was worried to death that if I said “Hi” that they would not respond.
Then when Hugo entered my life, he sort of unconsciously took over my learning to relate to the female sex. Hugo had two younger sisters, very attractive young girls. Girls were not a big deal to Hugo. He had no preconceived ideas about them. Where I put every girl on a big pedestal, Hugo’s outlook was that they were just part of the human race. A very attractive and exciting part to be sure, but still human.
Hugo always seemed relaxed around the ladies, he was on a friendly footing with everyone. Girls would tell him stuff to tell guys like me that were sometime to tongue tied to talk to them. Hugo, being over a year behind me in school was several years ahead of me in dealing with the female element. (I have to insert here that to show you just how popular Hugo was at Poly High with all the ladies AND the guys – the 2,300 odd student body of Poly High elected him Associated Student Body President his senior year. The highest honor students can bestow on a fellow student.)
Say if a guy and a girl ‘broke up’ from ‘going steady’, often they would be anything but friends. Guys would be bitter if the girl dumped them for another guy or vice versa. Not with Hugo – ex girl friends of his were always still friends. How the hell he did it I just don’t know. Hugo was just comfortable with girls, where many of the rest of us guys were not.
My folks were darn nice about me using the family car. We still lived behind the store. The store was right across the street from the Danish Hall, a big part of Dad and Moms social lives was right there. Sundays, Dad would go to soccer football games, and on some weekends visit family or friends, but for the important Friday and Saturday nights the family car was mine to use.
Hugo and I would double date, the back seat of the car was his territory exclusively. After dates we would go to a drive-in on the corner of Vermont and Wilshire. Usually we would sit in the car and order hamburgers, cokes, or malts. We would check out the money first, if I had money and he didn’t we went, if I was broke, and he had money we went.
We would sit there for hours talking. We used to drive the car hops crazy, staying so long. Fortunately at that time of night business was slow so they let us stay. They sure as hell did not let us stay because we were such big tippers. Money was tight, and we counted it out very carefully. What did we talk about all that time?
Beats the hell out of me! I know we carefully dissected our dates. Did she like me, or him? Who is going with whom? How can girls be discussed for hour after hour? Beats the hell out of me – I do remember that was the biggest topic of conversation.
Football games were carefully gone over, hearsay about the next team we would be playing. Such and such we hear made out with so and so. Again, we were back to girls. Grades, coaches that chewed us out – who will get a football letter – who will be asked to join the Cavaliers from the new arriving students.
Hell, Hugo and I discussed everything from pimples, athletes foot, jock itch, the latest fashion, where to buy our letterman’s sweater, where we should take our dates next, would so and so go out with us if we asked? What was playing at the picture show? What our Dads were doing. Stuff about our families – who were going to whose house this next weekend. We could sit in the car sipping a coke for hours.
All very important stuff, serious stuff, much of it very private, what we wanted in life, what we wanted to make of ourselves, I never had conversations like this with anyone else as a kid. All I can say is that if either one of us was the kind of guy to want to hurt the other he sure had enough ammunition to really ‘stick it to em.’
In later life I got a huge bonus marrying Sally, her brother Jack W. Anderson was another, just like Hugo, so I guess you could say and be right – no major decision in my life was not first discussed with either of them. Both Hugo and Jack I consider even more than blood brothers, soul mates, friends for life. As a senior a couple others have arrived, Eddie Saraffian for one – God has blessed me – and I thank him for that blessing of having friends.
Tell Hugo something very private, secret, something that could embarrass you if discussed in public, and it would stay private. He could get mad as hell at me, and once in a while for some reason he would tick me off, but to put each other down, no way. This is a best Buddy. Find one like that and you are damn lucky.
If we were not visiting family or friends of the folks on Sunday, we would often spend the day together. Hugo would go with me to my Lutheran church, and belt out ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ with the rest of us Lutherans. He knew when to get up and when to sit. I would go to Catholic service with him and knew when to get up and when to kneel.
If he was at my place he would stay for dinner. The folks would usually have a roast, something Danish, with enough mashed potatoes to fill an army. At Hugo’s house, his mother would fix some Mexican food because she knew I loved the stuff.
I do remember once, it turned out to be a little embarrassing. We were having Sunday dinner at Hugo’s house. Everyone was there, his mom and dad, his two younger sisters, and his younger brother. The meal was quite spicy, hot if you know what I mean. I popped off about how I could eat ‘real’ Mexican food, or something equally stupid. His sisters started to giggle.
Now anything I hated in those days was girls giggling. I always figured I was the one they were giggling about. This time I was right – then the whole family started laughing, especially my best buddy.
Hugo’s Dad also had a smile on his face and said, “Well Fred, actually mother takes care to sort of tone things down for you.” Boy my face was red. His mom had gone to a lot of trouble to prepare special dishes on my visits – toned down stuff just for me.
Could we eat in those days – Hugo and I, just a couple of big six foot teen age kids. What a capacity for food. If football practice was over early, we would often stop at Hugo’s house for a ‘tiny snack’ before I would head for home and dinner in an hour or so.
With Hugo, his brother, and Hugo’s sisters, all hungry kids, Hugo’s Mom always had a huge crock on the small center pilot light the old gas stoves used to have. The crock was always filled with delicious warm beans. Hugo would pull some quarts of milk out of the ‘fridge,’ grab a bunch of tortillas for us, and we would wrap those wonderful beans in a tortilla, and shove it down – followed by glass after glass of ice cold milk.
I look back on those ‘snacks’ as some of the best food I ever ate. The thing that I can’t understand is how either one of us could possibly eat anything else for at least seven or eight hours. We would eat at least six or seven of those big homemade bean burritos – just the two of us left that big crock more than half empty many a day.
After a quart of milk apiece, I would say, “See you tomorrow, Hugo,” and off I would go to my house. Now my house was about six blocks away, and usually I walked. So lets say about a half an hour later I was home. Shortly after, Grandma or Mom would have a big dinner ready for the family. Was I hungry, you bet. Grandma or Mom would feel my forehead to see if I was sick if I did not eat at least two huge heaping helpings of everything, plus one or two desserts. At Hugo’s house I don’t think he left anything on his dinner plate after our little ‘snacks’ either.
As kids and as adults it is hard for anyone else to get in a word edgewise when we are together. Hugo and I are always talking. How in the hell could we have so much to say. It comes from being with someone you can talk to – being with a guy that you can say anything to. I never had to worry about telling that guy any thing.
Trust, if you have a buddy like that, you can trust him to listen, and be on your side. Sounds easy, but is it? How many have a buddy like that? Someone that you can lay it all out to, and have complete trust that that person will never betray that trust – I learned later in life that having guys like Hugo and Jack, just how lucky I was. I was told by others that they never had a friend like that.
Everyone one of us has deep concerns and feelings about stuff. The problem is most of us having to keep that bottled up. You just can’t ‘spit it out’ to just anyone. A lot of your private concerns are maybe about things that many would kid you about, make you feel foolish. Yet you do have these concerns, who do you talk to? Talk, by the way, is one of man’s best therapies, a proven fact of life.
Out of hundreds of friends in life I have had just two guys that would honor that trust, that would listen, not laugh, always try to understand, they are Hugo and my brother in law, Jack. In my elder years I have been fortune, probably more fortunate than most because I can add to these two a few names of my guys that will be there for me no matter what, Ed Saraffian heads that list, others like the Fuzz Fazekas, Tommy Irvine, and a few others – these guys have stood the test of years, and there are a few ladies, well lets leave it with guys for now.
Here I am only talking about buddies. Fortunately, I have been blessed with a wife that is not only a wife, the love of my life, but a friend I can talk to about anything, no matter how little it may be, if she knows it is a real concern of mine we just talk it out. I know a lot of guys that can’t talk to their wives about their private concerns. What a shame. How much they have missed in life. I have two wonderful sons that also can be talked to. They would never ‘stick it to the old man’ they have always been there for me – they are not only sons, but true best buddies.
After I got out of the Army I married Sally Anderson, my high school sweetheart. Who did I ask to be the best man at our wedding? You got it, best buddy, Hugo. Who the hell else would I ask? The other best buddy, to be, in my life – Jack – he gave the bride away at the wedding. It was his sister.
At our wedding reception Hugo presented us with the most beautiful set of silver dinner ware you have ever seen. All in a beautiful wood velvet lined box. We still have it, treasure it, and use it for special company.
Do you have any idea how tough it was for a kid still in high school to make the kind of money it took to pay for a gift like that? I found out that he spent all summer cleaning office buildings until the wee hours of the mornings. He did not tell me I found out from a mutual friend.
The gift he gave Sally and I represented a big part of his summer wages. A best buddy, if you have one half as good, take good care of him or her as they are like finding a diamond in a creek bed full of stones. You do not get many chances in life to have that sort of ‘best buddy.’
After attending my Fifty Year High School class reunion, the class that I was senior president of, a group of us that were just casual acquaintances in high school decided to just keep in touch. Out of that I have developed some very warm friendships by mail and by e-mail. Hugo and Jack will without a doubt be number one but these warm loving guys and gals do not trail far behind. In school with studies, practicing and playing football, your school social club, trying to keep a girl friend entertained and happy, working to have some money for dates, you just do not have the time to have a huge group of close friends. Now with retirement, I have had the time, and found some more ‘diamonds’ – friends from my days at old Poly High, teammates and classmates – old friends now renewed that I would not give up for anything.
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