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EVERYBODY’S DANISH – Back to Poly High
By fred | September 9, 2009
MY BUDDIES TOOK CARE OF THE PROBLEMS
Poly High was considered a very tough school, in the central area of the city of Los Angeles. Some students from other schools that were not from as mixed an interracial student body as ours seemed to think we were all some kind of monsters, or criminals. Say you were from L. A. Poly High and the looks you would get were really funny. You could almost tell that they were thinking, “When is he going to bring out that switch blade?” In those three years I remember very little rough stuff, in my three years actually only three incidents.
Oh, maybe a couple of fist fights behind the gym or behind Simons Drive in restaurant across from Poly High, a favorite hangout of Poly kids. It was usually over a girl – they were usually stopped before anyone got hurt too bad. Only once did I ever see a ‘switch blade razor used in a fight among kids. During my senior year, a couple of our black guys got into it once. They both had the darn things in their hands, and were starting to circle each other. They were both on the football team and real likable guys – I can’t think to this day what it was all about. I talked to one of the guys a few days later and he just would not talk about it.
We were yelling at them to ‘forget it,’ and stop the fight. What we were afraid of was getting in the middle of the two to stop it ourselves. A fistfight we could step in and stop, that was easy but a razorblade fight– forget it!
Our little football coach, Voyle Brennan had been attracted by the crowd, because all of a sudden he was between the two. “Charles, Alfred, give me those things, get over to Mr. Franklin’s office at once!” he said. Charles and Alfred handed coach the razors, and sort of looked at the ground, shuffling their feet – guts, coach sure had it, Charles and Alfred, both heads down marched across the field and over to the Administration building to face the dreaded boys vice principal, Mr. Franklin.
Other than John Brewer ‘J.B’ for short, and a couple of others, most of my very closest friends at Poly were Mexican Americans. Looking back, I have to say they are lifelong friends. Hugo Velasquez, Ed Bravo, Ray Lopez, Louie Gongora to mention only a few, real friends, the kind that will go the distance for you, if you know what I mean.
During the mid 1940’s Los Angeles was experiencing a lot of trouble with a group of guys called ‘Pacheco’s.’ These were mainly a very tough bunch of either Mexican born or American born Mexican guys. These were not guys to mess around with, especially when there was a group of them. They wore a funny looking outfit. The pants were extremely full, and pegged at the ankles. They also wore a dress coat that was almost to their knees, and a big felt hat. Sounds funny, but if you saw a bunch of these guys you had better damn well be careful, they could be very dangerous. They carried knives, razors, and maybe a ‘Saturday night special.’ Groups of these guys were causing trouble all over Los Angeles and especially in the downtown area and the poorer east-side areas of the city.
I remember one day we got a gang of these ‘zoot’ suit guys in the front of Poly, looking for trouble. It was just as school was letting out. A bunch of us, all of the above, Johnny Brewer, myself, and several others not of Mexican descent, were going to get rid of the bastards, we didn’t want em around our school causing trouble, they were already making crude Mexican language remarks to many of our ladies, a lot of which were Mexican American girls and understood the crap they were handing out.
Ray Lopez and Ed Bravo said to John and I and the other non-Mexican Americans, “You guys stay here, we will take care of these guys, they are ‘our’ people and we would rather you guys stay out of it.”
Well, there was no way we were going to leave our buddies alone – in the first place they were badly outnumbered. We followed Ed’s instructions and stayed at the corner of the building, and watched. If Ed, Ray, Hugo and our other Mexican American buddies got in trouble we would be able to get there fast, and help them.
It looked like Ray and Ed did the talking, it looked like it was getting kind of heated, when Ed pointed down the block (away from Poly) and started for them with Ray and about four or five our Mexican American Poly guys followed him. Those dozen or so zoot suitors were backing up fast. They eventually were walking off at a rather fast pace. I can tell you that Ed and Ray alone would make me nervous if they were really pissed off, and came for you, especially my buddy Big Ed Bravo, much less being backed up with a few friends. Two to one odds not withstanding, were not enough, and the zoot suitors decided that there must be other places to cause trouble, without having to face guys like this.
Ed and Ray, and the rest of my Mexican American friends, stood at the street edge of Poly High’s front area watching until they were out of sight, never, after that did these guys show up at Poly High. I think back that if a bunch of us that were ‘not’ Mexican Americans had tried to get rid of them, it would have probably lead to razors and fists, and a big race fight. Ed and Ray and the guys telling them to shove off, in my opinion put Poly ‘off limits’ to them. Their ‘guts’ to face the situation head on probably saved our High School a ton of trouble.
My old buddy, John Brewer ‘J.B.’, reminded me that the same thing happened after football practice one day. A bunch of Afro American guys, about ten of them, none of them from Poly came in the back gate looking for trouble. It was the end of football practice – we had been standing around talking just getting ready to go in and shower before going home. We were going to run them off, but big Jim Burton, a big tough halfback on our team in my junior year, said, “You white boys stay out of this, we’ll take care of it.”
All of the black guys on the team walked over to those guys and must have told them to shove off. The bunch slowly walked out the back gate, one guy gave our guys the finger, but that was it. All of our black players just watched them walk away. Again, because it was ‘their’ people, a war was not declared. Again, because of the ‘guts’ of a few, a line was drawn, and elements that were trying to come into our turf and cause trouble were advised that they came to Poly at their own risk. The risk was from guys of their own race, color of skin, or religion. I never once remember any trouble between any of us guys and we were one heck of a mixture or damn near every race and color on the face of the earth. We got along fine and developed life long relationships, we just did not want outsiders to be mixing in and causing trouble. My lifelong Poly buddies are from every race, color or religion and I would never trade em for a million bucks.
THOSE INCREDIBLE GIRLS
High school was a time to learn to relate to each other. Now most of us males seemed to be able to work things out among ourselves, but for many of us the female sex was a complete mystery, oh, certainly one we all wanted to explore, but still a mystery. As boys, young men, if you will, we would often try to act ‘cool,’ somewhat aloft – actually we were scared to death of those curvy, delicious looking girls.
I really think that the average junior high or high school girl of the same age as a boy is about ten years ahead of him in any of this relationship stuff, also they were very good a creating ‘situations’ that would serve there purposes.
My wife Sally tells a story about one of her girl friends and Herb Temple. Now Herb was one good-looking guy, the old bastard now a retired Lt. General of the Army may say he still is, but we are not talking about white hair and old duffers here. Herb had the same problem as the rest of us guys, he was shy about starting any relationship with girls. Sally’s friend had a real crush on Herb.
This little lady, Sally’s friend, was also some doll. Genevieve Cote’ was her name. She became my ‘steady’ girl friend through most of my senior year, so you might say Herb’s loss was my gain. Genevieve was a very tiny, very cute, little strawberry blond. Herb had to be crazy to miss his chance.
Life is crazy, you go with a girl, then, marry her best girl friend. High school was a testing ground, a learning to live, learning to love time. Oh, it was deadly serious at the time, you had better believe it. When Genevieve broke up with me, because Sally told me later, I had shot my mouth off once too often. I was heartbroken, it took many months for me to realize I had lost her, so don’t tell your teenage his love is ‘puppy’ love, to him or her it is the love of a life time. I have to insert here that Gen and her husband Bob have been lifetime friends – Bobby got himself one whale of a lovely lady.
Anyway on this particular day, Sally and Genevieve were walking up the stairs to a second story class, and they glanced down the stair well and Herb was rushing up the steps, taking two at a time. When Herb was almost up to them, Genevieve dropped her books on the steps – they flew all over the place, Herb, just stepped around the mess and continued on his way.
Sally was sure that her friend had purposely dropped her books, hoping Herb would stop and help her pick them up, Sally was right, and she said she was infuriated that Genevieve had made such a mess, and for such a stupid reason. After picking up the books and papers, they just barely got to their class on time. Genevieve was mad as hell at Herb, something that Herb had no idea about. Herb missed his big chance and didn’t even know it although Herb got himself another of Poly’s beauties, a real sweetheart of a gal by the name of Pat Reilly as his one and only, still has her, has to be well over sixty years now – but that is another story.
I heard this tale fifty years later, after our Fifty-Year Class Reunion. Herb Temple was at the reunion, and had retired as a Lt. General of the Army. After I flew back, I gave Sally a full report about the reunion, and what had happened to a lot of our friends and acquaintances over those years. I mentioned something like, “Old Herb retired as a general – an officer and gentlemen.”
Sally laughed, and I said, “What’s so funny?”
Then she related this story, she ended by saying, “I hope Herb has improved on the gentlemen part.”
I related it to Herb on one of many weekly e-mail exchanges, he said that he figured as he got older he finally got over the shy stuff, and figured he hopefully improved on the gentlemen part too. He was also shocked that he had missed this opportunity to ‘make time’ with a very attractive lady.
Problem with guys in those distant days, most were afraid of rejection, hurt their pride, so they just never asked the girl of their dreams for a date, stupid, but it is the truth, the girls were far more mature about these games between the sexes than we were.
Also guys were not always so swift related to what I call ‘girl talk’ – with ladies ya have to think a bit. Say a guy at Poly Hi finally, after weeks of building up his courage finally asks a girl for a date. The girl would like to go, — but really can’t due to some family obligation, the guy does not know this – so if she says ‘no I can’t go it’ he thinks automatically it is him she is rejecting, stupid but very true, so the girl has to think fast to save the situation. She may quick jump in and say – “BUT, I am free next week.”
In those days, except for their senior prom, a girl would never ask a guy for a date, not unless they were going steady and had been for some time, it just wasn’t done. Many of the hottest, sweetest, beautiful, lip smacking gorgeous ladies at Poly High were home on Friday and Saturday night just because the guys figured they would not go out with them if asked. The truth, my wife was one of those, the May Day Beauty Queen of Poly High and she named off many of her friends that often never had a date, just for that reason. I remember several of my best buddies had crushes on Sally, both could not figure how she fell for a square head like me – when asked if they asked her for a date both said, “Oh, she wouldn’t go out with me, she is too popular, too super.”
However when I asked Sally if she would have dated them, she said “I sure would, both were really nice boys.” So there you have it. If you want something in life, don’t fear rejection, rejection can’t hurt you – and hey, you may get lucky like me and get yourself a super lady, the lady of your dreams. I had the guts to ask and now in a few months will celebrate 60 years with her. Luck has not a damn thing to do for it. Go for your dream, to win you gotta try first!
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