Sunday, September 6, 2020


1970 or so pic.

As promised - Cars and travel

Well, I didn't think I would start on this yet.  While it is beautiful here on the Jersey shore on Labor Day weekend, "social distancing" means there is not much going on.  So, recounting the past may be the most fun thing out there.

Cars start early - 1955-1960:


Three window coupe(s) 

“I know my coupe’s not the sharpest around, but everybody knows she’s the hottest in town..."
"I hold the track record in the quarter mile, with the low ET down that asphalt aisle.” Thanks, Jan and Dean, as well as the Rip Chords (Bruce Johnston, Terry Melcher); written by Jan Berry and Roger Christian, © 1964.  I'll connect this up below.



My first car was a 1936 Ford four-door sedan. Leigh Travis, Al Christensen (my two close high-school friends) and I bought the car for $15 dollars each, and took it apart piece by piece in the spring of 1955.  I don't think either of them went on to study engineering, but I was hooked.  No picture of it, though.

Then in early '56, I bought a '53 Ford convertible, dark green, and put on spinners and full fender skirts.  I racked it up in August '56, which taught me a great lesson, since I had to repair it.  I have no pictures, to my knowledge.  Since I couldn't have a car in college, I sold it in the summer of 1957.

That led to the coupes above, in 1958 and '59.  I found the '29 Chevrolet in rough shape in New Brunswick, NJ, adjacent to Route 1 in the spring of 1958, and towed it home with a chain. Over the next three months, I installed a tri-carb Oldsmobile motor in it.  The leftmost picture above shows me working on it in a tee shirt.  My dad is overseeing, as well as five or six neighborhood kids. It was never "the hottest in town," but it was a great education, as the pictures of it below (car at right on the drag strip) and timing card show.  When I found this old timing card last week, I had to add it.

The second car above (1934 Ford three window) is even more sentimental.  In the fall of 1958, I had sold the Chevy coupe, and I knew I needed to replace it.  So in February, 1959, I took two of my sisters on a great adventure.  They were stalwarts.  We drove the coupe home in icy snow.

What had happened was that we had found a classic '34 Ford three window, converted to column shift, in Northwestern New Jersey.  We just kept asking around about old cars until we found someone who knew about this, and dickered with the farmer to buy it.

Here it is; the '34 Ford coupe - outfitted with a 59 AB 48 Merc flathead, Iskendarian cam, dual Stromberg carbs, and 4.45 rear end.  My sisters Alison, Patti and I found it in a barn in Newfoundland NJ on that Feb '59 trip.  My sister Alison got to drive it more than I did since I was in school.  She said she got more offers of dates when she was driving in it than at any other time in her life (and she was cute!)  

The picture above is the only one of the car I have.  I paid $270 for it; don't even want to know what it would be worth today.

Thundering Turtles

Having cars often means being in groups:  In my case, I joined a hot rod club, the "Thundering Turtles," from nearby Dumont, NJ in 1957.

Somewhere, I know, I have one of the business cards we handed out when we helped stranded motorists who needed roadside help. I found them in my archives from several other similar groups.  Since hot rod clubs were often disparaged (people wrote lurid books about them, and "American Graffiti" captured it well), we worked hard to be helpful and to spread the word that we were really OK.

So, if you can't find a business card, will an old shirt work?  See below.                                                                              ↓



I can't list everyone who was in the club.  They came from several towns (Dumont, Cresskill, Demarest, Englewood, Tenafly, plus others), and I stayed friends with many of them for years.  Here are a few:

Jimmy Lynch
James Parola 

That's their Bantam coupe pictured above.  They were true hot-rodders; their cars were the "toughest machines in town."

And:

Joe Hare
Joe Murgia
Mike Hyde 
Bart Caliaro
Frank Maloney
Bruce Jensen
Keith Brodhead
David Dundorf
John Whelan
Joe Wells
Dan Provenzano
The Demarest brothers

and the three guys listed below:

Jack Russell
Billy Von Riegan
Paul Napolitan

more on these three below:

A group can decide to travel together:

1958 California Trip:

So in the late summer of 1958, the three fellows listed above and I decided to go on a two week trip to California to end the summer.  I had spent the first six weeks building fieldstone walls on a 1600's historic home in Cresskill with an elderly gentleman named Montgomery Melbourne, who had been an advertising man, and of all things, an honorary "Kentucky Colonel."  He had learned stone masonry from a legendary Northern Valley figure named Jules Gamboli, who had built most of the walls on Park Street, my home street in Tenafly.  Mr. Melbourne was intent on teaching me and he did so well.

By August, I had made enough money to fund my participation in the trip.  So here goes:

Jack Russell had built a 1948 Olds fastback sedan, with a 1957 Oldsmobile J2 engine, which was a lot hotter than mine.  You can fit four strapping young men in a fastback sedan, particularly if you have taken out all of the insulation.   Both Paul and Billy had great cars, too, but Jack was the leader, and we went in his.

It was a straight shot.  In the days before Interstates, we made it in seventy two hours, with only two stops. The first, on top of the Continental Divide in Estes Park, Colorado, was a bust.  When you have removed the upholstery, and you're at 10,000 feet plus, you can't sleep.  We pulled out after an hour.

The second stop was more benign.  We took a dip in the Great Salt Lake, watched the cars at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, and packed it in after an hour and a half.  I picked up the last driving segment, and crossed the Sierras.  They all told me I was seeing things in the road, and after 72 hours awake, I wouldn't doubt it.

We ended up in Vallejo, CA, found a motel and slept for twenty hours.  So much for driving straight through!

We cruised the SF area, and headed south.  A key stop was Pismo Beach, where we hit the ocean for the first time, and I body-surfed.  A young local saw our car, and complimented us.   He said he had a similar one in his garage at home.  We followed him there, and he pulled out a tricked out dark green 1950 Olds Business Coupe.  We said "Great!"  He said "No, this is my father's car," and went back in and pulled out a clean 1948 fastback, souped up and really like ours.

"No, Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore!"

We went on to LA, the Santa Monica beaches, Disneyland, and every drag strip we could find.  The linkage is clear.  Cars and surfing were going to be the next California wave; we could even see that in 1958, although I still knew nothing about board surfing.   I didn't know it yet, but I had found Shangri La.

Maybe I was a little too hard core.  The day they went to Disneyland, I hitchhiked on my own to the Pomona and Orange County drag strips.  See below:

No pictures (may find somewhere), just card from Orange County, CA Drag Strip, 1958:


Having fast cars means racing (even in New Jersey/New York):

History of '29 Chevrolet coupe:  Efforts at Montgomery Drags!



I'm not going to detail everything here, but in the summer of '58, Marilyn, her brother Richard and I spent every weekend at the Montgomery, NY Drag strip, usually leaving at 3:00am from Tenafly.  We towed the coupe up the Thruway and Route 17, and then re-installed the drive shaft, which wasn't always easy.  We all worked as tech inspectors, and I even got promoted.  That's a story for another time.

So what's the net outcome of cars and travel: California on my mind (with surfing, like forever?)



Both pictures are from 1967, which wasn't that much later.  The paragraph below is quoted from Chapter 1 of Surfing Though Time, Book 1, but it seemed like a perfect fit here:

"My later boyhood and teenage years were spent in New Jersey, but not on the “Jersey Shore.”  In point of fact, the beach for my family and me still meant Florida.  While others went south in the winter, we preferred the late summer and early fall, when, coincidentally, the waves were the biggest and best.  But neither in Florida, where we went for years, nor in California, which I visited in 1949 and with a group of friends for a couple of weeks in 1958, did I ever see a surfboard.  Always in the waves, but with my body prone and with a “fish-eye” view.  By the early 60’s, I had warmed to the Jersey coast, since it was an easy place to reach for swimming and body surfing."


So, thanks again, Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, Bruce and Terry With the help of your music, it was all coming together.

Saturday, September 5, 2020

 

Saturday, September 5, 2020

Legends need substance

 This post will extend the one from last week; more uses for (and surprises from) old business cards and similar mementoes.

Everyone (in my humble opinion) builds a legend about themselves.   Some may be swashbuckling, some tame, but they are there.

How does this happen? In some cases, it is a synthesis of other peoples' view of you.  If you are a public figure (e.g. Britney Spears, Taylor Swift (using female singers as an example)), the media and your audience will develop both their views and the myth around you.

However, in other cases, it is your view of yourself, and your (sometimes slightly colored) remembrances of the things you did and the things you came through.  It shapes (to a degree) what you are willing to do, and to try.

So, here you go:


In 2020, I found Richie Landolfi's calling card for the Imperials, a rock 'n roll singing group from Dumont, NJ, adjacent to my hometown.  The card dates from 1958 or so.  This is a part of my past I have mused and spoken about over the years.  I had tried starting my own group in Tenafly, including both young men and women.  Two posts ago, there is a picture and a list of the group members.  I thought we had potential, but you need to convince record promoters of that, and at age 15, we never did.

Tenafly had its share of musical talent.  Lesley Gore grew up there, and Paul Anka moved there, with his family, from Canada.  Bob Gaudio is from Bergenfield, another adjacent town, although he ended up in Newark with the Four Seasons.  Englewood had Sylvia Vanderpool (Mickey and Sylvia), who went on to be a record producer and is credited at her firm Sugar Hill Records with offering some of the first Rap songs.  In addition, in the 1950's Englewood had the Avons, led by the three Lee brothers, each of whom I had great respect for.  

All of which brings us backs to the Imperials.  Richie and Ralphie Landolfi were the lead singers.  I was just a background guy.  Since I was a member of the "Thundering Turtles" Hot Rod Club  (see next post), which was Dumont based, I was up there a lot, and I heard them at Shutin's, a Madison Avenue bar.  I was auditioned, and sang with them for about a month.  But they knew, as I did, that I had to go back to college in the fall.  So it is just a little piece of a legend, but we all have to try something.  Unfortunately, The Imperials could have had a better choice of a name.  Concurrently, a young man named Little Anthony had his Brooklyn, NY based backup group with a similar name.  In 1958, they made "Tears on my Pillow." and the Landolfi brothers had to find a new name.

More on cars (and travel and racing) next week.


Friday, September 4, 2020

 Old Business Cards! 

Hi, everyone:  

As I reviewed my July post, I realize I left out one specific piece of information which might be of value.  My nickname, throughout high school and again at Princeton, was "Duke."  Everyone thought it was for the Duke of Earl, but it far preceded that.   As a twelve year old in 1951, my view of the ideal baseball player was Edwin "Duke" Snider, the Hall of Fame center fielder for the Brooklyn Dodgers.  The neighborhood kids started calling me "Duke" and it stuck with me for the rest of my developing years.  

Since I was an early rock 'n roller, it was an appropriate nickname.  And when Gene Chandler made "Duke of Earl," it was stuck for good.  Willy Nelson and the Dukes were just following that pattern, I guess.

So, that, in a circuitous way, takes us to business cards.  I have always saved them.  I probably have fifteen or twenty different ones of my own, both personal and from all the businesses I owned and worked in, and was particularly supported when I attended General Georges Doriot's Manufacturing Class at Harvard.  Dr. Doriot said to keep your contacts in an organized way.  That made a lot of sense, and I followed his sage advice.

So this week, I went back and picked through my oldest business cards.  Even if you have thousands, there is a story to each one.

As you might expect, many of the ones from my teenage years are car related and music related.   Later they are business related, first IBM and computers in the early 1960's, then surfing, then furniture and design, then back to computers and Internet memes.  Now they have e-mail addresses as well as phone numbers.  I will start with a couple of examples and then pick up the post later with some of the even earlier ones.

See below two of the most interesting ones (at least to me).

Who is this gentleman, and why did the card matter?


In my memory, this is the first true calling card I had ever seen.  Mr. Raynor lives, or lived in Shushan, NY, and came over to visit the H. T. Cushman plant I was running in Bennington, VT in 1967.  I have done some research, and I believe he is still alive. He would be 84 or so now.

Some of my Princeton and Harvard classmates had calling cards, but they always had some type of contact information on them; either a dorm room or a phone number.  Even my Newport, RI friends had more detail than is on the card above.   On the other hand, this was really "old school."  "I'm here. This is who I am."  Congratulations, Mr.  Raynor.  I went on, and copied you.

Now, this guy below you probably know.  But when we talked at some length, and he gave me his card, "Who'd have thunk it?"


At the time (1996 or '97, I believe), Mr. Cook was a talented and aggressive mid/upper level executive for Intelligent Electronics, a computer company support group of which my company, Computer Power Supply, was an active and engaged member.  Mr. Cook was supportive and encouraging of our product, HOPE Software, and made some valuable introductions for us.

Of course, Mr. Cook is now Chairman and CEO of Apple Computer, the most valuable company in the world.  

Hope you enjoyed this brief introduction.  More to come later.

Stay safe!

Will Somers