Top Secret

It was 1965 and I had just completed Navy boot camp. My next assignment was 26 weeks of Training to become a Radioman. The manpower build up had gotten ahead of the physical facilities to handle the ever-increasing flow of young men. This created a large group of men waiting for their schools to begin, with nothing to do.
Each morning we would muster in front of the Transition HQ and slowly be sent on work parties. It was mostly “make work” as 10 would be sent where only one was needed. There was a joke about sweeping the compound where the only thing they were sweeping were the pieces of the brooms that broke off while sweeping the day before.

I wanted to do something more, so I went to the HQ early and volunteered for a real job.

I became a courier for a Top Secret Class C School. The school was on the far end of the base, so I was assigned my own bicycle for transportation. I arrived at the school each morning, made coffee for the students and teachers. The rest of the day I had to keep the fresh coffee coming and deliver and pick up mail between the School and various other offices on the base. I still didn’t have my Top Secret clearance, so I couldn’t have a key to the school. This was a problem as the teachers wanted to have hot fresh coffee when they arrived. After a few days the officer in charge came up with a plan. One window would be left unlocked and a trashcan would be placed nearby. Each morning I would arrive at least 15 minutes early and move the trashcan under the window, slide the window up and crawl into the Top Secret school room and make fresh coffee.

©2009

Last of the Hollywood

I first heard about the Hollywood Theater a few days after I arrived in San Diego for Navy boot camp. It didn’t interest me, as I was not interested in watching girls dance and strip down to g-strings and pasties.

After boot camp, I spent a lot of time walking around downtown and passed by the Hollywood several times before I went in. What enticed me to enter was not the girls, but the music that escaped to the street.

It was big band, bump and grind music with what sounded like about 10 saxophones.

The show was going on as I entered and I took a seat about half way into the theater. In between the dance scenes, a slapstick comedian would run through his routine. The saxophone music accented all the entertainment.

I was curious about the musicians, so when the show paused for a brake, I walked down to the stage when I could get a look at the orchestra pit.

There were about a dozen musicians and all were sporting snow-white hair. Three or four seemed to be dozing off when the conductor came in; tapped on his music stand and they all picked up their instruments and started playing. At least two appeared to still be sleeping.

I went back to my seat and watched the rest of the show. It was 1966.

1969 found me back in San Diego after having spent some time overseas. I had some free time one Saturday and decided to go back to the Hollywood Theater .I wanted to hear the music again and had intentions of talking to the old musicians.

I entered the theater and took a seat about mid way. The girls and the comedians did the same acts and the music was there, but something was different. The richness of the Saxophones just was not the same.

I watched a few routines and then walked down to the orchestra pit. The pit was completely dark and empty except for one corner where a young man sat at the controls of a huge music synthesizer.

The Hollywood Theater closed down in 1970.

©2009