Death of a Muscle Beach Legend

A Muscle Beach Legend moved to another volleyball court-this one in heaven. I first met Bobby Barber at Muscle Beach in 1989. The volleyball courts were located between the Santa Monica Pier and the life guard station. 
      I had taken the 7 Blue Bus to Santa Monica Beach and met a thin tall man with a beaming smile. He looked like an advertisement for volleyball outerwear. Several years earlier, my colleague from Garfield High School recommended the game to remove me from the urn of depression. Dick Selby, also a javelin record holder at U.C.L.A., became my sponsor.
     Bobby Barber took me into his wings. The well-groomed SAG worker was dressed in impeccable and colorful volleyball attire. The thin man could have been running for governor. You knew it was Bobby by his effervescent smile.   
   "Well George, looks like you need volleyball shorts and a bag to hold them in. Try these one and take my bag." Yes, Bobby Barber would give you the shirt off of his back if you needed it. I wrote an article about him in a local newspaper several years ago and will attempt to summarize it-of course with embellishments for the 98 year-old-legend of Beach Volleyball... Whenever I see a long thin onion I see Bobby Barber. You see he told me...well let me let him tell you his story. 
   "I grew up downtown and went to Manual Arts High School during the depression. My Mom was from France and we had a bakery. Dad played professionally for a Vernon baseball team - it was off of Glendale Blvd. I often biked to the beach and picked all the wild onions I could eat in the wide open spaces that separated downtown with West Los Angeles. I began to play with those who began two-man volleyball  in Santa Monica. 
   The life guard station and the pier's bleachers kept the winds at bay. The deep sand was a great setting for volleyball. Sometimes Wilt Chamberlain stopped by to play. He played basketball you know.   
   Then the Navy came a-calling when war broke out. After the war, I joined up with the Los Angeles Fire Department, but the windward beaches came a-calling. Along the way I met up with a Jane Russel look-alike. We married and after I had retired, I opened up a bathing suit shop at the foot of the Merry-Go-Round. 
   His movie star looking wife always packed a peanut butter sandwich for him. Yet he always shared half of it with me. Sharing was his life, and what a life without sharing. She also bore him four kids, three of whom played Triple A on the circuit.  
I must interrupt this Muscle Beach Legend. He told me that in-between bathing suit sells, and working for SAG. He initiated Randy Stoklos in the art of volleyball playing and Misty May. Both are legends in their own right. He played in many volleyball tournaments and at one time beat some of the greats.He must have had a thousand bathing suits. He always tried to give them away.  
  At the time, we played with others who had now passed on or are holding serve today at the same beach. Bud Grit, "Spider" Dick, "Sheb" Conway and a host of others made it a social gathering. Nick the Greek set up six man games in the early nineties. When Nick positioned you, you didn't dare move.
   A few times we went to the four dollar dinner at the Santa Monica Hospital. He  watched each penny. For him like others, they still lived in a time when a buck was a buck. We visited Sheb Conway in the hospital before he passed away. 
   His best volleyball shot was his stinky dink. He would act if making a set, but at the last second, send an angular dink just over the net. Nobody could outset Bobby Barber. But never laugh or beat  him in a two man game. He held grudges. He was a bad loser so he picked and chose his mates keeping away from volleyball beginners. He played into his mid-eighties.  I hope a statue of Bobby will be made before the Santa Monica  Expo Metro Line is completed by next April  
   One day Bobby played against me. It felt like a five minute rally. Big Dan was my partner and we flew through the air to return some balls. Every-so-often I took a gander and old man Bobby, huffing and puffing. The longer the rally, the more assured we would win the point. 
   This time I shot the ball over Bobby's head for a winner. Why you should have seen his face of dejection. I held my laughter as long as possible, but just could not hold it. I must have laughed for a minute or two. Bobby began to walk off the court but I apologized and allowed him to win the game. Yes, he was a poor loser. 
   Bobby was always interviewed on T.V. He knew what to say and was dressed to kill. In between volleyball, he would get old man parts as a SAG member. 
   Why back in the day who could not stop laughing -- particularly when playing with "Spider",  Ron and Bud Grit. Spider must have approached his eighties but still could hit the ball, that is if he received a perfect set. 
   Another one who couldn't move was Ron. Wait a minute, there he goes to the telephone. He was always looking for loose change and broken beach chairs. He would fix them and then sell them. You talk about pitching pennies, that was Ron. 
   After my football story is published I will begin a blog on Muscle Beach and there will be a few pictures of the volleyball courts.