Those under the age of eighteen must provide permission from a guardian to read this post. It begins at the downtown Central Library and ends inside Long Beach...and later Westminster.
Hope Street is the southern exit for the Los Angeles Public Central Library. Outside now, I buy a coke at the Market Café for shade and get ready for my trip back to Huntington Beach. The downtown temperatures register eight today. I head towards Seventh Street and the Blue Line Trolley..
Earlier inside the library, I posted a few pictures from the Chicago Tribune of August of 1940. Inside that issue on the front pages, it appeared that Hitler had a new weapon to aid an army ready to channel it and invade England. Bombs hit major cities as there was little hope for peace.
But only a few cared. August meant the College All Star Game. The best collegians football players would go up against Green Bay Packers. Moneys from these games went to crippled children hospitals. Polio and infantile paralysis were the scourge of the times. Archie Ward was he editor of the Chicago Tribune who brought the games to Soldier Field. Schindler had told him that his Dad retired as a Captain n the British Navy.
But after my research I needed time to finish my Panda Express meal, bought inside the library. The buildings toward over me and the slight westerly flow gave me a serene feeling that the Surf City just could not provide. But it was two o'clock and time to return to reality, oh shucks.
I remove a quarter and a dime from my pocket and tap my card in the machine. Before rush hour, it is thirty five cents to return to Long Beach for a senior. I tap my card again at a turn-style
and head down an escalator to the platform for the Expo and Long Beach lines.
A few homeless stake out their seats as I remove a People magazine and take a north side seat headed to Long Beach. Still it upsets me that the writers of the rag the Register did not print any of the football exploits of Ambrose Schindler who had a hand in two victories against Ohio State in both 1937 and 1938...There Cotton Bowl game is scheduled for today.
The train lurches forward to the first stop, the :Pico station. I relax in the knowledge that my book will compete with the best biographies ever published. Earlier in the day, I had provided copies of my Ohio Chapter to the Manager of the U.S.C. book store. To my chagrin, the campus was closed for the week. On the seats in back of me, a middle age girl tells her friend that the connection to the Green Line will return her to Redondo Beach. A speaker comes on as it generally does on each trip to Long Beach, so unsafe that the police never enter these cars.
"Please report any touching, indecent exposure...Also don't buy from anybody and keep valuables close to you...Thank you."
I ignore a radio that plays rap music and read my magazine. I peak at the downtown skyline and at :Pico station, two new buildings are going up to the heavens. I have never seen so many tall cranes! I take a sip of my coke when I hear a shrill noise
"Chargers for sell...Get your chargers!"
One passenger buys one and at the next stop, another vendor comes aboard at the L.A.Trade Tech station.
"Cold drinks, Doritos. candy, all for a dollar."
In a trance, I ignore the travesty on the train and focus at the stores on Washington now as we head to the San Pedro Station. Graffiti covers most of these small buildings as their day had been gone a long time ago. Must have been grand living downtown then. I dream about settling downtown as the underground transportation and tall buildings make it exciting.. Besides, U.S.C. and the Central Library are a few blocks away.
The coke bottle is finished as the train swerves onto Long Beach and sallies forth to Firestone, Watts towers, and finally to Anaheim and downtown. I feel refreshed since I did not driven at all today. The 91 bus on Fifth takes me to my bus stop on Seventh, across from the VA building. There is nothing like seeing downtown L.A. and I get a rush of energy. I grab a red vine from my Trader Joe bag and wait for the 560 Westminster bus.
I am totally relaxed and get off at Magnolia. On the corner is my Vietnamese fish market. It is large and I pick out a two pound Perch. Another is ahead of me and he has about seven fish being cut up with the inners removed. Besides the Perch, I buy some ice berg lettuce and also large navel orange. My #33 bus will arrive soon to return me to Garfield.
HAPPY NEW YEAR.
Friday, December 29, 2017
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
The Life and Times of s of Amby Schindler
It is only fitting that I write about the greatest athlete to come out of San Diego and play for the Trojans in the late 30's in the eve of the game against the Ohio State Buckeyes.
Those who wish an attachment for the 37 and 38 Ohio State games can send me e mails to me ...The following notes of the 1936 game against the Bruins of U.C.L.A. will be provided here. A knee injury prevented the 100 year old Schindler from suiting up for the game against their cross town rivals, U.C.L.A.
"I missed the last two games of the 1937 season so I sat on the bench wearing in my civvies. It appeared the game was in the bag while I walked across the field with my crutches and turned around before exiting through a tunnel to witness a long pass to the unguarded Herschel for a long touchdown."
'I returned to the bench and asked our coach if I could suit up. It appeared that Lansdell, my replacement, didn't listen to Jones in the locker room as Hershel was his new assignment. I decided to watch the game until the end which we finally won. Lansdell was caught grazing in their backfield when he turned around to see that his man had gone the distance for a touchdown"
"Kenny Washington, the Bruin quarterback, was the best gun- slinger that I had ever seen. He had flicked the ball with little effort over 60 yards and hit his man in the eye. He was also one hell of a runner and played great defense.
My e-mail is chicagoallstar@gmail.com
Those who wish an attachment for the 37 and 38 Ohio State games can send me e mails to me ...The following notes of the 1936 game against the Bruins of U.C.L.A. will be provided here. A knee injury prevented the 100 year old Schindler from suiting up for the game against their cross town rivals, U.C.L.A.
"I missed the last two games of the 1937 season so I sat on the bench wearing in my civvies. It appeared the game was in the bag while I walked across the field with my crutches and turned around before exiting through a tunnel to witness a long pass to the unguarded Herschel for a long touchdown."
'I returned to the bench and asked our coach if I could suit up. It appeared that Lansdell, my replacement, didn't listen to Jones in the locker room as Hershel was his new assignment. I decided to watch the game until the end which we finally won. Lansdell was caught grazing in their backfield when he turned around to see that his man had gone the distance for a touchdown"
"Kenny Washington, the Bruin quarterback, was the best gun- slinger that I had ever seen. He had flicked the ball with little effort over 60 yards and hit his man in the eye. He was also one hell of a runner and played great defense.
My e-mail is chicagoallstar@gmail.com
Saturday, December 16, 2017
A Pomeranian Visits Surf City
"The tall and leave room...thanks"
Just sat down at the Waterfront Hilton on P.C.H. and peaked at the Los Angles Times just after I had dropped two jars of honey and half and half into my coffee. Saw that Trump would probably try to stop the ties between him and Russia by firing the chief investigator when out of the corner of my eye a lady dressed in black pants pushed a baby carriage my way.
On closer examination, discovered that it was a dog. But what a dog! With white hair and large ears that worked as an antenna, it searched me up and down. I just had to ask the lady in black.
"Excuse me, but what kind of a dog is that...it is lovely."
"A Pomeranian," with a warm smile that evoked further discourse.
She stopped and I examined further the dog who owned a long pointed nose with lovably blue eyes.
"How old is it?"
"Nine."
"Where did you buy it?"
"Didn't. I had visited my Mom's family in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She had died of Rheumatoid Arthritis and a school friend called and told me about a Pomeranian at the pound who was about to be put down."
"I took it from the pound and somehow bought a ticket for it on American, Dog class. It must have made an impression since American did not ticket me for five month old dog."
"Is this your first dog?"
"Grew up with dogs. Made up my mind that Rusty would become my child and my engineer husband agreed....Name is Trina and used to live in Long Beach....Here for a medical convention the doctors are our guests.
"What do you feed it?"
" Rusty has an enlarge pancreas and we need to feed it special food...Live in Mission Vallejo now. ."
"Do you mind if I use your name in my blog?" "No go right ahead and glad to meet you. Where are you headed."
"To the pool. a trainer is going to teach Rusty to ride a surf board."
She left and I looked at the Sport's pages of the Times. My pocket watch told me it was time to go go to the bus stop below as the number 25 would be dropping my off on Main, on a damp cool day, a day to walk a dog.
Just sat down at the Waterfront Hilton on P.C.H. and peaked at the Los Angles Times just after I had dropped two jars of honey and half and half into my coffee. Saw that Trump would probably try to stop the ties between him and Russia by firing the chief investigator when out of the corner of my eye a lady dressed in black pants pushed a baby carriage my way.
On closer examination, discovered that it was a dog. But what a dog! With white hair and large ears that worked as an antenna, it searched me up and down. I just had to ask the lady in black.
"Excuse me, but what kind of a dog is that...it is lovely."
"A Pomeranian," with a warm smile that evoked further discourse.
She stopped and I examined further the dog who owned a long pointed nose with lovably blue eyes.
"How old is it?"
"Nine."
"Where did you buy it?"
"Didn't. I had visited my Mom's family in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She had died of Rheumatoid Arthritis and a school friend called and told me about a Pomeranian at the pound who was about to be put down."
"I took it from the pound and somehow bought a ticket for it on American, Dog class. It must have made an impression since American did not ticket me for five month old dog."
"Is this your first dog?"
"Grew up with dogs. Made up my mind that Rusty would become my child and my engineer husband agreed....Name is Trina and used to live in Long Beach....Here for a medical convention the doctors are our guests.
"What do you feed it?"
" Rusty has an enlarge pancreas and we need to feed it special food...Live in Mission Vallejo now. ."
"Do you mind if I use your name in my blog?" "No go right ahead and glad to meet you. Where are you headed."
"To the pool. a trainer is going to teach Rusty to ride a surf board."
She left and I looked at the Sport's pages of the Times. My pocket watch told me it was time to go go to the bus stop below as the number 25 would be dropping my off on Main, on a damp cool day, a day to walk a dog.
Friday, December 15, 2017
My Great Escape
It's great to lie back and leave the world behind. A retaining wall separates the sand from the bike path from the beach. The Great Escape, about 10 Hungarian Jews who fled Budapest in the nick of time before the war is my , is my food while I enjoy the four o'clock breeze. My sun block is the retaining wall and serves as my bed stand. I prop my head up and lie down. My lungs relax and I can breath again.
The number one across from the Waterfront Hilton took me three stops to my exit. Homelessness is pervasive on this bus. Black bags, knap sacks and depressive looks greeted me before my exit. The Mexican bus driver is stoic and has no smile for me or for the man who boarded after me. Bags and bodies are strewn everywhere. Some appear dead, and I feel lucky to have s roof over my head.
"Didn't you see me? What is your hurry you f..."
The bus driver does not react to the man with three full bags. They are his lives possessions. He will sleep at a shelter or find a store front to place his sleeping bag tonight. With the Santa Ana's it is clear without a hint of rain in the air.
My #33 bus will come at the entrance of the Magnolia and P.C.H.stop in about forty minutes. In between glances of the book, I enjoy watching the bikers. It is their way to unwind from a hectic day. Some are built for two or even three to ride them
In back of me the mechanics of volleyball are taught to a college from the Harbor. I listen in while I sit on a small retaining wall with the Catalina mountains and a beautiful orange and yellow hue as the sun begins its descent into tomorrow as my back drop. The instructor is strict as she tells her student how to bump the ball.
"Spread your legs, and get them close to ground....Good but even lower!"
She throws the marble to her pupil and the pupil leans to one side hitting an angular pellet.
"Told you to stay down, and not move your legs. Point and lift the gall with your arms parallel to each other.
Now as a volleyball guru I know that staying down and letting the body energize the arms is the way to bump the ball...but I see that my number 33 bus has arrived. I say good by to the beach and head to Von's off of Atlantic.
Vons' Market is my favorite market for meat when on sell. Juan, their butcher told me that a New York cut would be on sell for three ninety five a pound. I buy three of them and some greens and sit next to the register and watch the whales cart their many groceries out the door. Why some have filled two, yes two shopping carts, and their bodies show it.
Buy now, got to grill my steaks, medium well...if you please.
The number one across from the Waterfront Hilton took me three stops to my exit. Homelessness is pervasive on this bus. Black bags, knap sacks and depressive looks greeted me before my exit. The Mexican bus driver is stoic and has no smile for me or for the man who boarded after me. Bags and bodies are strewn everywhere. Some appear dead, and I feel lucky to have s roof over my head.
"Didn't you see me? What is your hurry you f..."
The bus driver does not react to the man with three full bags. They are his lives possessions. He will sleep at a shelter or find a store front to place his sleeping bag tonight. With the Santa Ana's it is clear without a hint of rain in the air.
My #33 bus will come at the entrance of the Magnolia and P.C.H.stop in about forty minutes. In between glances of the book, I enjoy watching the bikers. It is their way to unwind from a hectic day. Some are built for two or even three to ride them
In back of me the mechanics of volleyball are taught to a college from the Harbor. I listen in while I sit on a small retaining wall with the Catalina mountains and a beautiful orange and yellow hue as the sun begins its descent into tomorrow as my back drop. The instructor is strict as she tells her student how to bump the ball.
"Spread your legs, and get them close to ground....Good but even lower!"
She throws the marble to her pupil and the pupil leans to one side hitting an angular pellet.
"Told you to stay down, and not move your legs. Point and lift the gall with your arms parallel to each other.
Now as a volleyball guru I know that staying down and letting the body energize the arms is the way to bump the ball...but I see that my number 33 bus has arrived. I say good by to the beach and head to Von's off of Atlantic.
Vons' Market is my favorite market for meat when on sell. Juan, their butcher told me that a New York cut would be on sell for three ninety five a pound. I buy three of them and some greens and sit next to the register and watch the whales cart their many groceries out the door. Why some have filled two, yes two shopping carts, and their bodies show it.
Buy now, got to grill my steaks, medium well...if you please.
Saturday, December 9, 2017
A Xmas Story
Lady Luck was on my side a few months ago...I was at the end of my rope. The Lady in the Cage pushed me to the edge of sanity. Helen had placed a letter on my door a few months earlier that led me to assume that I would be given my third year lease....In fact a line underlined in yellow, that I would need to visit her cage to sign my extended lease.
When I arrived at her window in back of the front door, she apologized that the "new lease had not been ready, and to come back later."
I really did not wish to remain there since I never felt at home there, and under the watchful eye of Lady Helen. But as you will see, Lady Luck won out in the end.
Even before I landed at the Five Points Senior Apartments, I had been forewarned by other managers that the corner property on the corner of Florida and Main had a bad history of management. They warned me that anyone who entered would be too happy to leave with their lives. The property had history of poor management, and apartments were always available there. .but the homeless can't be too choosy and besides, my daughter wished a roof over the head land not lean on Motel Six when my pockets were full.
I believe it was July of 2015 that I co-signed the lease papers which included a parking stall in a secure area. Helen forgot to give me a copy of the lease and also the key to the room. Reluctantly with persistence she gave me both without so much as an apology...a word not in her vocabulary.
A hoard of flies attacked me that first week. Kept awake for a few nights, I found a crack in the bedroom screen window. That fixed, as well as a dirty patio compressor, the door was hard to open. I was attacked by flies my first week there and noticed a problem with the door. The bedroom screen had a crack in the corner, and finally the first of five maintenance men entered and produced a new screen and cleaned the compressor of the outside A/C. I began to feel happy and my chronic bronchitis began to disappear.
One morning I felt like taking my breakfast of eggs and bacon outside to eat and get some fresh air. Just as I walked down the hall from room 1001, she came running towards me and walked in front of me.
"The only place you can eat is in your room." She came towards me, like my mom did as a kid with a broom. Gripping my plate, I fled outside with the mad dog at my heals. I turned when I reached Florida Street and noticed she had returned to her glass cage. I had to keep my emotions in check, somehow but deep down, knew it was not a lady, but the devil
October of the same month, we had one of our worst ever Santa Ana's, where the temperature hit one hundred. I felt like heading to the third floor and reading a book...since I knew that there was a A/C unit inside the library. there....wrong. it had been disconnected so I returned to my room. The door was ajar and would not budge. Finally It opened and called Lady Helen to my room.
"George, the owners disconnected the A/C's since the "Old People forget to turn them off."
"But I moved in strictly because of the good cold air inside the library.
In her guttural raspy voice she shrugged me off and returned to her cage. I still had trouble with the door and the fist maintenance man tried to skirt the issue by reinstalling a metal bar at the bottom. It didn't work. I approached the cage again and told her of my dilemma.
"Just go out and buy some graphite...yes graphite"
I spent the next day at the Kaiser Clinic on Beach. I was placed in a wheel chair. A doctor prescribed a different inhaler for me. It cost fifty dollars but it worked. In the meantime, A handy man they worked for them years earlier came and inserted a new lock.
Now I must convey to the reader that this writer did not know what neat meant. I was filthy, but with money issues, did not have enough to hire a cleaning lady. My daughter brought me a refrigerator that helped a great deal and I begn to pick up and clean.
In October, I was hit with a family problem and turned to God. My San Diego Rabbi had told me that a cousin had a synagogue on Warner in Huntington Beach. My heart stopped shaking the first five minutes inside this sanctuary. It felt as if for the first time in my life. Hashem was guiding me, since in no way did I see the road anymore. I began to put my life on auto pilot.
But it was a day in February that placed my life in jeopardy. I returned to my car after a brief nap and saw my stall empty. I had been away for not more than two hours and called the police. A Westminster Policeman came and took my report while Danny Rodriguez, the maintenance man, and Mark the Owner ignored us. He remarked that if I had my keys inside the car, somebody must have know it and taken it.
"Your car is in a lot but is not driveable. The car was in a crash and the two inside it ran away" The next day my daughter and I tried to retrieve the car from their station but found out that Mel had to be there to claim it. Mel at the time was in the hospital with double pneumonia.
At the Huntington Beach Police department, I got nowhere. The man who I gave the report to told me that they were too busy and a highway man would come to look at the tapes. I felt pissed and thought the police were stupid. I asked a man named Rocket a few question to confirm how dumb they were.
"Who was the second president of the U.S.?"
"Don't know. I majored in science."
"Who was Einstein?" He never heard of the scientist who discovered the theory of relativity.
A video camera was inside the garage. Lisa, an office manager told me that I could not view the tapes without an officer at my side. That never happened. Danny had asked me if they had found my car the day after.
So I needed to renew my expertise in boarding buses. It took about four buses for me to get to the Kindred Hospital in Santa Ana close to the Santa Ana City College. I can't remember walking so much and nobody at the college ever heard of it...Mel could barely get out of bed but in two months would be cleared to return to the Spartan Pacific Assistant Living Center in Huntington Beach.
A look of what looked like exasperation greeted me as I entered the door off of Main. Helen had reached down for a candy and gave me such a look, as if she had seen the devil.
Helen did not know that this crusty old Jew could bus it to get around. She never apologized or took note that my car had been missing.
About one year after Mel's car had been stolen, an Officer Ricci called me and left a message. To paraphrase it he said "I found something about your stolen car that you might find interesting. You can pick up report number 16-002089 at our precinct...a couple months later, I took the bus to pick up the report.
A desk lady told me that they would need the approval of a supervisor before the report would be handed to me...When I returned a few days later, an audacious policeman told me that the case had been closed. And I will never forget his pungent words and the way he administered them.
"Sir, the case has been closed! Unless you saw the one who took the car, we can't do anything for you ."
I was mad as hell, but no cop can tell a Jew what is the truth. That night, I was visited by my friend, a squirrel. It tapped on the bedroom window where his home used to be in a fir tree. The complex spent thousands on landscape and removed the tree next to my window. The squirrel too was beside himself, ever since Matt, the owner removed his tree and spent thousands on flower and grass, no doubt have more patrons sign a lease at the Five Points. He even advertised an entire page in the Register.
"Hey George, got something to tell you. But first give me some of the leftover tuna...thanks."
"Well Jerry, out with it. You woke me up for what?"
"I know who stole your car. My wife Betty told me that she heard through the grape vine that Danny Rodriguez had taken it on orders from his boss, Helen. You know that he was just fired for having a party inside Marcia's apartments when she had gone away. Marcia had a camera that proved it.
I received a letter in September stating that all I needed to come to her cage and sign the new lease. Shaded in yellow were some of the important words. When I had the courage to come to the office she spoke in her raspy cigarette voice.
"No quite ready...Come back later."
A trip to her cage felt like a trip to the gallows during the French revolution. It is hard to smile when the swordsman has an ax ready to remove your head. And so it felt going to her cage. She never smiled or said "hello". A couple of days later, another one inside the cage told me she was on a vacation.
One late afternoon just as I was doffing off to sleep for my senior citizen nap, I heard a noise. It sounded louder so I went to the door and opened it a bit. There stood the Lady in the Cage.
"Ill be nice to you George...Given you sixty days to leave."
Barely catching my breath, I took the notice as if in a dream. When I came to my senses, I put on clothes and walked to her cage. I showed her my neat apartment, but it did no good.
"George, we have a high class of people who live here, and you are far below it. and I don't like Cockroaches."
Of course living month to month, I needed my retirement check as a months rent if I found a new apartment. My daughter looked for me and told me about the Beach Inn in Fountain Valley. One early morning, I heard a tapping on my bedroom window. It was Tommy the squirrel. I had befriended it until her fir tree was removed replaced with un-needed landscaping.
"George, you are lucky to have been shown the door. Most of my family died because of the putrid water. But I will help you all the way since you shared your bagels with us. Make an appointment to see the Beach Inn. It is far from perfect but is a first step in freedom. This place means death for you."
I made an appointment to see the Beach Inn on Magnolia, not far from the Fountain Valley swamplands. Lola seemed distressed as a friend had been killed in Las Vegas. She seemed to like me and had me sign many papers. Her boss, a Jewish owner, peered in on a video and wished that I add a co-signer. My daughter did sign the lease as a co-renter.
I knew that I couldn't come up with the $1,650 a month rent with a double security deposit. The streets and the Motel Six was looking as my last resort. Again I heard a tapping at my bedroom window.
"Go to your mail box. You will find a check that will provide the needed extra security deposit."
In the middle of the night, I strode to my mailbox and to my delight saw a small envelope. Inside was the money for the extra security deposit. The next day, I rode three buses to get to her location off of Talbert Street. Lola was busy and wished to show an apartment to q young couple. I waited in the billiard room next to the office. It seemed like hours but she did finally return.
"George, I am going to dispense with the credit check. Just give me the first month's and the two security deposits."
I removed a wad of Big Ben Bills from my rubber band and counted thirty six if then for her. She smiled and took the bills.
"Here is the keys to the apartment along with the garage and mail box key. Welcome to our apartment."
Exhausted and hungry, I walked across the street to Taco Bell and celebrated. I had a few bucks left for the rest of the month but now clutched the key in my hand. Somehow I felt alive again as this thorny one in the cage could not rumple my life anymore. Yet I still had to stay there until my stuff was removed to the new place.
I had been placing things inside boxes and throwing out a lot of stuff. It was me against the world. After two weeks, I just could not stand it anymore. The building reeked of her witchlike look. Without furniture, I walked to the bus stop and made a last call.
"Lola, do you know of any movers."
"Yes I will get back to you George."
When I arrived at her window in back of the front door, she apologized that the "new lease had not been ready, and to come back later."
I really did not wish to remain there since I never felt at home there, and under the watchful eye of Lady Helen. But as you will see, Lady Luck won out in the end.
Even before I landed at the Five Points Senior Apartments, I had been forewarned by other managers that the corner property on the corner of Florida and Main had a bad history of management. They warned me that anyone who entered would be too happy to leave with their lives. The property had history of poor management, and apartments were always available there. .but the homeless can't be too choosy and besides, my daughter wished a roof over the head land not lean on Motel Six when my pockets were full.
I believe it was July of 2015 that I co-signed the lease papers which included a parking stall in a secure area. Helen forgot to give me a copy of the lease and also the key to the room. Reluctantly with persistence she gave me both without so much as an apology...a word not in her vocabulary.
A hoard of flies attacked me that first week. Kept awake for a few nights, I found a crack in the bedroom screen window. That fixed, as well as a dirty patio compressor, the door was hard to open. I was attacked by flies my first week there and noticed a problem with the door. The bedroom screen had a crack in the corner, and finally the first of five maintenance men entered and produced a new screen and cleaned the compressor of the outside A/C. I began to feel happy and my chronic bronchitis began to disappear.
One morning I felt like taking my breakfast of eggs and bacon outside to eat and get some fresh air. Just as I walked down the hall from room 1001, she came running towards me and walked in front of me.
"The only place you can eat is in your room." She came towards me, like my mom did as a kid with a broom. Gripping my plate, I fled outside with the mad dog at my heals. I turned when I reached Florida Street and noticed she had returned to her glass cage. I had to keep my emotions in check, somehow but deep down, knew it was not a lady, but the devil
October of the same month, we had one of our worst ever Santa Ana's, where the temperature hit one hundred. I felt like heading to the third floor and reading a book...since I knew that there was a A/C unit inside the library. there....wrong. it had been disconnected so I returned to my room. The door was ajar and would not budge. Finally It opened and called Lady Helen to my room.
"George, the owners disconnected the A/C's since the "Old People forget to turn them off."
"But I moved in strictly because of the good cold air inside the library.
In her guttural raspy voice she shrugged me off and returned to her cage. I still had trouble with the door and the fist maintenance man tried to skirt the issue by reinstalling a metal bar at the bottom. It didn't work. I approached the cage again and told her of my dilemma.
"Just go out and buy some graphite...yes graphite"
I spent the next day at the Kaiser Clinic on Beach. I was placed in a wheel chair. A doctor prescribed a different inhaler for me. It cost fifty dollars but it worked. In the meantime, A handy man they worked for them years earlier came and inserted a new lock.
Now I must convey to the reader that this writer did not know what neat meant. I was filthy, but with money issues, did not have enough to hire a cleaning lady. My daughter brought me a refrigerator that helped a great deal and I begn to pick up and clean.
In October, I was hit with a family problem and turned to God. My San Diego Rabbi had told me that a cousin had a synagogue on Warner in Huntington Beach. My heart stopped shaking the first five minutes inside this sanctuary. It felt as if for the first time in my life. Hashem was guiding me, since in no way did I see the road anymore. I began to put my life on auto pilot.
But it was a day in February that placed my life in jeopardy. I returned to my car after a brief nap and saw my stall empty. I had been away for not more than two hours and called the police. A Westminster Policeman came and took my report while Danny Rodriguez, the maintenance man, and Mark the Owner ignored us. He remarked that if I had my keys inside the car, somebody must have know it and taken it.
"Your car is in a lot but is not driveable. The car was in a crash and the two inside it ran away" The next day my daughter and I tried to retrieve the car from their station but found out that Mel had to be there to claim it. Mel at the time was in the hospital with double pneumonia.
At the Huntington Beach Police department, I got nowhere. The man who I gave the report to told me that they were too busy and a highway man would come to look at the tapes. I felt pissed and thought the police were stupid. I asked a man named Rocket a few question to confirm how dumb they were.
"Who was the second president of the U.S.?"
"Don't know. I majored in science."
"Who was Einstein?" He never heard of the scientist who discovered the theory of relativity.
A video camera was inside the garage. Lisa, an office manager told me that I could not view the tapes without an officer at my side. That never happened. Danny had asked me if they had found my car the day after.
So I needed to renew my expertise in boarding buses. It took about four buses for me to get to the Kindred Hospital in Santa Ana close to the Santa Ana City College. I can't remember walking so much and nobody at the college ever heard of it...Mel could barely get out of bed but in two months would be cleared to return to the Spartan Pacific Assistant Living Center in Huntington Beach.
A look of what looked like exasperation greeted me as I entered the door off of Main. Helen had reached down for a candy and gave me such a look, as if she had seen the devil.
Helen did not know that this crusty old Jew could bus it to get around. She never apologized or took note that my car had been missing.
About one year after Mel's car had been stolen, an Officer Ricci called me and left a message. To paraphrase it he said "I found something about your stolen car that you might find interesting. You can pick up report number 16-002089 at our precinct...a couple months later, I took the bus to pick up the report.
A desk lady told me that they would need the approval of a supervisor before the report would be handed to me...When I returned a few days later, an audacious policeman told me that the case had been closed. And I will never forget his pungent words and the way he administered them.
"Sir, the case has been closed! Unless you saw the one who took the car, we can't do anything for you ."
I was mad as hell, but no cop can tell a Jew what is the truth. That night, I was visited by my friend, a squirrel. It tapped on the bedroom window where his home used to be in a fir tree. The complex spent thousands on landscape and removed the tree next to my window. The squirrel too was beside himself, ever since Matt, the owner removed his tree and spent thousands on flower and grass, no doubt have more patrons sign a lease at the Five Points. He even advertised an entire page in the Register.
"Hey George, got something to tell you. But first give me some of the leftover tuna...thanks."
"Well Jerry, out with it. You woke me up for what?"
"I know who stole your car. My wife Betty told me that she heard through the grape vine that Danny Rodriguez had taken it on orders from his boss, Helen. You know that he was just fired for having a party inside Marcia's apartments when she had gone away. Marcia had a camera that proved it.
I received a letter in September stating that all I needed to come to her cage and sign the new lease. Shaded in yellow were some of the important words. When I had the courage to come to the office she spoke in her raspy cigarette voice.
"No quite ready...Come back later."
A trip to her cage felt like a trip to the gallows during the French revolution. It is hard to smile when the swordsman has an ax ready to remove your head. And so it felt going to her cage. She never smiled or said "hello". A couple of days later, another one inside the cage told me she was on a vacation.
One late afternoon just as I was doffing off to sleep for my senior citizen nap, I heard a noise. It sounded louder so I went to the door and opened it a bit. There stood the Lady in the Cage.
"Ill be nice to you George...Given you sixty days to leave."
Barely catching my breath, I took the notice as if in a dream. When I came to my senses, I put on clothes and walked to her cage. I showed her my neat apartment, but it did no good.
"George, we have a high class of people who live here, and you are far below it. and I don't like Cockroaches."
Of course living month to month, I needed my retirement check as a months rent if I found a new apartment. My daughter looked for me and told me about the Beach Inn in Fountain Valley. One early morning, I heard a tapping on my bedroom window. It was Tommy the squirrel. I had befriended it until her fir tree was removed replaced with un-needed landscaping.
"George, you are lucky to have been shown the door. Most of my family died because of the putrid water. But I will help you all the way since you shared your bagels with us. Make an appointment to see the Beach Inn. It is far from perfect but is a first step in freedom. This place means death for you."
I made an appointment to see the Beach Inn on Magnolia, not far from the Fountain Valley swamplands. Lola seemed distressed as a friend had been killed in Las Vegas. She seemed to like me and had me sign many papers. Her boss, a Jewish owner, peered in on a video and wished that I add a co-signer. My daughter did sign the lease as a co-renter.
I knew that I couldn't come up with the $1,650 a month rent with a double security deposit. The streets and the Motel Six was looking as my last resort. Again I heard a tapping at my bedroom window.
"Go to your mail box. You will find a check that will provide the needed extra security deposit."
In the middle of the night, I strode to my mailbox and to my delight saw a small envelope. Inside was the money for the extra security deposit. The next day, I rode three buses to get to her location off of Talbert Street. Lola was busy and wished to show an apartment to q young couple. I waited in the billiard room next to the office. It seemed like hours but she did finally return.
"George, I am going to dispense with the credit check. Just give me the first month's and the two security deposits."
I removed a wad of Big Ben Bills from my rubber band and counted thirty six if then for her. She smiled and took the bills.
"Here is the keys to the apartment along with the garage and mail box key. Welcome to our apartment."
Exhausted and hungry, I walked across the street to Taco Bell and celebrated. I had a few bucks left for the rest of the month but now clutched the key in my hand. Somehow I felt alive again as this thorny one in the cage could not rumple my life anymore. Yet I still had to stay there until my stuff was removed to the new place.
I had been placing things inside boxes and throwing out a lot of stuff. It was me against the world. After two weeks, I just could not stand it anymore. The building reeked of her witchlike look. Without furniture, I walked to the bus stop and made a last call.
"Lola, do you know of any movers."
"Yes I will get back to you George."
Saturday, December 2, 2017
Jackie Robinson as a football player
"Bill me for three donuts also...and where, may I ask are the papers?
"To your right and do you wish for a bag?
I placed the roast, orange, potato, and onion inside my knapsack and took a seat next to the Starbucks at the Von's. Am at the store off of Magnolia and Atlantic.
To the left of the sport's page was a picture of the retired Dodger broadcaster. He was at the stadium as a statue of Jackie Robinson was to be unveiled showing him as a football player. It reminded me of my notes about Jackie I had taken from the Pasadena library and what Schindler told me. it reminded me of what I had written about the four letter man from Altadena, California
In 1937 played for a local team in Pasadena to play a baseball game against the Chicago White Sox. Jimmy Dykes, their manager, became awestruck while watching Robinson play against his team. He corralled Jackie and told him that he would become a great player if only he had been white. Pasadena Star News also pictured Joe Louis, a heavy weight fighter, playing the harmonica while he brought a band of softball players for a game. Jackie Robinson received 24 letters while at U.C.L.A and also defeated a local handball champion even though he had never played the sport in his life.
Schindler mentioned that Robinson had been in Jail prior to the 1939 game against the Trojans but I found nothing to colaberate this tale. Schindler did work for the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department and may have received the news from one of their staff.
A headline in the paper showed big time prejudice reigned in Pasadena as a it stated that a "Negro Thief Given a Long Term. My Dad Harry was pulled over by a cop and jailed because his name was Goldberg. His Dad Louis heeded to bail him out.
The paper mentioned that Robinson had trouble with the law...or even better, he stood up for his rights. In 1937, Bill Spaulding quipped that his lanky Negro, had a cold and a sprained finger and might miss an upcoming game. He spoke about Kenny Washington. Izzy Cantor or Hal Hirshon would replace him. At the same time, the Trojans prepared for Francis Schmidt and his razzle dazzle style of play against the Trojans and Schindler.
Betty Grable, a movie star known for her legs, must have dazzled them at the Grand Central Station as in all probability the Trojan head coach had sent her there to greet them. Ohio State had clobbered Columbia to the tune of 70-0 before entraining to Southern California.
In other news of in 1939, Culver City was going to shut down gambling dens. Hitler blamed the British and the Jews for an assasination attempt on his life And in the upcoming game, Robinson had a bad knee and Kenny Washington was an outstanding threat and a defensive stalwart. Robinson had a bad knee and didn't suit up. Robinson was rested prior to the U.S.C. game in 1939.
Studabakers and Pontiacs showed strong sells as that month of December, you couldn't buy a Pontiac if you wanted to. 13 football teams remained unbeaten into November of 39 among them were Tennessee, Cornell and some team named Slippery Rock. At the Pan Pacific Auditorium there was skating and badminton and a Dr. James Naismith, the inventor of basketball was fighting for his life.
Cornell Tires were advertising at Pep Boys for $4.65 and a battery for your car was $4.44. Don Dallessandro led the coast league with a .368 batting average and Ripper Collins of the Angels had collected 26 home runs.
In the game at South Bend in 1939, Schindler was moved from quarterback to fullback.
The New York Times mentioned that a license was needed to shoot duck or hunt for deer...None was needed to jail Hebrews or Negroes. (Unedited)
"To your right and do you wish for a bag?
I placed the roast, orange, potato, and onion inside my knapsack and took a seat next to the Starbucks at the Von's. Am at the store off of Magnolia and Atlantic.
To the left of the sport's page was a picture of the retired Dodger broadcaster. He was at the stadium as a statue of Jackie Robinson was to be unveiled showing him as a football player. It reminded me of my notes about Jackie I had taken from the Pasadena library and what Schindler told me. it reminded me of what I had written about the four letter man from Altadena, California
In 1937 played for a local team in Pasadena to play a baseball game against the Chicago White Sox. Jimmy Dykes, their manager, became awestruck while watching Robinson play against his team. He corralled Jackie and told him that he would become a great player if only he had been white. Pasadena Star News also pictured Joe Louis, a heavy weight fighter, playing the harmonica while he brought a band of softball players for a game. Jackie Robinson received 24 letters while at U.C.L.A and also defeated a local handball champion even though he had never played the sport in his life.
Schindler mentioned that Robinson had been in Jail prior to the 1939 game against the Trojans but I found nothing to colaberate this tale. Schindler did work for the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department and may have received the news from one of their staff.
A headline in the paper showed big time prejudice reigned in Pasadena as a it stated that a "Negro Thief Given a Long Term. My Dad Harry was pulled over by a cop and jailed because his name was Goldberg. His Dad Louis heeded to bail him out.
The paper mentioned that Robinson had trouble with the law...or even better, he stood up for his rights. In 1937, Bill Spaulding quipped that his lanky Negro, had a cold and a sprained finger and might miss an upcoming game. He spoke about Kenny Washington. Izzy Cantor or Hal Hirshon would replace him. At the same time, the Trojans prepared for Francis Schmidt and his razzle dazzle style of play against the Trojans and Schindler.
Betty Grable, a movie star known for her legs, must have dazzled them at the Grand Central Station as in all probability the Trojan head coach had sent her there to greet them. Ohio State had clobbered Columbia to the tune of 70-0 before entraining to Southern California.
In other news of in 1939, Culver City was going to shut down gambling dens. Hitler blamed the British and the Jews for an assasination attempt on his life And in the upcoming game, Robinson had a bad knee and Kenny Washington was an outstanding threat and a defensive stalwart. Robinson had a bad knee and didn't suit up. Robinson was rested prior to the U.S.C. game in 1939.
Studabakers and Pontiacs showed strong sells as that month of December, you couldn't buy a Pontiac if you wanted to. 13 football teams remained unbeaten into November of 39 among them were Tennessee, Cornell and some team named Slippery Rock. At the Pan Pacific Auditorium there was skating and badminton and a Dr. James Naismith, the inventor of basketball was fighting for his life.
Cornell Tires were advertising at Pep Boys for $4.65 and a battery for your car was $4.44. Don Dallessandro led the coast league with a .368 batting average and Ripper Collins of the Angels had collected 26 home runs.
In the game at South Bend in 1939, Schindler was moved from quarterback to fullback.
The New York Times mentioned that a license was needed to shoot duck or hunt for deer...None was needed to jail Hebrews or Negroes. (Unedited)
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