July 31, 1967: The Hangover

Diary entry for July 31, 1967:

I felt very bad all day - too much celebrating. No mail today either. Dave came home usual time, we ate, played cards and dominoes and went to bed early.

Sounds like somebody might have had a bit too much champagne the night before. Maybe that blister will have a chance to heal.

July 30, 1967: Anniversary

Diary entry for July 30, 1967:

Today is our anniversary. We opened our gifts about 2:00. I received a beautiful necklace with a diamond in it. I gave Dave a money clip with engraving on it. David Wayne gave him a shower soap and cord. Then we went riding. Drove by Griffith Park and we found a Penney's store. Then we drove out to Santa Monica Beach. It was very cool by the water. David Wayne loved it. We also had some champagne to celebrate.

Although this was Mom and Dad's first anniversary, they both seem to have eschewed the traditional first anniversary gifts of paper, with Mom jumping all the way to the 50th (gold) and Dad jumping a little further to the 60th (diamond). (I'll have more to say about these particular gifts in the near future.)

I'm pretty sure we will revisit Griffith Park during our stay in Los Angeles. Likewise, Mom will probably revisit the Penney's store. Maybe she'll mention buying some more lingerie.

I'm 99% sure this was my first visit to a beach, so I'm sure I was fascinated by it.

I'm glad this Sunday ended on a much happier note than last Sunday.

July 29, 1967: Presents

Diary entry for July 29, 1967:

Dave left the house to get me a present. David Wayne and I also left to get his. We had a good lunch and Dave left again to get my present. We didn't go anywhere. David Wayne played with the boy who lived upstairs.

So yesterday Mom said she bought Dad's anniversary present at a jewelry store, and today she went to get it. And Dad's gift to Mom required two trips as well. Interesting . . .

I don't recall having any friends in the apartment building, but maybe I did. Or maybe we didn't play together very often for whatever reason.

July 28, 1967: Tar

Diary entry for July 28, 1967:

I read this morning. Also did some hand washing. Around noon David Wayne and I walked to Beverly Blvd. Found a nice gift shop. I bought an anniversary present for my husband at a jewelry store. This has made me excited all day. Finished "Exodus." Got my first letter from mother which delighted me. Dave took us riding at night and we saw the tar pits on Wilshire Blvd. After that we came home and played Tripoley.

It looks like Mom and Dad's first wedding anniversary is coming up. Slightly odd wording when Mom wrote "my husband" instead of "Dave" or "David" when referring to the gift purchase.

Mom started "Exodus" on July 25 and finished it on July 28. That's considerably shorter than 40 years.

The tar pits Mom is referring to are the La Brea Tar Pits. I definitely remember visiting there. It was one of my favorite places, with depictions of large animals getting stuck in super gooey tar and all that's left of some of them is their bones. How cool is that?

This diary entry does confirm my suspicion that my grandmother probably wrote some letters to my mother while we were in Los Angeles. Oh how I wish I had those letters as well. My grandmother could really write, as evidenced by several examples I have of her writings (fiction and non-fiction) from grade school through college (which she returned to around the age of 50). Some of those writings will make the occasional Facebook appearance.

Tripoley is a board game that combines poker and a couple of card games. Tripoli is the capital of Libya. The first time the US flag was raised in victory on foreign soil was on the shores of Tripoli in 1805. Oorah!

July 27, 1967: Tamale Pie

Diary entry for July 27, 1967:

I went to the grocery store in the AM. That afternoon I did the washing and cleaned the apartment. David Wayne has played with Tinker Toys today. We had a tamale pie for supper. I am reading "Exodus" and I cannot put it down I love it so.

Another day of normal stuff, but this time with Tinker Toys and tamale pie. I do remember playing with Tinker Toys and Lincoln Logs quite a bit. Fun Fact: Lincoln Logs were invented by John Lloyd Wright, son of Frank Lloyd Wright.

July 26, 1967: The blister

Diary entry for July 26, 1967:

David Wayne and I walked down Wilshire toward Dave's work this morning. We left at 11:00 and got back at 1:00. I bought some plates, bowl, platter, and a very pretty summer sweater. I have also rubbed a blister on my heel.

Walk, shop, walk, shop, repeat. Slow news day today. Let's hope things get a little more interesting.

In blog news, I seem to have corrected the issue with the formatting of the emails and RSS feeds, in case anybody cares. Hooray for paragraph breaks.

July 25, 1967: The Brown Derby

Diary entry for July 25, 1967:

Began reading "Exodus" this morning. Dave still in bad mood. When will this end? I pray to God that it will be soon - for David Wayne's sake. David Wayne and I walked this morning down to Wilshire and then down to Catalina. On the way back bought groceries. I feel very weak today and I just don't care about anything. We did see "The Brown Derby" on our walk. Dave was in a better mood tonight. We had a good supper and went to bed early.

Thank goodness Dad's bad mood has ended, as it was really wearing on Mom.

"Exodus" was a popular book starring Paul Newman.

The Brown Derby was a restaurant chain started in Los Angeles. According to Wikipedia, the one on Wilshire was the original building, which originally opened in 1926 about a block away and was then moved in 1937 to the location in the picture. It did look like a brown derby hat and I know we ate there frequently. In fact, here is a picture of me in front of The Brown Derby on the day we left Los Angeles. Don't I look cute with my plaid shorts and chubby legs?

If you look at the first photo in the Wikipedia article for The Brown Derby (as of today anyway), you should be able to tell exactly where I was standing based on the landscaping. You may also notice the landscaping looks quite a bit like it did in my photo, and you may then wonder if the two photos were taken at approximately the same time. If you then notice the billboard on the right side of the Wikipedia photo, you'll see it mentions someone named Geoff Edwards who was apparently a radio personality on KMPC-710. If you then look at Geoff Edwards' Wikipedia page you'll see that he worked at KMPC-701 from 1968 until 1979. Therefore, the earliest the Wikipedia photo could have been taken was 1968. Since the billboard has a quote from the L. A. Times proclaiming Geoff Edwards to be the personality of the year, I'm going to go with late 1968.

Alas, in 1980 the Brown Derby restaurant on Wilshire was replaced by Brown Derby Plaza, part of which has a crummy little dome.

July 24, 1967: Bras

Diary entry for July 24, 1967:

David Wayne and I walked this morning. We stopped at a Rx drugstore on Western, then shopped at a "Thrifty" on Beverly Blvd. I bought several things for the apt. we needed. I did buy a fancy bra at a dress store. Came home and I washed this afternoon. We had another miserable night because Dave was in a bad mood - still. Finished reading Ben-Hur.

Bra shopping with Mom. That sounds like fun.

Ben-Hur was a popular book starring Charlton Heston.

Dad's still in a bad mood, so that stinks. I'd guess it had something to do with work or family finances. I feel sorry for Mom, wondering how long that was going to last.

July 23, 1967: Bad mood

Diary entry for July 23, 1967:

Took a day of rest. We did go to the grocery store again and buy a few things. Dave got in a bad mood and it turned out very badly. David Wayne was the most upset over it all - he cried and cried.

Well, that's unfortunate. I guess life isn't always sunshine and rainbows.

As I was pondering this project I knew I would likely run across some things that might be a little uncomfortable to read, and then need to decide on a case-by-case basis whether or not to publish those sections. I don't mind posting embarrassing stuff about five-year-old me, but I know I need to be considerate of the feelings of others since Mom wasn't writing all this for a broad audience. This diary entry was a good first example to deal with, and I don't think Mom would be mortified by having it published.

Fortunately I don't remember this incident at all, and when I think back on my childhood I really can't recall any occasions where I got upset over my parents arguing in front of me. Dad was fairly new to this parenting gig at this point, having married Mom less than a year ago. So maybe my parents soon learned how to avoid letting their disagreements get to the point where I became upset. I know other children are not so fortunate.

And that's a wrap on week 1 in Los Angeles. It ended on a bad note, but at least we got here and we're getting settled into our apartment.

July 22, 1967: Restless

Diary entry for July 22, 1967:

Dave was home today. We didn't go anywhere - just wanted to rest. We did go to store and bought some things we needed. David Wayne seemed to be restless today. I cooked a big pot of red beans with ham hock. We did get a new bed which is more comfortable. We visited some with apt. manager and husband. They seem to be nice people.

Not much going on our first Saturday in Los Angeles, other than a restless five-year-old boy who just wants to go outside and play or go somewhere anywhere and do something instead of being stuck in this stupid apartment all day why can't I go outside and play?!?

The split-level bed has been replaced, so that's good. And for those of you unfamiliar with cuts of meat or porcine anatomy, the ham hock is the end of a pig's leg where the foot was attached.

Maybe we'll do something tomorrow.

July 21, 1967: No more motels

Diary entry for July 21, 1967:

DW and I took Dave to work then we drove to apt. and unloaded car. We got everything put up and it looks like home now. Dave came home and we went to grocery store. Fairly cheap considering all I bought. I cooked supper and then we just rested and enjoyed spreading out. We went to bed about 10:00 (on twin beds pushed together). Only trouble they weren't same height. DW slept on pallet.

Wasn't I a good little helper? The full address of our apartment was: 215 S. Normandie Avenue, Apt. 2 Los Angeles, CA  90004 That's about midway between Hollywood and downtown Los Angeles, so we were right in the middle of things. It looks like the building is still there based on Google Maps. I don't really recognize it from Google Street View, other than the driveway on the side dipping down from street level with parking underneath the building. I think it was all white when we lived there. Seems like there is quite a bit more security fencing around there, too.

[Edited 8-25-17 to add two pictures and commentary.]

Here is a photo of the front of the apartment building. You can see some of "215" in the upper left corner. The stonework around the stairs appears to still be there as of 2017.

And here is a photo of me standing outside our apartment building on January 7, 1968. This must be the north side of the building. Don't I look stylish in my white button-down shirt, brown pants with wide belt, white socks, and brown sandals or moccasin slippers?

As I recall it was a one bedroom apartment. Walking in the front door there was a kitchen and dining area to the right, and a living room to the left. Straight ahead must have been the bathroom, and I believe a right turn into the bedroom. I think I eventually slept on a cot in what I'm calling the dining area. For those of you unfamiliar with the term "pallet" in this context, it's a makeshift bed (likely some blankets tossed on the floor in this case), not a wooden pallet used for shipping material.

Next up: First weekend in Los Angeles

July 20, 1967: No kids? No problem.

Diary entry for July 20, 1967:

David went to work this morning. DW and I walked Sunset Blvd. We are not going to have to spend money for entertainment - just watch people. I had my hair cut. DW and I watched the people shooting a scene from movie. Andy Williams' wife was in it. David came home about 3 o'clock and we went out to look for apartment. We had a terrible time finding one that would allow children. About 6:30 we found one on Normandie Street. I really like it. Spent the night at motel for the last time.

Let's hope when we walked Sunset Boulevard I was a bit more restrained about yelling "Hippies!" when I spotted them than I was when we drove it. That movie we saw being filmed must have been The Party, released in 1968. It was directed by Blake Edwards and starred Claudine Longet (Andy Williams' wife) and Peter Sellers.  Here's the plot synopsis from IMDB: "A clerical mistake results in a bumbling Indian film star being invited to an exclusive Hollywood party instead of being fired." ["Hilarity ensues" must have been accidentally deleted from the end.] Claudine Longet divorced Andy Williams in 1975, and then was convicted of negligent homicide after fatally shooting her boyfriend (an Olympic skier) in 1976. (But she just paid a fine and had to serve 30 days. At her convenience.) I think Peter Sellers was in some other films in addition to this one. I'm going to declare this diary entry the first one of historical significance, because that movie was the only Blake Edwards - Peter Sellers collaboration that was not a Pink Panther movie. A landlord that won't rent to families with children? Hey, there ought to be a law against that. Oh wait, there is. The Fair Housing Act of 1968 made that illegal. Familial status became a protected class along with national origin, race, religion, disability, gender, or handicap. Since this was 1967, refusing to rent to families with children under 18 was still legal, causing a bit of grief for some families as you can see here. (I knew there would be some history lessons along the way. You're welcome.)

July 19, 1967: Happy Birthday!

Diary entry for July 19, 1967:

Left motel about 8:30. Got to L. A. 12:30. Finally found Wilshire Blvd after much driving. Then couldn't find motel. Checked into the low priced motel about 3. David didn't go to work. We ate a hot dog, rested, and then drove to eat supper. We are staying on Sunset Blvd. Terrible driving here and we are struck by the strange people. Boys with hair, girls with none. We are all very tired and worn out. What a birthday for me!

Yes, we finally arrived in Los Angeles on Mom's 26th birthday, "very tired and worn out" after driving for two and a half days. Dad wasn't a super romantic kind of guy, so it's no surprise there is no mention of a birthday gift or special dinner. I'm sure he got Mom something for her birthday, although maybe a day or two later. We were probably looking for Wilshire Blvd because my dad would be working at an insurance company somewhere on Wilshire. Maybe we couldn't find it because Dad was too cheap to buy a map. Another low-priced motel, but no mention of cockroaches this time. So that's a positive. Note the beginning of culture shock, starting with the hair styles of both males and females. (I assume Mom meant "boys with long hair, girls with none.") I recall being on the lookout for hippies for some reason when we moved to L. A. According to my mother I was not shy about yelling "Hippies!" out the car window as we drove down Sunset Boulevard.

July 18, 1967: Roach Motel

Diary entry for Tuesday, July 18, 1967:

Left El Paso 8:30 and drove till 9:00 - Kon Tiki Inn (200 miles from LA). DW interested in scenery a little bit. Bought him a Bowie Knife and offered to let me use it when Daddy snores. Ate supper in Yuma. Caught a big cockroach for DW in motel room. He kept it in bug catcher and had a lot of fun.

I think this drive is one of my flashback memories of the trip to L. A. It was dark and I remember there wasn't much of anything to see except the long line of red tail lights ahead of us. Sometimes straight, sometimes curved, always long. I knew we were approaching Los Angeles so I was probably hoping to see it appear in the distance any minute.

(Speaking of the drive, my Dad's car was a white 2-door hard top Pontiac Bonneville with red interior. I probably had plenty of room in the back seat.) Yes, my dad was a pretty loud snorer. I'm sure I was awakened at least once per night sharing a motel room with him. I assume I declined my mother's offer of resorting to violence to resolve the issue. We must have stayed at the now closed Kon Tiki Motel in El Centro, California. Too bad it's gone (well, changed its name a time or two) since it had a nice sign: http://www.tikiroom.com/tikicentral/bb/viewtopic.php?topic=43943&forum=2 About that motel room with the cockroach . . . Being a state employee I'm sure my dad didn't exactly have a huge salary or an uber-generous expense account, so we definitely didn't stay at any four star hotels. Of course all I cared about when it came to motels that summer was whether or not it had a pool. Yes, I was a typical little boy who liked bugs. Thank goodness my mother wasn't squeamish. I'm sure I was fascinated watching a big cockroach crawl around in my bug catcher, and I was probably sad when I wasn't allowed to take it in the car the next day.

Only 200 miles to L. A. We should get there tomorrow.

July 17, 1967: I wanna be a cowboy, baby!

Here is the first entry in Mom's diary, dated Monday, July 17, 1967. Note that I am referred to as "David Wayne" or "DW" in these diary entries.

We left Carrollton at 10:00 am. David Wayne got up and immediately put on cowboy hat, boots, belt and guns. He wanted everyone to know where he came from. We drove 12 hours and stayed at El Paso - La Posta Motel. Ate supper. Billie Sol Estes hometown.

DW adopted a mangy cat with a hole in its side at the motel. Lovely weather except heavy rain outside of El Paso. DW was very good the first day. He learned about plateaus which he renamed "flat toes."

Apparently I was really into cowboys at that age. Here's a picture of me from Christmas 1966:

That picture was taken at my grandmother's house in Denton, TX. Behind me on the couch is my mother's older brother, his wife, and I believe his wife's sister. I don't know who that is seated next to my uncle with only his legs in the picture. I suppose it could be my dad, but there are some clues that indicate otherwise. Google "Billie Sol Estes" if you want to find out about a real character from the 1960s with a possible link to the Kennedy assassination. I guess I have always liked animals. What's not to love about a mangy cat with a hole in its side? So I was good the first day. Don't expect that to continue for eight months. "Flat toes." (Some of you may consider that foreshadowing.) Another word I remember mispronouncing at that age was "bathroom," which I pronounced "brathbroom." So we didn't even make it out of Texas on the first day. Let's see how far we get on Day 2.

Introduction

On Monday, July 17, 1967, my parents and I departed Carrollton, Texas for Los Angeles, California. I had just turned five years old that month. My father had just turned 29 and my mother was days away from turning 26. We were moving to Los Angeles due to my father's temporary work assignment with the Texas State Board of Insurance, which lasted about eight months. Although I was only five I do remember being excited about the upcoming move, likely asking "Are we there yet?" whenever Mom and I traveled with my dad on his short business trips to nearby towns in Texas during the weeks before we moved. I even wrote a note to my grandmother ("Nana") in June asking her to go to Disneyland with us.

I remember living in California in a general sense, with some memories of particular places or events much stronger than others. Fortunately I have several things in my possession to help jog my memory and fill in the details regarding what happened and when, specifically:

An album of Polaroid photos with my mother's handwritten notes for each one

A collection of items such as brochures and tickets from many of the tourist attractions we visited

A large binder containing records of my father's work history (W-2 forms, pay stubs and expense reports) starting when he was bagging groceries around the age of 14 through all but his last five years with the Texas State Board of Insurance

A diary my mother started the day we left Texas

All 54 letters my mother wrote to her mother (and younger brother) while we were living in Los Angeles

I have read only a handful of those letters and diary entries over the years, so I decided the 50-year anniversary of the beginning of our trip would be a good time to start going through them chronologically, one day at a time, as they happened. This blog will chronicle both my family's journey to Los Angeles and my reliving it as I go through the physical memorabilia of that trip. I plan on writing one post for each day that had either a diary entry or a postmarked letter.

Sadly, I am unable to relive these memories with either of my parents, as my father died in 1991 and my mother died in 2015. This would certainly be a different experience if either of them were still alive.

I really have no idea what we're going to find, but there should be something for everyone, whether you want to see what I was like as a five-year-old brat, or what my parents, Los Angeles or the world were like in the late 1960s. It should be an interesting insight into the world half a century ago and how a 20-something married couple, who grew up in separate Texas towns (Denton and Belton) with a combined population of 27,500 in 1950, adjusted to life in a city of over 2.5 million in 1967.