Arlandria Days
Part 10 - The Hi-Y, Toilets, “Tank” Johnson
During his high school years at Wakefield, Austin was a member of one of the Hi-Y service groups. Hi-Ys were service oriented groups for high school students and were initially affiliated with the Y.M.C.A.; this changed in 1967 as a result of a Supreme Court ruling disallowing religious activities in schools. Austin’s group, the Ultimi Hi-Y, met on Wednesday nights and he often refers to the club as the “masters of mayhem.” He adds, “Our Hi-Y really was a service organization. We did other real good things with good participation from all members.” Their projects ranged from community work - food and clothing drives - to school events. One such effort involved Wakefield’s Pep Rally and accompanying Float Competition.
After weeks of planning, Austin and his Hi-Y club decided to build an oversized toilet as their float. Made of wood, it came about primarily through the fine efforts of Waldo Hicks. “It was a great float,” notes Austin. The idea was that five of the Hi-Y members would wear the Homecoming opponent’s jerseys: Washington-Lee High. These five were then “thrown” into the oversized toilet: Underneath, the ever enterprising Waldo would toss out a bucket of water (signifying the flush). All competitors in the float contest had to name someone - ostensibly a girl - as their Homecoming Queen nominee. Naturally, Austin’s Hi-Y group consisted of only boys. And, naturally, they won the competition. As a result, Tom Lion became Wakefield’s first - and maybe last - male Homecoming Queen. Everyone, says Austin, had a good laugh at the announcement.
Big John, as the enormous toilet came to be known, continued its life of service after Homecoming. Waldo, with the help of others, built a sleigh from it during the Christmas season. Austin continues, “Big John lived another day. We had a contest…who could collect the most food for the needy. Big John was huge [and] we filled it full. Measured in cubic feet, it was plenty.” With muted yet lingering regret, Austin writes, “We were really disappointed when we did not get Hi-Y Of The Year. The fix was in…I’m sure the [school] administration could not let this happen. Our group was more creative and imaginative than the rest of them.” Some teachers, he adds, “…said that we should have got it, but our reputations proceeded us.” He opines that “…we were all trying to conform to what the bastards wanted and they did not know how to handle it.” In disgust, they walked out of the ceremony for Hi-Y Of The Year.
One of the greater mysteries at Wakefield High during Austin’s schooling was the appearance of a Johnny-On-The-Spot (portable toilet) on the library roof. The library was one side of an expansive courtyard more commonly known as the Senior Court. Classrooms provided two more sides, while the faculty offices completed the quadrangle. The Senior Court was considered a privilege and frequented by seniors with stellar academic records. In an effort to keep out the riff-raff and underachievers, deserving Wakefield seniors were issued Merit Cards which allowed them access to the Court during school hours.
Perhaps in retribution for not winning the Hi-Y Of The Year award, Austin’s “masters of mayhem” decided to stage an event. Appropriating a portable toilet from a local construction site, the club members stashed it away until putting their plan into play. Late one afternoon, Craig Chute and Austin headed to the Senior Court, ducking “anyone of importance” on their way, while pulling the Johnny-On-The-Spot. Unlike the mammoth Big John, this portable toilet was made of much lighter fiberglass; wisely, they did not take the bottom portion that served as the receptacle. Following along moments later were others: Byron Wilkins, Neil Fink, John Rohrback, Bob Riordan, Chuck Humphrey, and the irrepressible Jim Campbell. It was, as Austin proudly adds, “a coordinated effort.” As Byron Wilkins and Neil Fink climbed up to the roof, the others began hoisting the portable toilet up the side of the library. Austin points out that this wasn’t too difficult since “it was the top portion, not the poopy bottom…much less weight.” Once it was in place, they beat a hasty retreat.
Reputations, however, move faster than feet. The following day, Austin was called to the office of the appropriately named Tank Johnson, Wakefield’s Dean of Boys. True to the schoolyard code of Omerta, Austin declares, “There was no way I was going to rat.” Amazingly, the others were not called in. When pressed to name names during Tank’s inquisition, Austin replied that, “…I knew who the participants were, but what kind of a guy would I be if I ratted them out.” Johnson replied by giving Austin 10 days of detention, or as Austin creatively calls it, “The after school cure-all for wayward students.” Except in Austin’s case.
As a senior, Austin shared a locker with the infamous Jim Campbell. The locker was modified, however, with the center panel removed and set to the side. This allowed Austin and Jim to always keep 2 six-packs of beer on hand. During one of Wakefield’s infrequent locker inspections, Ms. Skorupa wanted to take a look at theirs. Austin quickly replied, “Ms. Skorupa, there are naked pictures of women all over the locker, which might embarrass you.” It worked for Ms. Skorupa wordlessly moved on to the next locker.
On another occasion, Austin was suspended from school for three days for “…something I did not do.” He told Tank Johnson, “[you] really did not want my mother to come back in with me.” Predictably, Tank failed to heed Austin’s advice. The following day, Austin, accompanied by his mother, arrived at Tank’s office. His mother, Austin comments, was perturbed at having to take a day off from work. While she met alone with Tank in his office, Austin listened intently outside the door. “All I could hear was my mother telling him that she had to take a day off from work,” he recalls clearly, “...to listen to this stuff about her son, then she turned over his inkwell and stomped out.” Grabbing Austin by the ear, they left the school. Perhaps Tank finally understood Austin’s earlier caution about calling in his mother. In any event, Austin concludes, “After that, Tank Johnson steered clear of me.”
Future matters involving Austin’s discipline were now the responsibility of Ms. Mare. His first encounter with Ms. Mare involved a cow that happened to be on the roof of the school. Although he gladly accepted responsibility for his other stunts, Austin comments, “I swear I no nothing about the cow on the roof. That was an outside job.” The next stunt, however, was entirely of his doing. The previously mentioned merit card system was handled by the class president and his minions. One day, Austin walked in while Larry White was preparing the cards, which involved listing the cards with their corresponding names and numbers. Austin strode up to Larry and, “…told him I wanted a card.” Larry replied that Austin - due to his grades and perpetual discipline issues - did not qualify. Austin retorted, “El toro dodo, I’ve been here longer than most of the teachers.” With that, he snatched the list and signed his name for Merit Card #100. Larry’s face froze in horror, and Austin eased his fear by telling him, “Tell the principal that I threatened you with a pounding. That way you can cover your ass.”
This seemed to work for Larry, and for Austin until an English teacher named Acker discovered the ruse. Acker, Austin tells me, “…messed in my business and turned me in to the authorities.” In this case, the authorities were really the Assistant Principal, little Henry Renz, who Austin describes as a likeable kind of guy albeit "wormy" in behavior. Austin recounts the meeting: “Well, Mr. Renz and I met…that day as I looked down on the top of his head. He asked for the card and I gave it to him, being the nice guy that I am.” As expected, Renz started with the usual lecture, but Austin cut him short. “I didn't need the lecture,” he relates, “My next question was "how many days" in detention.” Either from shock or - more likely- resignation, Renz told Austin to get out of his office, and Austin closes, “So ended my adventure with the Senior merit card scandal.”
End of Part 10
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Arlandria Days - Part 9
Arlandria Days
Part 9 - Georgetown, Streetcars, Beer and Food
Across the Potomac River from Arlandria lies Georgetown, a (now) ritzy and very affluent neighborhood in the Northwest section of Washington, D.C. Founded in 1751, Georgetown functioned primarily as a trading post and dockyard for many years. By the 1950s, a new influx of post-war residents arrived. Wealthy and well-educated, they began Georgetown’s metamorphosis from dockyard to the fashionable and trendy one we see today. In the late 1950s and early 60s, though, Georgetown was still very raw and counted many bars, clubs and late night eateries as its primary draw.
Austin was 17 or 18 when he “discovered” Georgetown. To get there, he would sometimes ride a streetcar from the old Rosslyn Circle, located just across the river. Joining the streetcar station on Rosslyn Circle was a Marriott Hotel, an oil distributor named Griffiths Consumers, Little Tavern, and the Wagon Wheel and Vineyard Restaurants. As with many locals, nights of drinking and carousing in Georgetown often ended with a few burgers at Little Tavern, a now-defunct local chain of hamburger restaurants. Today, the circle and Little Tavern are gone, and the original Marriott has been replaced by the newer and bigger Key Bridge Marriott. Austin notes that the old hotel still exists, located in the back of the new one and likely used for housekeeping and storage.
Little Tavern was a chain of hamburger joints that once operated in the DC area.
Streetcars were once an important mode of transportation in Washington. Between 1862 and 1962, their tracks were ubiquitous in the city. When O. Roy Chalk bought the system in 1963, he switched the newly renamed system - DC Transit, a precursor to the Washington Metropolitan Area Transportation Association (WMATA) - to buses and the age of streetcars effectively ended. Austin, like many local residents, wishes “we had the streetcars back and I bet the D.C. City Council wishes they were back also.” They went everywhere, he adds, even out to the Glen Echo Amusement Park in Bethesda, Maryland.
Politics is always at the forefront of any issue in the DC area. Austin explains that, “As I understand it, O. Roy Chalk went to the D.C. and Federal government for a subsidy” to continue running the streetcar system. He was denied. As a result, Austin adds, “Now look what you have for a subsidy. Metro (WMATA) will always operate in the red.” Every local election lists transportation issues as one of the keys to help the area - and win the election. “We in the D.C. area have had many opportunities to improve our transportation problems,” he notes, and closes with the proper criticism that, “…alas, our politicians have let us down so many times.”
D.C. Transit streetcar in 1962 (above). Although the trolley is gone, the tracks remain on many streets in D.C. (below)
The very first business one spots after crossing Key Bridge into D.C. is the infamous Dixie Liquors. Austin told me that he “bought my first bottle there, and my second, and my third. You get the idea.” Jules’ Bar & Restaurant sat on the south side of M Street, where the club Desperados once operated. To Austin, Jules remains “…dear to our hearts because we would get schooners of beer there for a quarter.” At that time, the drinking age in D.C. was 18 or older. Joining Austin at Jules’ were Charlie Weiss and a few football players from Wakefield. Since only one of them had a legal ID to buy alcohol. The waitress would ask for an ID, which was enough to her since she usually remarked, “Well, I’m not going to look at all of them." Austin related that the boys “…had a rule: If you get trashed, we take you out so as not to ruin a good thing.” The rule, I’ve been told, was rigidly enforced. After a night at Jules’, and if they couldn’t wait for Rosslyn, the boys would sometimes walk over to the Little Tavern on M Street, where they would buy a bag of mini-burgers for $2.00.
Although the visits to D.C. provided an opportunity to meet teens from other areas in DC, the primary purpose would be drinking. Some nights, Austin had no idea how he got home. He suspects Charlie Weiss took care of them: “Charlie could drink some beer. It never seemed to bother him.” One drinking adventure, in particular, remains clear in his memory: “One night, we started out for Glen Echo Park, not having had anything to drink, began to drink en route and were well on our way when we got there. Naturally we had to ride the roller coaster. What a mistake. Of course, we had to sit in the front car. By the time we got to the second climb, we blew dinner all over ourselves, and the people behind us. Thank God there were only a few of us on the ride. We were a mess. We went to the coffee early that night. Before you know it, we were wide awake drunk with the jitters. We sat down for a long time so we would be able to get home.”
On evenings when the boys were sufficiently sober, sometimes they would take the 14th Street Bridge back to Virginia, primarily to stop at Hot Shoppes (at the end on the VA side). It was a scene that would be repeated many times over the years until, per Austin, “Georgetown turned to crap.” He continues to reminisce, “I miss the days of the Rive Gouche and quaint shops, streetcar tracks, cobblestone streets, and low priced schooners.”
Through the early days of networking (or socializing, as it was called in his era), Austin became friendly with a number of teens from Washington-Lee High School. To Austin, schooling at Wakefield, the Washington-Lee kids were “our bitter enemies from the north side.” They did share one love: Mario's Pizza on Wilson Boulevard. Mario's, he relates, had the best pizza in town. More importantly, he adds, many “good looking north side women hung out there.” It was certainly a different era for Mario's also ran a miniature golf course, complete with live animals. Austin worked there for a short time, adding, “Jobs were plentiful for a capitalist willing to work.” Some of his duties involved the animals, including a full-sized eagle, a monkey (whom Austin refers to as “a filthy bastard”), and a Macaw. There were other benefits, besides the pizza, for it was at Mario’s that Austin met Lynn Namey. She was “…one pretty lady from McLean that I had this thing for…it was a short tryst.” But not short enough to be forgotten.
Mario's Pizza in Clarendon. The monkey is gone.
End of Part 9
Part 9 - Georgetown, Streetcars, Beer and Food
Across the Potomac River from Arlandria lies Georgetown, a (now) ritzy and very affluent neighborhood in the Northwest section of Washington, D.C. Founded in 1751, Georgetown functioned primarily as a trading post and dockyard for many years. By the 1950s, a new influx of post-war residents arrived. Wealthy and well-educated, they began Georgetown’s metamorphosis from dockyard to the fashionable and trendy one we see today. In the late 1950s and early 60s, though, Georgetown was still very raw and counted many bars, clubs and late night eateries as its primary draw.
Austin was 17 or 18 when he “discovered” Georgetown. To get there, he would sometimes ride a streetcar from the old Rosslyn Circle, located just across the river. Joining the streetcar station on Rosslyn Circle was a Marriott Hotel, an oil distributor named Griffiths Consumers, Little Tavern, and the Wagon Wheel and Vineyard Restaurants. As with many locals, nights of drinking and carousing in Georgetown often ended with a few burgers at Little Tavern, a now-defunct local chain of hamburger restaurants. Today, the circle and Little Tavern are gone, and the original Marriott has been replaced by the newer and bigger Key Bridge Marriott. Austin notes that the old hotel still exists, located in the back of the new one and likely used for housekeeping and storage.
Little Tavern was a chain of hamburger joints that once operated in the DC area.
Streetcars were once an important mode of transportation in Washington. Between 1862 and 1962, their tracks were ubiquitous in the city. When O. Roy Chalk bought the system in 1963, he switched the newly renamed system - DC Transit, a precursor to the Washington Metropolitan Area Transportation Association (WMATA) - to buses and the age of streetcars effectively ended. Austin, like many local residents, wishes “we had the streetcars back and I bet the D.C. City Council wishes they were back also.” They went everywhere, he adds, even out to the Glen Echo Amusement Park in Bethesda, Maryland.
Politics is always at the forefront of any issue in the DC area. Austin explains that, “As I understand it, O. Roy Chalk went to the D.C. and Federal government for a subsidy” to continue running the streetcar system. He was denied. As a result, Austin adds, “Now look what you have for a subsidy. Metro (WMATA) will always operate in the red.” Every local election lists transportation issues as one of the keys to help the area - and win the election. “We in the D.C. area have had many opportunities to improve our transportation problems,” he notes, and closes with the proper criticism that, “…alas, our politicians have let us down so many times.”
D.C. Transit streetcar in 1962 (above). Although the trolley is gone, the tracks remain on many streets in D.C. (below)
The very first business one spots after crossing Key Bridge into D.C. is the infamous Dixie Liquors. Austin told me that he “bought my first bottle there, and my second, and my third. You get the idea.” Jules’ Bar & Restaurant sat on the south side of M Street, where the club Desperados once operated. To Austin, Jules remains “…dear to our hearts because we would get schooners of beer there for a quarter.” At that time, the drinking age in D.C. was 18 or older. Joining Austin at Jules’ were Charlie Weiss and a few football players from Wakefield. Since only one of them had a legal ID to buy alcohol. The waitress would ask for an ID, which was enough to her since she usually remarked, “Well, I’m not going to look at all of them." Austin related that the boys “…had a rule: If you get trashed, we take you out so as not to ruin a good thing.” The rule, I’ve been told, was rigidly enforced. After a night at Jules’, and if they couldn’t wait for Rosslyn, the boys would sometimes walk over to the Little Tavern on M Street, where they would buy a bag of mini-burgers for $2.00.
Although the visits to D.C. provided an opportunity to meet teens from other areas in DC, the primary purpose would be drinking. Some nights, Austin had no idea how he got home. He suspects Charlie Weiss took care of them: “Charlie could drink some beer. It never seemed to bother him.” One drinking adventure, in particular, remains clear in his memory: “One night, we started out for Glen Echo Park, not having had anything to drink, began to drink en route and were well on our way when we got there. Naturally we had to ride the roller coaster. What a mistake. Of course, we had to sit in the front car. By the time we got to the second climb, we blew dinner all over ourselves, and the people behind us. Thank God there were only a few of us on the ride. We were a mess. We went to the coffee early that night. Before you know it, we were wide awake drunk with the jitters. We sat down for a long time so we would be able to get home.”
On evenings when the boys were sufficiently sober, sometimes they would take the 14th Street Bridge back to Virginia, primarily to stop at Hot Shoppes (at the end on the VA side). It was a scene that would be repeated many times over the years until, per Austin, “Georgetown turned to crap.” He continues to reminisce, “I miss the days of the Rive Gouche and quaint shops, streetcar tracks, cobblestone streets, and low priced schooners.”
Through the early days of networking (or socializing, as it was called in his era), Austin became friendly with a number of teens from Washington-Lee High School. To Austin, schooling at Wakefield, the Washington-Lee kids were “our bitter enemies from the north side.” They did share one love: Mario's Pizza on Wilson Boulevard. Mario's, he relates, had the best pizza in town. More importantly, he adds, many “good looking north side women hung out there.” It was certainly a different era for Mario's also ran a miniature golf course, complete with live animals. Austin worked there for a short time, adding, “Jobs were plentiful for a capitalist willing to work.” Some of his duties involved the animals, including a full-sized eagle, a monkey (whom Austin refers to as “a filthy bastard”), and a Macaw. There were other benefits, besides the pizza, for it was at Mario’s that Austin met Lynn Namey. She was “…one pretty lady from McLean that I had this thing for…it was a short tryst.” But not short enough to be forgotten.
Mario's Pizza in Clarendon. The monkey is gone.
End of Part 9
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