Speaking of old TV and radio brought back some memories, for some reason got to thinking of Peter Potter, used to watch him on TV in the early and mid-50’s in San Diego. Watched him on a little 10” Admiral. I think we might even have seen Sammy Davis before his accident. I do remember seeing him on there shortly after his accident.
As I recall, Potter was in LA, had a late night show and if guests showed up, he stayed on, otherwise they just shut off. Those were the days.
I was in the Navy then, San Diego, and it was a Navy town. We had a small apartment, I think everyone else in the apartments were also service connected. In those days, when we moved in, it was half furnished. The people before us got transferred and left what they had, so we only needed to get a few things. You don’t find that anymore. There was even an old ‘39 four door Ford that had been left by someone, the keys were in our apartment, so we drove it, along with some other tenants.
I took a bus back and forth to the base, so we really didn’t use a car much. Groceries we got once a week at the PX or whatever it was called, and generally someone was driving so we rode with them.
(Ernie, if you read this, maybe you can help me out here, memory if fuzzy)
Carefree days, no doubt about that, not a care in the world.
I remember on a number of evenings, someone or some child would have a cold, so a number of guys and gals, also with colds would meet at one apartment, close the doors, turn on the TV, get a Vicks Vaporizer or two going, and we all watched TV, coughed, and breathed in the Vicks. Seems like we all got better, and lived through it all. It was a “all for one and one for all” environment.
I remember one time, someone in my office at the Naval Station, bought a second hand Harley. “Anyone ridden a motorcycle?”
“I have,” I replied, “well, actually a motor scooter, but about the same thing.”
So after work I rode with him, way out, and across town, in San Diego. I knew very little about Harleys, but my brother had an old Indian, and I knew a little from watching him. This Harley had the old “suicide clutch.” I got it started, got it into first, maybe second and followed him all the way home, through downtown San Diego and way out where he lived.
I made it though, really don’t know how, and did it pretty much in second gear. Amazing how you can do anything when you are young, and think nothing of it. I forget his name, he was a First Class Yeoman. I never let on how frightened I was, but I had to keep up with him, I didn’t know where he lived, so I had to follow him.
