Thugs and Ruffians Running Rampant in La Jolla
Surfing has always had a very territorial vibe at some beaches. “Locals Only”, “No Kooks” (a not-so endearing term for clueless surfers) were spray painted at popular surf spots. If you fell into that category, the tires of ‘non-locals’ may be slashed; fights over whose wave it is/was would break out on the water. But these are generally done at the better surf breaks, not the family beaches that are typically open and welcoming to all.
However, back in the late 50’s and early 60’s, all surfers in San Diego were considered hooligans and juvenile delinquents—not the clean-cut, all-American boys featured in the movies like Beach Blanket Bingo or the Gidget series, or as portrayed by The Beach Boys.
The following is an excerpt from an article that describes these oh-so contentious times.
The city was restricting surfing on bathing beaches so, when the surf was up, residents would find surfers parking, changing, hooting, honking, and generally “amping” up their neighborhood. It got so bad that the kind of disturbances that happen in any neighborhood was blamed on surfers. The presence of surfers in the neighborhood became such a contentious subject that, by the winter of 1960-1961, residents from the Sun Gold Point subdivision (where my friend Kirk lived) were gearing up to put a stop to surfing in the area.
Many residents panicked. One sobbing woman telephoned Les Earnest, San Diego City Park and Recreation Director and told him that “she feared surfboarders would actually tear her home down.”
During this era in San Diego, and La Jolla specifically, there was a constant battle between city officials and residents, over wanting a surfer-free neighborhood vs. surfers having access to the beaches.
During the summers in the 60’s, I spent quite a bit of time at my friend Kirk’s house, which was perched on the top of a beachside cliff overlooking a popular surf break. Beach access was through a small walkway between his and a neighbor’s house that surfers and tide-poolers alike, would use to get to the water.
I remember many times watching the police issue parking tickets up and down the street to cars suspected of belonging to surfers. I also recall a day when several surfers were hauled away in handcuffs.
Their crime? Surfing.
What’s interesting is that in 1963, during this time of lawless beachgoing, the Tourmaline Surf Park was built by the City of San Diego, mere blocks from my friend’s house. Many times, Kirk and I would navigate the rocky beach and walk over to Tourmaline. Once there, we’d hang out inside a large storm drain pipe that would empty onto the beach when it rained.
Along with its history of thugs in surf trunks running roughshod over neighbor’s lawns, La Jolla has also held the notoriety of being an expensive community to live in, which was and still is very much true, deserved or not.
As an example, I remember my mother asking the landlord of my grandmother’s apartment if she needed anything at the post office, as my mom was going into town to do some shopping. “Oh, no,” the landlord replied, “Postage stamps cost too much in La Jolla.”
Uhmm, no, they didn’t and still don’t
Beyond the high price of homes and postage, the small community of La Jolla has had a fair number of residents go on to bigger and better things than causing trouble while hanging out at the beach.
Well, sort of . . .
Albert Hernandez, whose son, John, was a close friend of mine from kindergarten through high school, pioneered the Americanized version of the margarita which is made in a blender as opposed to hand-shaken.
Raquel Welch graduated from La Jolla High in 1958 and was Miss La Jolla
Actress and Golden Globe winner, Robin Wright (Penn) graduated from La Jolla High in 1983
Rusty Preisendorfer, who graduated from LJHS in ’71, went on to establish the world renown ‘Rusty’ line of surfboards and clothing.
Bill Andrews, another graduate of LJHS. Made the cover of Surfer Magazine in 1965 and later became a legendary surf-related photographer/videographer/archivist.
As a long-ago surfer myself, I’ll close with Andrews' own words, “Every day spent surfing was worth it, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”