The Tony Alva Story

Tony Alva
Image: William Sharp

The Tony Alva Story is released tomorrow and I spoke with Tony today because I wanted to see if there were any things he wanted to talk about that weren’t really covered in the film. I know that the surfer Bunker Spreckels had a huge impact on his career and life. He spoke candidly about his old friend and mentor. He also discussed the film itself and his take on the whole thing. – Ozzie

Bunker Speckels and friend with Tony Alva
Image: Art Brewer

“I lived with Bunker Spreckels the last couple years of his life. I lived with him in Hollywood and in Hawaii. He had a townhouse there in Turtle Bay and it was actually the last place I saw him before he passed away. You see, Bunker and guys like Torger Johnson really taught me about attitude. Winning. Seeing the way they were helped shape my thinking. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t know if I would’ve won the World Championships. I mean, I had to beat older skaters who had been competing for years already. I had to beat Torger himself. I had to beat Bruce Logan, Stacy Peralta… I had to go in there ready to be the best. It was the only mindset I could have. It was me against the world. Bunker taught me that. That’s why it was so hard to get that phone call. I had left Hawaii and when I went to go to the airport, Bunker was looking tore up. I knew he was using hard drugs but I hoped he’d get it together. He gave me a hug and a look like, “Don’t worry about me.” He said, “I’ll see you in LA.” That was the last time I saw him. I was staying at my dads place when I got back to California when I received the call that he’d been found over dosed in a house right in front of Pipeline. It was only a week later. That was profoundly hard on me. But, I still utilize things Bunker taught me back then. Maybe that’s the best tribute I can make.”

Bunker and TA
Image: Art Brewer

“I think that one of the things about the film that I find interesting, is that the Alva Posse gets their recognition. I mean, these are some pretty influential skateboarders. Fred Smith. Dave Duncan. Billy Danforth. All of them. They sold a bunch of boards. The Alva Posse photograph with all of us in the leather jackets is in there. It was in Chicago on a rooftop. We were all there at the same time for a shop gig, a demo…  something. Scott Gross specialized in B&W film so we went up on the roof and took it. All in all, the film is just another interpretation of things. Buddy and Rick put it together and Jeff Grosso guides it. It’s a bit heartbreaking to watch now. It’s almost Jeff’s film rather than mine. In it, he talks about the price I payed and skateboarders pay sometimes to live the life some of us lead. He is quoting my Skateboarder Interview. He quotes, “Be prepared to suffer the consequences.” Then Jeff states, “I’m a perfect example of that.” Jeff gets to the end of the film…  before the end ever arrives. I hope everyone likes the film. Thank you to all involved.” Tony Alva

Thank you to TA. Thank you to Art Brewer and William Sharp for the images. Ozzie

Back in the Day / Big Day Out

Back in the Day. For the skaters in our book, the term itself describes a time when they were young and pushing the limits of a little known past time called ‘skateboarding’. They’ll all generally disagree on everything regarding those short years, especially details like who did what first and on and on and on. What they won’t disagree on is that this period was the absolute best time of their lives. From 1975 – 1980, William Sharp was on these pool, pipe and park missions and he shot the key players in the most secretive and exclusive locations. It was during this particular period that skateboarding evolved from a flat land, 360 spinning, head-standing, short-shorts wearing fad and exploded into something with a fucking soul. It took a bunch of surfers to explore banked school yards, empty pools and pipes. They took the classic coolness of surfing and applied everything about it into their skating. Skateboarding was pretty small then but it exploded rapidly in a short time. The magazines were publishing photographs of this raw new form of self expression. Stories were told of high adventure, partying, mayhem and fun. It wasn’t long before skaters everywhere were looking for increasingly radical terrain.

Lance Mountain, Brad Bowman, Jay Smith, Arthur Viecco, me

Lance Mountain and Brad Bowman

The San Fernando Valley was filled with pools. Brad Bowman, Arthur Viecco, Eric Grisham and Jay Smith didn’t need a skateboard magazine or the Dog Town skaters to tell them a damn thing about pool skating. They’d been living it from the first moment they rode a skateboard. The SFV had more pools in a three mile square area than all of Santa Monica put together! These guys became new heroes to so many. The magazine Skateboard World published image after image, of skater after skater, in pool after pool. They never ran out.

Brad Bowman

Lance Mountain

Progress never slowed and style was kept to a premium. They pushed each other and conquered themselves. Among them was Jay Smith. Jay Smith skated pools everywhere and he adapted quickly. When choosing the new cover for the Back in the Day / Fun Size edition, we knew exactly what image was going on it. The Jay Smith hip lapover at Mondo’s pool. A couple days ago, William Sharp and I gathered the guys at a local pool that we have. Eric Grisham, Arthur Viecco, Jay Smith and Brad Bowman joined Rick Stine and Lance Mountain and all of us sat and talked and took a few turns.

Eric Grisham

Arthur Viecco

Everyone was saying how cool it was to be together in a backyard pool again. It was like being young… carefree and in the moment. All of the burdens of adulthood slipped away. No Covid, family strife, no bills, no broken bodies or aching muscles… all of that was gone. It was just us on skateboards fighting a common enemy. Ourselves. I have respect for everyone in the book. Some more than others. It was fascinating for me to sit there and watch the interaction among them. What is new for me, is old tradition with them. I’m an observer. I know that collectively, they are the reason I am what I am. I am grateful for that. Thank you.

Rick Stine, Brad Bowman, me, Arthur Viecco, Jay Smith, Eric Grisham and Lance Mountain

Thank you to all of the skaters in the book and thank you to William Sharp for the photographs. Thank you to Geoff Graham for the book portraits.  http://gingkopress.com/shop/back-in-the-day-mini/

Raleigh

The helicopter that pulled them out of the desert bounced and dipped in the fire blast. Smoke poured in as it careened to one side and Raleigh saw the burning buildings through the side door far away below him. People were holding onto anything… Bullets ripped through the metal panels… punching their way through and seeking flesh. “Fuck!” He grabbed onto the webbing straps on the wall as the old helicopter caught an updraft and pulled them away. His eyes caught Corporal Candela’s… they both shook their heads. That was fucking close. Timmons was screaming in the back and the Doc was sliding around in his blood as the chopper bucked and rutted. Candela screamed at him and pointed towards Timmons and the Doc. “Go!”

He found himself pulling bandages and handing them to the Doc. Timmons was covered in blood and his leg pumped huge arcs across the metal riveted panels beside him “Cover this! Pressure! Pressure here!” Doc was scrambling around trying to keep the fluids inside Timmons… Raleigh looked at Timmons face. He pressed his knee down onto his thigh and the bandages saturated with Timmons life… a life quickly being lost. He grabbed Timmons on either side of his face, “Hang on man! Listen to me… ”  Timmons was mumbling but he couldn’t understand anything in the noise and chaos. Raleigh looked back at the others lining the webbing straps and hanging on. They watched. Some looked away. They had all been to bootcamp and Infantry Training School together. They drank beer , watched football, talked about fucking girls they never fucked…  time honored tradition. Raleigh glanced back at Timmons. He hoped for something… Empty eyed. Nothing. The Doc shook his head in the negative and they covered him with a shelter half as the chopper slid through the night. Grim cargo. A dark metal death merchant filled with the best and worst sort of men. They were their own and each one trusted the other far beyond a bloodline. Marines.

Camp Pendleton

After being deployed, the remnants of the platoon went home. Rotation complete. Weeks turned into months. New boots (recruits fresh out of boot camp) refilled the unit. Life returned to boredom, live fire exercises and beer drinking contests. Raleigh missed Timmons, as did the other guys. He held his head high when on base. He now had a CAR (Combat Action Ribbon) and unlike these REMFs (rear echelon mother fuckers), it commanded respect. He drove off base for a 96 and wondered what to do with his days off. The beaches were busy and crowded. He used to surf and skate with Timmons but… He shook his head and turned up the stereo. Warrell Dane of Nevermore shrieked like the voice of doom. “I am the darkness. I’m waiting for you!” Raleigh smiled grimly.

Later, his cellphone vibrated and he saw a text from Mattson. Matthew Mattson was a Corporal in Echo Company. He skated whenever he wasn’t on the base. He called him. “Sup dude? Anything going on…?” Raleigh mumbled something about driving by the beach and chilling. Mattson told him about a new pool his buddies were skating. It was in Anaheim. They were riding it the next day and a couple Pro skaters were going to come. “You should roll up and hang. It’ll be fun.”  Raleigh had him text the address.

The next day found him in Anaheim. He was drinking coffee out in front of a typical 1950’s ranch home. Quiet streets. People walking dogs. Huge palm trees rustling in the morning light. Idyllic. Raleigh wasn’t sure he could skate a pool. They were hard to ride. But, he’d done more difficult things. He wished Timmons was here with him. Timmons had grown up in Orange County. He’d ridden the big indoor Vans Skatepark bowl. He rode pools too. Flipping the sun visor down, he pulled a photo from it. It was part of his squad. Timmons, Candela, Cole, Meddlins, Fain and Kroft. They were… death on a moonless night. Grim. Raleigh put the photo away and sipped his coffee. It was still hard to believe Timmons wasn’t coming back. Death has a strange finality to it. Takes all you are… and all you’ll be.  A car pulled in behind him. Mattson was here. They greeted each other and moved to the backyard of the house. The owner came out and said “Hello” to the others joining them. Lance Mountain, Rick Stine, Tristan Rennie, Marlon Whitfield, Grant Taylor and Ray Zimmerman.

Lance Mountain

Tristan Rennie

Marlon Whitfield

Grant Taylor

Raleigh watched as the crew swept and cleaned the pool out. They carved around and felt it out. A math puzzle. Each wall was different. Every turn left a possibility. Lance Mountain flew over the deathbox. Marlon Whitfield didn’t leave the challenge unanswered and quickly put a check mark beside the same box. Grant Taylor bombed the ladder and went faster than anyone on earth. Tristan Rennie poked a Gunnair over the ladder and the rest of the crew held their own. When all was said and done, Raleigh felt that Timmons would’ve been proud. The hot sun. A new pool. Friends. They were doing what they loved most.

Ozzie

Thanks to MRZ for the images. Skate- Ozzie

A Woodward Story

Buster Halterman
Wellsville Pa
Image: Graham

I was skating with Buster Halterman and Nick Rinker in Buster’s barn one afternoon and Buster asked me if I wanted to go along with them to a sports camp the following weekend about two hours away. They were riding in a demo at this camp during the BMX nationals. Some bike pros were going to ride vert and we were going to cruise along and fill out the session.

Nick Rinker Image: Graham

I went along and it would ultimately change the course of my life. Woodward Camp is a world famous gymnastics camp and — at the time — one half was made up of gymnasts from all over the planet, while the other half had a small BMX / skateboarding program. It was run by a skateboarder from Florida and his name is Mike Speranzo.

Mike Speranzo Image: Graham

I went to Woodward Camp with Buster and Nick that day. I met some really cool people. I’m pretty sure that Chris Guilfoose and Mark Podgurski were there. Rob Randolph and Alan John were there as well. The camp had an outdoor street course with quarter pipes, pyramids and mini ramps. There was a massive vert ramp connected to a seven or eight foot medium ramp as well. All of the outdoor surfaces were covered in blue steel. There was an indoor building called the Morton Building. I believe it was the manufacturers name. Anyway, it had a great mini ramp and amazing bowl built out of wood and surfaced in masonite. Legendary ramp builder Tim Payne had built some of the new stuff at Woodward. We arrived that day and just started skating all over the place. Everyone was super nice and cool. They fed us and took very good care of the crew the entire time. I thought, “What kind of place is this?! Here… in the mountains of Pennsylvania?” I was in awe.

Chad Vogt Image: Graham

Chris Guilfoose
Image: Graham

Mike Speranzo told me about the early days at Woodward. “In 1989, Gary Ream contacted Vision. I was going to go Pro for them. Vision sponsored a contest there in 1989 and I was sent there. Tim Payne had built a ramp for a skate camp in St. Louis and Gator and other skaters were teaching kids skateboarding. I didn’t have anything going on in Florida and I thought it a really good opportunity.The idea of teaching skateboarding appealed to me. I went to Woodward. It was a BMX camp and Everett Rosecrans of Vans would come with riders. Greg Flowers built the first Woodward vert ramp for the bike riders. It was kinked but rideable. We ended up helping build the street course snowplow and other stuff to skate. We repaired the kink in the vert ramp, drilled steel all day and layered everything with steel sheeting. Skate camp started with fifteen campers the first session. In the spring of 1990, Tim Payne built the outdoor vert ramp, the spine and Morton bowl and mini ramp. The BMX Nationals were that May. That is when you came up with Buster and Nick. Over the years, it grew pretty well. The industry changed and the campers coming were different. Street took front stage and it all changed and was strange. I just remember the ‘Golden Hour’ sessions on the vert ramp with my friends. The cornfields, nature, the mountains. I always think of those things. We all grew up there in those summers at Woodward. We became better people.”

Mike Speranzo
Graham photo

During the upcoming year, I kept in touch with Mike Speranzo. I got to see his band ‘Out of the Blue’ perform in State College / Penn State a couple of times. When it came time to hire some staff, I applied and Mike hired me as a cabin counselor. I think it was Buster Halterman, Brian Patch, Andy Macdonald and a few others. We each had a cabin full of frothing skaters, ages 12-17 years old. There was no air conditioning and many of them didn’t want to shower. It was a hotbox of nastiness, filthy pads and farting children. The skaters would arrive on Sunday morning and Sunday evening we would set up stations around the skate park. Each was numbered. 1- mini ramp, 2- bowl, 3-rails, 4- street course, 5- micro ramp, 6- vert ramp, 7- ledges, 8- pyramid etc etc. There were 12 stations and each one had an accomplished staff skater that would evaluate each camper. Mike would plug all this information into twelve groups of beginner, intermediate and advanced skaters. Monday morning, we’d separate them into groups and go from station to station for thirty minutes to an hour. That way, every camper would move through the camp working on different aspects of skating with staff assistance. It worked pretty well and I know of many skaters that learned a great deal with this system.

Paul Zitzer
Image: Thompson

Tom Boyle R.I.P. and Paul Zitzer
Image: Thompson

Tony Magnussen Image: Graham

 

Matt Dove

Mark Podgurski Image: Graham

Summer to Fall. The leaves changed and all things with it. Snow came and covered the camp and its ramps. Nothing moved in the frozen spaces. I walked the narrow path between the camp cabins and marveled at how unusual it was to be here only a few months earlier with a thousand people living a dream… the time of our lives. Now… ice and the sleepy season. Life will be life. Summer was the destination and Woodward Camp became the driving force in my life for awhile. I met with Gary Ream that day and we talked about me helping as assistant to Mike Speranzo that coming summer. Spring found me drilling masonite sheets, moving lumber and hiring skate staff. Every second of every day was accounted for. It was the Woodward way. The kids were coming. As skateboarding changed from transition skating to street skating, Woodward evolved with it. The owners – Gary Ream and Ed Isabelle never flinched when it came to building ramps, ledges, banks and — in some cases — buildings full of stuff to skate. They trusted the people that gave them advice and those that rode. They saw the summer numbers increasing. They made money. It was working well.

Donny Barley

Donny Barley

Tony Hawk Morton Building Bowl Image: Kanights

Woodward Camp Image: Kanights

Campers Lunch – Think Team / Wade Speyer/ Greg Carroll / Brian Howard

Tom ‘The Rock’ Boyle R.I.P. Image: Kanights

Tim Payne and a crew were frequently at Woodward from March until June. Many of its early skatepark additions were Tim Payne’s craftsmanship.  In those days, Woodward had visiting Pros each week. It was a general rotation. Sometimes a team would come through for a few days. I started working with people I knew to get the Pro street riders that I knew campers would want to see.

Neal Hendrix Image: Thompson

Tom Rock Boyle R.I.P.
Image: Thompson

I spoke with Neal Hendrix and the people at Giant and other guys who lived in California. They helped me a great deal. I remember working on getting Willy Santos, the Think team, Jamie Thomas, Salman Agah, Kris Markovich and others during the rise of the street skating period.

During this time, wheels became smaller, pants became bigger and skateboarding changed into something hideous. Looking back on it, skateboarding needed to do what it did in order to evolve. I understand that. Street skating had become the big thing and I watched in disbelief one summer as skateboarders ‘focused’ other skaters boards. (focusing a board is intentionally breaking the board in half). Campers didn’t really care about vert or transition in any way and the industry felt it. There were no contests and few demos. Pro vertical riders were relegated to the dustbin. Campers routinely called the fast forward button on a video the ‘vert button’.

Rene Matthyssen

Chris Livingston
Image: Graham

Christian Hosoi Image: Kanights

Matt Dove Image: Kanights

Mike Speranzo started a long held tradition that vertical skating would always have a place at Woodward Camp. With all the blood in my body, I upheld that tradition after Mike had moved on to work on his music. For those with short memories, for awhile, Woodward was the only paying gig a vert Pro could get. No one knew at the time, but the first X Games were right around the corner in Rhode Island and they drew many of the original vert riders from Woodward Camp. We can thank Gary Ream, Ed Isabelle and Woodward Camp for this. I believe in my heart that this one fact led to some of these guys having a career further into the late 1990’s.

Andy Macdonald

Jimmy O’Brien
Image: Graham

Chuck Wampler

Mike Frazier
Image: Thompson

Woodward’s owners opened the door during the Inline craze which — thankfully — didn’t last too long. It made the camp a great deal of money, but it was hard to watch those kids every week…. I had my brother Dave come up and assist me on the skateboard side, as things were growing by leaps and bounds. We had something like five hundred campers a week. The bike program was big with an epic bike crew like Matt Condor Hoffman, Superstar Joe Rich, Dave Mirra R.I.P., Jay Miron, Taj Mihelich, Kenan Harkin, Sean Dorton, Nate Wessell and a bunch I’m forgetting. I loved the bike guys. They were always solid. Always stoked. As camp grew, I became more of a dick. I’m not a cop and I felt like one. It was hard policing that many campers and staff. I had to make sure the girls and boys didn’t mingle inappropriately, I had to keep everyone safe, I had to enforce the rules… I barely even rode my skateboard in the summer. Ultimately, I didn’t like who I became. I’m sure there are those out there that didn’t like me either. However,  I always tried to make each year bigger, with new stuff for campers and Pros to ride, I tried to give paying jobs to my vert friends and I really hoped people were stoked. I may have done a few things the wrong way, but — from this vantage point — I think the good I did, outweighed the bad. One last thing: for all of you skaters out there enjoying Woodward and to those that have visited a Woodward Camp… remember that it was a bunch of vert ramp skaters that made that place happen. WE built the foundation of what it grew into. Believe it. Peace – Ozzie

Mike Frazier
Image: Thompson

Brian Howard

Tony Hawk
Image: Thompson

Neal Hendrix
Image: Thompson

Thank you to Woodward Camp. Thank you Gary Ream, Ed Isabelle and all of the people I worked alongside. Thank you to all of the riders I helped hire and ride with. Thanks to the campers for coming. Thank you to Pete Thompson, Bryce Kanights and Geoff Graham for images. Lastly, Thank you to Buster Halterman, Nick Rinker and Mike Speranzo. I’m not sure I would’ve ended up where I did if it wasn’t for you guys.

Mike Crum, Me, Brian Howard, Neal Hendrix
Image: Thompson

The Ranch

The Ranch 

California Historic Landmark number 716 sits at Foothill and Vaughn streets in Sylmar. It echoes from the past. A long echo that bounces off the dry nearby hillsides and speaks in low tones. It marks the property of famed movie icon D. W. Griffith and ‘Griffith Ranch’. D. W. Griffith became a San Fernando Valley fixture and is known for his story telling and camera techniques in film making. He bought the property in 1912. Many films were shot on the large ranch including ‘Custers Last Stand’ and the racist and obviously controversial ‘Birth of a Nation’ which is Griffith’s 1915 Civil War film.

Griffith Ranch

Griffith Ranch today- Ranch pool location is small light colored area above parking area lower right side

Fritz Burns bought the D.W. Griffith Ranch in 1948 at Griffith’s retirement and became a fixture in the San Fernando Valley as well. He founded Panorama City and also instituted a Christmas custom by bringing Santa Claus and reindeer at every Christmas to the local stores. He did this for almost thirty years. He kept the reindeer — numbering over one hundred — at the Ranch.

A pool was put in at the Fritz Burns Griffith Ranch property in the nineteen fifties. It gets hot out in the valley and he frequently had many guests. Fritz Burns held huge BBQ parties and swimming was always a part of this. Fritz Burns was a developer and worked with the Kaiser family developing many parts of the residential Los Angeles area. Ultimately, Fritz Burns died in 1979. The property had sat vacant and the reindeer had gone. It had been that way for a few years leading up to Fritz Burns’ death. Skateboarders found it.

Kent Senatore
Griffith Ranch Pool

Brad Bowman Griffith Ranch Pool

Rick Stine and others had talked about the Ranch pool for years. It was described as perfect. When we were working on the book ‘Back in the Day’, several of the skaters told stories about this spit gutter pool. Memories had the pool above Bronson Canyon. Recently, I was speaking with John Swope and he put me in touch with his friend Randy. Randy was skating pools all over the San Fernando Valley in the early to late seventies. He was at the Ranch pool regularly. We discussed its location. He knew about where it was and gave me some coordinates. Forty plus years had gone by. I talked to Rick and we decided that we had to go look for the Ranch pool.

Brad Bowman – Griffith Ranch Pool

Over Rick Stines’s left shoulder, you can see the notch in the hillside over Brad’s right wrist.

On Thursday morning, we drove out and started trying to find the area.We hiked around for awhile and kept looking at the Brad Bowman color shot trying to match up the hillsides in the background. After a bit, we came upon an old bulldozed area. There were bits of plumbing pipe, floor tiles and debris. We looked for about an hour for some tile and coping but realized that Randy was probably right when he told us that he thinks they just pushed the nearby building into the pool and covered it with adjacent dirt from the hillsides.

Brad Bowman Griffith Ranch Pool

Thanks to Randy and Swope for the intel. Thanks to Rick Stine for sharing in the adventure. Thanks to William Sharp for the images and thank you all for reading. Skate – Ozzie

Story Time

The clock woke him. Incessant. Vibrating. He clawed at his phone and with bleary eyes, silenced it. 4:00 am.  “Ugh…” He ran a hand across his face and stretched out under the blankets. One of his feet slipped out and he felt cold. The thought of curling up again and slipping into sleep was inviting but…  he knew that today was going to be different. He lay there in the darkness. One last time. One final dawn. The ceiling seemed so far away in the pale light from the bathroom down the hall. Shadows were his companions. Nothing stirred. He thought of her. She was everything he ever dreamed of. Her eyes he adored…  and her cold snows. She was a Himalayan peak. Granite. She gave nothing. They met and it was as if all of his lifetimes beyond the gulf had led him there. This moment. Collide. They sparked. Their hearts were like two great fires… madness entwined. Perfection for too short a time. His happiness could not be measured. Yet, time slowed… her attentions eventually waned. Then came a day several months later. A long talk. Car. Rain on the windows. Her hands reached across and touched his face. “You just can’t give me all I need. We are much too different.”

He had watched his phone grow silent as she faded away and left him then. His soul ached and all the morphine in the world couldn’t stop his agony.  It was like rolling in broken glass. He wept. A river under his eyes. Who could he speak to of his household Gods? Rage. Vodka. Vicodin. Despair. Sitting up in bed, he let the covers slip off of him. “Cold.” He stood and his joints cracked and popped. He flicked on a light and moved into the kitchen. Coffee. Life. He thumbed the start button on the dryer in the laundry room after throwing in a pair of corduroy trousers and a shirt. “Warm things up a bit…” he murmured. In the bathroom, he saw his reflection. His eyes stared back at him. Stranger. “No answers here.” – the sullen face seemed to say. Showering, he felt the hot water wash away the tiredness and ache he felt. His heart needed a hot shower too, he mused. Getting dressed, he felt his leg hairs stand up from the static on the fabric of his pants. They were warm and he felt better because of it. He glanced at the clock. He needed to get moving.

Today was different. He was going to do something special. Life had knocked him down like a playground bully. Bam! Bam! Bam! He had taken life’s blows and now it was time to strike back. It was his time. He recited the words to Robert Howard’s poem- Song Of The Mad Minstrel.  “I am canker and mildew and blight, danger and death and decay; the rot of the rain by night, the blast of the sun by day.” He mumbled to himself. He’d been doing this more often and periodically questioned his own sanity. Moving to a corner of the room, he slid the table away from the wall. Crouching down, he pried a floorboard loose and reached down inside. His calloused hands lifted a wooden box and rested it on the floor. He sat there briefly. Sigh. “How did it come to this?” he wondered. He removed the heavy metal object and slipped it into his front pocket. With it on him, he felt lethal. Ready for anything.

It had been handed down to him from his grandfather. He would never forget his grandfathers words. He had pulled him aside when he was still a young teenager. His grandfathers long legs stretched up and up. His voice rumbled, a broken sump pump, spewing silt. “A good man knows when it is time knuckle under and come out swinging. You can be hammered by life or you can grab it by the throat and make it give you what you want.” His grandfather looked at him. Their eyes met. His old wrinkled hands reached out and pressed a heavy object into his hands. It was wrapped in a piece of tattered blue velvet cloth. “Take this. When the time is right… you’ll know. Use this. There comes a time when you have to choose between turning the page, or closing the book. This will help.”  He had stashed it away and now felt that the time was right. After all these years… His grandfather was long dead.

He left his apartment then. The sun was burning the horizon to the east. It was blood red. City buildings rose into the morning. Reflections. Chrome and glass. He walked like a new god with huge blue eyes and limbs of ice. The streets of the city had begun to teem with pedestrians. Reflections. Chrome and glass. Workers. Secretaries. Lawyers. Firemen. On the filthy sidewalk, pigeons struggled over a french fry and he laughed as he strode by. He saw the sign dead ahead. Third Avenue Coffee and Tea. Tables cluttered the sidewalk. People moved in and out of the shops nearby. There was a line at the counter. He smelled the coffee beans roasting. Espresso. Amaretto. He touched his pants pocket and was comforted by the metal object inside. Assurance. His grandfathers words hung like a promise… “A good man knows when it is time knuckle under and come out swinging…” He noticed two uniformed policemen waiting for their coffee and felt a wave of nervousness. He moved further away from them and approached the counter. Time crawled. Everything was changing color. His pulse hummed and he felt the blood thrumming in his veins. Sweaty hands. He reached into his pocket. Cold metal. Heft. The manager approached him from behind the counter. Her mouth moved but he didn’t hear what she said. Words were stones in his mouth. Boulders. He glanced around. It was surreal. He thought everyone was staring at him. Her mouth moved again.”Can I help you…?” Questioning. He lifted the metal object for her to see and glanced down briefly. His grandfathers sterling silver pocket watch was open for them to see. He pointed. “Hi. I’m Adam. I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start at eight.”

Young

Age is a number. I mean, that’s what everyone will always say. I think I’m about fifteen years old most of the time. Then, I wake up crushed in the morning after a heavy session. I get my mortgage bill in the mail.  I have to deal with seriously ill people in my job as an RN or other such adult soul-draining activities… but otherwise, age is certainly just a number. As skateboarders, we get the joy of riding with friends — some of which — we’ve had for many years. As big as skateboarding seems, it really isn’t. It is broken up into very small groups because we all have people we generally ride with. People that stoke us out. People that inspire us. Friends we can talk to.

There are many times when we all show up to a session and end up sitting around talking. We discuss tricks, contests, recent mind-bending video clips that have been posted and who did what better and the when, how and why of life. These are the things I remember most at times. It isn’t the tricks and lines that go down at each session. It is the people themselves that stay with me…

I’ve been trying to get Tony and Riley Hawk to come ride Animal Farm for quite awhile. Tony is a busy guy and we just couldn’t get the two ends neatly tied. Recently, we managed to get a Saturday set aside and everything fell into place. I invited Eddie El Gato Elguera as well. Tony Hawk looked up to Eddie when he was a young skater and I wanted them to cruise in a session together. I was super amped to learn that they had never ridden a backyard pool together. It is a source of pride for me that I was the one arranging it. My gift.

William Sharp and I are releasing the mini version of the ‘Back in the Day’ book in the upcoming weeks so I asked him to come shoot photos of the session. Chris Gregson rounded out the crew and I didn’t sleep much last night. I suffer from ‘terminal stoke’ and it probably gets on others nerves but… that’s who I am. Like I said, I’m young. I’m fifteen most of the time. When you were fifteen, didn’t you lose sleep the  night before a heavy session?

Eddie came early and helped me sweep up the pool. Clouds were everywhere The sun was hidden away. Eddie talked about his first Hobie board and how he got it.  There was an ice cream coupon from Double Buddies that you got when you bought a certain amount. Then you’d send the coupons and get a discount on a Hobie board. This is how he got his first Hobie.

Double Buddies

He brought it along and wanted to recreate the Skateboarder Magazine cover with Greg Weaver  riding a pool. As we swept, he said, “When I was young, once I saw Greg Weaver on the cover of Skateboarder Magazine, carving in an empty swimming pool, that was the day I knew skateboarding was going to be a part of my life forever.” I understood completely. He carved around a bit, the sun popped out and William readied his camera.

Eddie Elguera

It wasn’t long before we heard the arrival of other friends as Tony Hawk, Riley Hawk and Chris Gregson showed up and the session became quite heated. Animal Farm is the type of pool that really allows you to get in and get on the gas pedal. It has great side to side flow and you can certainly keep your speed. Chris Gregson pushed in and stood a long one up over death/light. The rest quickly followed suit. Riley hovered backside airs and shallow end grinds and Tony put down ollies, deathbox grinds, rock-n-rolls and frontside tailslides.  Eddie Elguera threw up rock-n-rolls and frontside grinds in the side cup.

Chris Gregson

Riley Hawk

Tony Hawk

Eddie Elguera

Me

Eddie Elguera pulled out one of his many original tricks in the pool yesterday. As soon as he poked a frontside rock-n-roll over the deck — his body twisted up — everyone was so stoked. It was something we wanted to see and he didn’t make us wait. A few runs in and it was checked off. A frontside rock in a backyard pool is no small thing. Eddie is in his late fifties. Who would’ve ever thought that anyone could still be doing such a thing? Tony remarked that when he was young, he was looking at photographs in the magazine of Eddie doing frontside rock-n-rolls and it was remarkable that forty years later he was sitting here watching him do it in person. I looked around at everyone having fun. Chris and Riley are quite young and they flowed through the pool with an ease and style we all admire. Even though the rest of us are older, as I watched everyone skate, I realized that age is definitely a number only. I’d like to think that if you’re having fun, you’ll always stay young.  Thanks for coming out. Thanks to William Sharp for the images. Skate- Ozzie

Eddie Elguera frontside rock-n-roll

Eddie and I looking over Back in the Day Mini version

History/ Logan Earth Ski

The Logan’s started their skateboarding careers in 1959 at a very young age. Brian was the oldest, followed by Bruce. Brad and Robin did not start until 1963. We were living on 5th street in Hermosa Beach right on the Strand. We would take steel wheel skates and take them apart, nailing them to a 2×4 with a milk box on top with handles. As we improved we took off the box and the handles and rode on the 2×4 and the steel wheels. Things progressed slowly.

Bruce Logan

Skateboarding started growing.There were many competitions and demonstrations to follow. Some of the parents and our Mother (aka Mother Earth Ski) would share in driving us to these contests. Then sometime in 1964 we finally got a sponsor. We lived about three blocks from the Bing Surfboard shop on Pacific Coast Highway. Many days after school we would go there and just hang out just talking to the guy who ran Bing’s retail store. His name was Brian McGuiness. Brian was a big brother type that I never had. He took an interest in us. He noticed how good Bruce and I were on skateboards. As skateboarding was getting much more recognition and many surfboard manufacturers started putting together their own skateboard teams, he talked to Bing Copeland and they decided to be our team sponsor. We then changed the team name to the Bing Skateboard Team.

We would compete against other teams in team competition and individual competition and from what I remember, we never lost one team competition except when we were on the first Surfing Show on television called Surf’s Up with Stan Richards. This was the first time skateboarding was on television. It was a live performance.  Bing and Brian got the team on the show. There were about eight or so other teams competing.  In the end, it was Bing, Kips and Hobie.  The Bing team ended up getting 2nd place behind Kip’s team.

Robin Logan

In 1965 came the biggest contest of all. The Anaheim National Skateboard Championships.  ABC Wide World Of Sports was there to film this event for television. Many kids from around the country came and competed. During my freestyle I just fell apart in my routine, I was very nervous but not Bruce. He was one of the last ones to skate his routine. I remember the announcer from ABC say, “… and next up is Bruce Logan from Hermosa Beach. Look at him. He is such a little guy!”  I am not kidding.  Bruce was fourteen at the time, but looked about eight years old. . He was not perfect in his routine but it got him a 2nd place behind a kid named Torger Johnson. Torger was so hot with his space walk and the crowd just went crazy over it. Torger got 1st place.

Torger Johnson

Jay Adams

The Logan brand became home for the hottest skateboarders ever. The most influential and progressive riders flocked to its roster. Torger, Jay Adams, Tony Alva and others were soon riding the Logan Earth Ski brand. It was a new age. The future.

The world changed as skateboarding moved into a new dimension. Vert, pools and pipes were sought out and conquered. Contests were breeding grounds for new tricks.  Progression was quick and mind blowing. Logan Earth Ski changed with the times as best we could. Ultimately, we took a long look at where it was going and all of the new companies in the industry and pulled back our production. It had been a good ride. We are grateful to those that rode our products and are proud of the place we have in skating as skateboardings first family.

Brian Logan

Images: Bolster Archive

Tony Roberts / Guest Post

Steve Alba

Tony Roberts

“Shooting and skating with Salba was always an adventure. When we filmed his Speed Freaks part, we went up in a plane and flew around looking for empty pools. Salba has a Thomas Guide and would mark down all the locations. The we would drive around and find them. He was always equipped with pumps, brooms, and a crew of hard working pool skaters to clean them up. Then we would figure out our escape plans for the inevitable whistle from whoever was keeping watch that the cops showed. Then it was on to the next spot. He had a notebook, full of empty pools we could barge. His ritual was first run go straight up and frontside grind the face wall, accompanied by a primal scream. Then he would work out his lines. It was always more about the lines than the tricks, but Salba would always keep progressing and throwing new tricks in the mix. Not many people know he was the winner of the first Hester Series event at Spring Valley in 1978. That was the most important moment in that era of skateboarding by far. The raddest part of Salba’s story is that he is still ripping hard to this very day!”

Thanks to Tony Roberts for the words and photographs. For epic skate and surfing stories take a look at Real Surf Stories on YouTube.

Also – www.tonyrobertsphoto.com

Heart of a Giant / Jeff Grosso

Skateboarding, at its most fundamental level, has always embodied three distinct factors in my view … accomplishment, empowerment and friendship. The longer I last, the more I believe this truism to be correct as well as universal for all skaters. These interacting factors are what’s made skating and the people involved in it the powerful, legitimate culture that they are. The sport constantly changes and evolves with this dynamic with each of us adding our own little pieces to the whole …. and then there’s the giants. I first met Jeff Grosso around 2001 so I didn’t know him nearly as well as many. What I did realize immediately upon meeting him though was that he was a huge fan of skating and a 110% charger. I instantly related to him. We’d never skated together back in the day but I’d speak with Jeff every opportunity we had and we’d cross reference our experiences. His focus on the individuals around him and his heavy respect and appreciation for those that came before was always apparent. Getting to know Jeff only solidified my fundamental views of skateboarding and the people involved. On the occasions he and I skated together it was always a huge deal for me and he would make it apparent it was for him as well.  Mutual respect is core to skating and we both lived that. Jeff had not led a perfect life but then all of us have seen our lives go into shadow at times. He fought back from self-inflicted wounds and remained to be an example for us all to the end. He may have been more talented than most of us but at his core he was also very much like all of us. That’s why we love Grosso so much. The impetus for these words on my friend came from a photograph by MRZ that  I’ve kept for years.

I often look back on the shot for long minutes, remembering the moment and smiling. It’s from the Vans Pool Party in 2013 and the crowd is showing Jeff their appreciation for what he had just done while the ruler raises his scepter in accomplishment. I’m standing on tippy toes for some reason smiling maniacally and smacking Jeff on the back. Sergei Ventura is behind me showing his approval and Eric Nash is to the left, nursing a wing but not missing the stoke. It was a finals run —  I believe —  and the crowd had been going nuts for Grosso before his turn and he returned the energy during his run. Jeff put the pedal down and brought the receipts, by the end of the run we were all feeling like victors. It still gives me chills. I now realized why this shot held so much pull for me. We all were doing a healthy form of projection. We screamed for him because he was us. We felt on a certain level that Jeff Grosso’s accomplishments that day were all of ours and so empowered us all. In my opinion it succinctly represents the three fundamentals of skating. We were all sharing the communal spirit of skateboarding with Jeff and I’m sure he was fine with that. We are all friends and we will miss Jeff. RIP my friend. Peace
Scott Foss

Thank you to Scott Foss for the words and thoughts. Thank you to MRZ for the images. Rest in Peace Jeff. X Ozzie