Beach
Boys
Historic Landmark
#1041
Dedication Day
Memories
May 20, 2005
Marks, and all of The Beach Boys' extended family and friends.
I’ve always loved The Beach Boys. I am the founder of one of the largest Beach Boys groups on the web and I’ve been
to plenty of concerts. But I was sure that watching the band from a distance as an audience member would be as
close as I ever got to the actual Beach Boys. I was wrong.
In the Fall of 2004, I ran across Harry Jarnagan’s efforts to have the childhood home of Brian, Dennis, and Carl Wilson
declared a state historic site. I sort of followed his odyssey over the next few months. He fought to have the idea
approved by the City of Hawthorne and the State of California. To my surprise, this energetic man did exactly that.
But the Wilson home had been demolished in the early 80’s to make way for the Century Freeway. A marker of some
kind at this historic site was needed.
A design contest was announced and entries began arriving, literally, from around the world. I followed the contest as
each new entry was posted on the web site. I had no intention of entering the contest myself. One day during the
halftime of a football game I had an inspiration. I pasted together an entry and mailed it in. As I expected, nothing
happened.
My cell phone rang in mid-December. It was my wife Diana sounding very excited. “Do you know a Harry Jarnagan?”
she gushed. "He just called here. They liked your design. They’re going to use it!” I didn't know until later that my
design had been chosen by the Wilson family itself, to honor the group. If I had known, I would have been as excited as
my wife was. I was told that I was only a co-designer. My idea was being combined with one submitted by a graphic
artist from Folsom, California. But it was still the thrill of my life. I received a congratulatory letter in the mail, but that
wasn't all. I also got a binding legal agreement to sign, granting eternal intellectual property rights to the City of
Hawthorne. Not until I signed it, had it notarized, and mailed it back did the announcement come on the Beach Boys
California State Historic Site web site that my design was chosen.
The dedication ceremony was set for May 20, 2005, and construction began. I was nervous when I received an
invitation for my wife and I to attend the VIP reception after the dedication ceremony. How does one dress for such an
occasion? I had visions of limos and velvet ropes. When I e-mailed Paula Bondi-Springer, the very capable liaison to
the Wilson family, she said, “I don’t even know how I’m dressing yet.” But I sensed that a flowered shirt was going to
be more appropriate than a tux.
As fate had it, I was called in for jury duty on the day before the ceremony. I had the task of telling a superior court
judge that I couldn't serve on his jury because a state monument I had designed was being dedicated that day. “Well,
that’s original.” The old codger sputtered. “What landmark is this?” “It’s for The Beach Boys,” I said. After the laughter
of all the prospective jurors died down, I was excused.
On the morning of the 20th, my family and I drove to Hawthorne. The site was exactly where the house at 3701 W.
119th street had been. We exited the freeway and followed the map. I looked around curiously. Hawthorne is
probably a great city but it’s not exactly a resort area. The VIP invitation that I had been guarding with my life for
months got us into the parking lot of the Hawthorne Memorial Center. My entry caused a line of cars to try to follow me
in, but security kept them out. This was a new world to me. I walked to the Memorial Center. I didn't see any people,
just a long row of gleaming woodies and two limousines.
I started to take a few pictures of the woodies when I saw David Marks walk out of the auditorium. I’m normally a pretty
quiet guy. My wife, however, is not. “Mr. Marks, can we have your autograph?” He instantly stopped, turned around
and said, “I’ll be glad to.” He was a tall, gaunt, handsome man with a gray goatee, wearing a light blue, long sleeved
shirt. He could not have been more gracious. I had read about his victory over hepatitis and admired him very much.
We walked into the auditorium and discovered workers busily setting up tables, chairs, food stations, and decorations,
all done in a tropical –surfer motif. Hundreds of cars began lining up and down the many neighborhood streets. We
waited outside on a bench until it was time to leave for the ceremony. I sat next to a lady in a big, brilliant, sunflower
hat. We began chatting and I was delighted to discover that she was Margaret O’Dowd, a long time super fan who
was involved with The Beach Boys Fan Club. I had seen her name many times and it was a joy to meet her. We
chatted about music, Jon Stebbins, Karen Lamm, Ed Roach, and a lot of other Beach Boys related topics. She knew
it all. I think she said that she lived in Georgia but she sounded and looked like a California girl to me.
My wife and I were told to go inside to have the VIP access bracelet attached to our wrist. They were red with a white
tropical pattern. I was beginning to feel special. When it was time to go to the ceremony on W. 119th Street, I got the
choice of a limo or a Woodie. I chose a bright blue Woodie. We hopped in and were driven the long three blocks to
the monument.
The driver told us he was part of a southern California Woodie club that had been asked to chauffeur the VIPs. The
interior revealed a beautifully restored and detailed classic car complete with a plastic hula dancer on the dash and
custom palm tree pattern upholstery. My dad recognized it instantly as a ’51.
It was rapidly becoming an uncomfortably hot day with fluffy clouds and a bright blue sky. We were driven past the
white, wooden police barricades and were deposited on 119th street.
It was obvious that the street had been swept clean. Hawthorne was proud of its favorite sons and it showed. The
monument itself was well covered with a huge, white drop cloth. Not an inch was visible.
Being an early arrival, I was greeted with about fifteen rows of white folding chairs set up in arcs facing a scaffolded,
black stage.
Some rows (the best) were cordoned off. I was thrilled to see signs reading: "Brian Wilson – reserved" only steps
away from me. “Jardine” read another sign pulled across several seats. I found the “David Marks” section (front row
left ) and sat down next to my wife, son, and parents. Everything was completely quiet and still. The bewildered
neighbors who lived across from the monument looked out from upstairs windows, eating snacks and watching all the
police cars, limos, VIPs and tourists pouring in. I saw Al Jardine first.
He seemed to be in a good mood and seemed to be greeting many familiar faces. Tan and blond with a friendly face,
his appearance set off the first fan frenzy behind the police barricades. He wore a bright green and blue Hawaiian open
, over a t-shirt. He disappeared for a while as Justyn Wilson, Carl B. Wilson, and Mario Tucker took the stage. I was
looking forward to hearing their band In Bloom in person. They did a quick sound check and left. My cell phone rang.
It was a reporter who told me to meet him under the media tent about a hundred yards from the monument. My home
town paper wanted to ask me a few questions. The reporter asked me about my design and took a photo. When I got
back my wife met me with an official program, (along with an official hat, and an official shirt).
It was really getting hot now. The crowd was large and getting larger. I felt sorry for the tourists, some from Australia,
New Zealand, and Great Britain standing in the heat. They remained so enthusiastic, holding up signs and shouting
greetings to the celebrities.
When everyone began to sit down, I found myself sitting next to Jon Stebbins and David Marks. I said, “Hey Jon, I liked
your book!” With his mop of hair and a toothy grin, he looked like Tom Petty on steroids. His former project: Dennis
Wilson The Real Beach Boy was a great read and I knew that he was then working with David Marks on a book to be
called “The Lost Beach Boy.” I’m looking forward to reading it.
After the crowd was seated, Brian Wilson arrived with his wife Melinda and two youngest daughters. I had only seen
him at concerts from a considerable distance. On this day, up close, he looked weary and gray. He was wearing a
faded green plaid shirt and light colored pants. He was not seated for five seconds before a fan rushed up to him and
demanded a photo. Brian obliged. I couldn't tell if he was happy about it. Like a reflex he stood up shook the man’s
hand and smiled woodenly at the camera in his face. Paula did her job. She barreled toward the intruder yelling that
he had no right to do that in the VIP area. No pictures. No autographs. Nothing. I was glad that Brian was being
protected.
A young man arrived with his pretty blond girlfriend. I thought that it had to be Gage Wilson. I said to my wife,
“That’s Gage!” My wife (a little brazenly) stood up and pointed her camera right at him. Gage froze, then struck an
exaggerated, forced smiled. The Wilson family broke up and my wife snapped the photo.
Dennis’s grandson Matthew was easy to spot. He had a cool picture of Dennis in a cape on the front of his t-shirt.
Plus he definitely had that “Dennis” energy about him.
The ceremony began with the Hawthorne High School choir. They seemed bored and it wasn't the best singing in the
world either. I looked over at Brian. His young daughter said she was tired. Brian said, “That’s OK, lie down.” She
put her head down and rested. Fred Vail, The Beach Boys first promoter got up and spoke of the significance of the
day. Then Stephen Kalinich read a poem that seemed to be written for the occasion.
David Marks sang "You and I," from the Pacific Ocean Blue album. I heard later that it the first time ever that this song
was performed publicly. Then Al’s turn came. He plugged his new children’s book Sloop John B: A Pirate's Tale. An
audio clip of the book was played over the PA system and Al sang along. He mentioned that he was going to appear
on a new reality show called "Rock Stars and Muscle Cars" and was off.
Brian got up and did a beautiful version of “Surfer Girl” backed up by Jeffrey Foskett and the guys. Then the moment
came. Brian, David, and Alan got up and held opposite ends of the cloth over the monument. They sort of looked
around for a second, then someone yelled, “One! Two! Three!”
There it was. Amidst a flurry of flashbulbs, applause, and excited gasps, the monument appeared.
It was a beautiful brick structure embossed with gold records engraved with the names of Brian Wilson, Dennis
Wilson, Carl Wilson, Mike Love, Al Jardine, and David Marks. The upper platform had a beautiful carving of The
Beach Boys taken from the Surfer Girl album cover. It must have been a thrill for Scott Wilson and his company SMW
Construction to build.
As we all took pictures, I was introduced to my co-designer Carol Ruth Barnes and her family. The searing heat
pressed down on us. The crowd and the media became more intense. Newscasters were broadcasting from the
scene. Many people were yelling and waving signs. One Hawthorne native kept parading around holding up a signed
Hawthorne High yearbook for the media to see. A man with a thick Australian accent shouted something to me. He
must have thought that I was something more than just a fan. I could not understand a single word that he was saying
so I didn’t answer.
Harry Jarnagan got up and expressed his hope that more historic sites would be identified and preserved. As the
ceremony concluded the Wilson family posed for pictures in front of the monument.
Then I saw my co-designer, Carol Barnes, getting her picture taken with Al Jardine. When she hugged him good-bye, I
couldn't resist rushing over and asking, "Mr. Jardine, could I get a picture too? I helped design the monument." He
looked at me and said, "OK, man, but I'm not going to hug you." My wife took the picture. "Thank you Mr. Jardine!" I
said. "Yeah, man!" he replied and turned away.
We made our way back to the Woodie pick up area just past the media tent. Justyn, Carl, and Gage Wilson were
standing together being very patient with the fans. Gage snuck a few drags on a cigarette.
But now it was crunch time. It was time to leave for the reception. This was a case of too many VIPs and too few
woodies. Brian stood under the white tarp media tent. The police ordered the crowd to stay back away from Brian. I
felt sorry for him. He was wilted from the heat and didn’t need to be bothered. "We love you, Brian," I called out.
"Thank you," he said in a flat, thin voice. Just then a Hawthorne City Police car drove up and whisked Brian and his
family away. I reveled in the sight. Like every other thing on this day, I never thought I’d see Brian Wilson looking out
curiously from the back of a police car
The crowd began to disperse but there was friction. One lady told a police officer that some Wilson family members
had not been chauffeured to the reception yet. He threw up his arms in exasperation. Just then a shiny aqua colored
Woodie happened to pull up right along side me and my family. My family along with two others piled in and we were
off to the reception. The driver on the return trip told us that some of the other drivers went home. He heard a rumor
that they had expected to at least be fed and when that didn’t happen, they left.
The civic center was tropical and festive. The stage was adorned with a huge arc of balloons, thatched hut food
stations led to hot dogs, hamburgers, watermelon, pineapple, melon, and macaroni salad. Ice tubs on the floor held
cans of beverages. On stage, The Beach Toys were doing a gorgeous a capella performance of some of The Beach
Boys’ early material. I especially liked hearing “Farmer’s Daughter.” One of the singers explained that their normal
audience would never have appreciated that song.
For a die-hard Beach Boys like myself just glancing around the room was a thrill. I saw The Sun Rays’ Eddy Medora,
Billy Hinsche, Carole Wilson, Barbara Wilson, Jennifer Wilson and many others. I found myself standing behind
Marilyn Wilson Rutherford in the food line. I suppose that I could have taken lots of photos or run around asking for
autographs but I was honored just to be there and didn’t want to spoil it by being just a "tourist". I did get one shot of
the cake.
Each table was round and covered with a white table cloth. There was a pair of sunglasses for each table setting with
"The Beach Boys" printed on the ear piece.
Brian came in quietly from a side door. He stayed for perhaps twenty minutes and then left. The Beach Toys finished
their set. Adam Marsland's Chaos Band came on next. They did a set of later material like Forever and Long
Promised Road. Margaret O’Dowd was dancing near the stage, really digging the music. When Got to Know the
Woman started, I couldn't’t help dancing my way back to my seat. When I sat down a woman came up to me with a
big smile on her face and asked if I “was anybody?” I assured her that that I was no one special; just a fan.
The day began winding down and people began leaving. My wife and I filed out to the Memorial Center parking lot.
We were just behind Carl B, who was walking toward his truck. When I got in my car I knew that that this experience
was over and I was heading back to real life.
Thank you Wilson family for choosing my design. Thank you for the memories of that day. And most of all, thank you
Brian, for the music.
-- Timothy Lefler
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