Mustang Judy
With the prom behind us, we still had about five weeks left before we graduated. There would still be a few senior activities for us to participate in. Going forward, we would still have the senior class picnic, senior skip day, and a work-study picnic. Graduation was set for June 25, 1969, at Cole Field House at the University of Maryland.
At that point in the school year, we were all getting antsy. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we were all ready to be cut loose from the daily routine of being educated and ready for "freedom."
Judy and I continued to cruise around, continued to see the prom dates on occasion, and go to SomePlace Else. There was always an impressive number of representatives from the Marine Corps that we knew and hung out with. I think we made up the largest contingent of the establishment's supporters. On one occasion, Steve showed up with his girlfriend from West Virginia, who had moved in with him and the guys. There were no hard feelings; she was friendly and fun to be around. Judy had another friend that went to Oxon Hill High School and was a little older than us. She knew some of the same guys that we knew and had dated some of them, and sometimes we would run into her. She also knew some that we were to meet later on that would become important.
Our next event was our senior class picnic at Fort Washington. Judy came and picked me up in her mom's Mustang. It was May, and it was sweltering and humid that day, so the top was down on the car. I really don't remember taking any food or drinks with us, so maybe they were supplied, or maybe we were just dumb. We left my place and drove back through Glassmanor down to 7-11. We did get a drink for traveling, but it would never last through the heat of the day. We took off down Indian Head Highway towards the fort. Even with the top down, the heat was intense; we were beaten up by the hot wind blowing on us. Judy and I both had freckles that neither of us was crazy about, and when we got out in the sun and the heat, they would explode all over our faces and arms. We would do a mirror check in the rearview mirror to see how bad the damage was. Then we would look at each other and say, "holy crap, look at the freckles!" That's just the way it was. By the time we got to Fort Washington, we were already turning red from the sun and wind. And we were out of anything to drink.
As we drove through the fort looking for our classmates, we spotted Steve and Neal and some other guys playing football. They waved us over and asked us what we were doing there. We told them we were there for the picnic. They asked if they could go, and we said sure. But now, none of us had anything to drink, and they wanted some beer. We said we would go back to DC to buy some, but they had to buy ours too. We had a plan. We turned around and left with the guys. Steve was riding shotgun, and Neal was in the back with me. On the way out, we passed and acknowledged some of our friends going to the picnic. They wanted to know why we were leaving, so we told them we were just going after beer and would be back in a while.
Instead of taking the same route back, somebody had the bright idea to cut down the old road because it was shorter and had less traffic. When we came to the road, we had to stop for cross-traffic before we turned left. After a long line of cars passed, we started our turn. Judy gave the car too much gas, and we started fishtailing. Instead of letting off the gas, she gave it more gas. We spun almost sideways, and the rear bumper on my side caught on to the end of the guard rail. Instead of hitting the brake, Judy panicked and stomped on the gas. The car leaped into the race mode, and Judy, stunned and shocked lost control of the steering, now we were flung all the way across the road and headed for the big windows and brick exterior of a closed liquor store. That's all I could see coming at us. We were all screaming at Judy to hit the brakes, but she was stunned and didn't respond; she didn't even try to steer away from the building. Now there was panic in the car. All three of us were trying to get to the brake and steering wheel to stop the car. Steve grabbed the wheel and turned it in the opposite direction; Judy was still in the seat but oblivious to us. Neal and I were trying to get to the brake. We missed the building, but a huge light with a concrete foundation had stopped us. I remember watching the light post shake violently, and I thought it would fall on top of us. Instead of it falling all the way down, it stopped, and the glass from it shattered and flew all over us as soon as the car stopped. The guys were immediately okay. They were trying to make sure that we were not hurt. Except for glass all over me and thrown back into my seat from the impact, I was okay. I really think that Judy probably had a concussion as I look back on it. She was kind of out of it, disoriented for a while. Plus, she had taken the impact of the dash and steering wheel with her body when we hit the concrete. I knew the side of the car was going to be bad; I had heard the gravel flying and the sound of metal ripping.
I don't remember who called the cops. I don't know if somebody who passed by or maybe a witness that hadn't stopped; it could have been one of the guys, I don't know. When Judy stepped out of the car, she was confronted with that "oh shit" moment. The bumper was ripped halfway off; the car's right side from the bumper's edge to the door handle looked like a can opener had peeled it open. The front was dented, and all of the lights were broken out. I don't know what kind of cop showed up; it could have been a Trooper, a county cop, or a local cop. I have no memory of it. I remember standing in the heat, watching as some of our classmates passed by us and honked and waved. None of them stopped to see if we were okay, and none of them stopped to ask if we needed a ride.
It took a long time for the cop to complete his report. There were no witnesses, at least none that stuck around. He interviewed all four of us, he measured distances and looked for tire marks, he took pictures. He said that Judy might have to pay for the guardrail's damage; yes, it was torn up too. Fortunately, there was no beer or alcohol in the car. We were so lucky that day in so many ways. The three of us jumping around trying to get the car stopped could have been tossed out of the car when we hit the concrete abutment.
Before the cop called a wrecker, he had one of the guys test the car to see if it would start. It started right up, and he backed it off of the concrete. They had to pull the bumper and part of the side out to keep it from tearing up the tire, or we may have had a flat, and they changed it. I don't remember. Parts of the event are not clear to me; maybe I whacked my head. Now it was time to leave. I don't know if the guys went with us or not, I can't remember. Also, I am not sure who drove us to Judy's; I don't remember if I drove or if Judy drove; maybe I did because she was not feeling well.
The only part I remember is driving up the hill and seeing her mom on the balcony. She couldn't see the side of the car until we started around the curve. Then I saw her go inside. When we pulled into the parking lot, she was there. She started yelling about her car, she forgot to ask how Judy was. Poor Judy was crying; I felt so sorry for her. I don't even know how I got home. Judy would have problems from that wreck off and on for at least the next couple of years. She probably should have been taken to the ER after the wreck.
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| Mustang Judy |
Judy and I continued to cruise around, continued to see the prom dates on occasion, and go to SomePlace Else. There was always an impressive number of representatives from the Marine Corps that we knew and hung out with. I think we made up the largest contingent of the establishment's supporters. On one occasion, Steve showed up with his girlfriend from West Virginia, who had moved in with him and the guys. There were no hard feelings; she was friendly and fun to be around. Judy had another friend that went to Oxon Hill High School and was a little older than us. She knew some of the same guys that we knew and had dated some of them, and sometimes we would run into her. She also knew some that we were to meet later on that would become important.
Our next event was our senior class picnic at Fort Washington. Judy came and picked me up in her mom's Mustang. It was May, and it was sweltering and humid that day, so the top was down on the car. I really don't remember taking any food or drinks with us, so maybe they were supplied, or maybe we were just dumb. We left my place and drove back through Glassmanor down to 7-11. We did get a drink for traveling, but it would never last through the heat of the day. We took off down Indian Head Highway towards the fort. Even with the top down, the heat was intense; we were beaten up by the hot wind blowing on us. Judy and I both had freckles that neither of us was crazy about, and when we got out in the sun and the heat, they would explode all over our faces and arms. We would do a mirror check in the rearview mirror to see how bad the damage was. Then we would look at each other and say, "holy crap, look at the freckles!" That's just the way it was. By the time we got to Fort Washington, we were already turning red from the sun and wind. And we were out of anything to drink.
As we drove through the fort looking for our classmates, we spotted Steve and Neal and some other guys playing football. They waved us over and asked us what we were doing there. We told them we were there for the picnic. They asked if they could go, and we said sure. But now, none of us had anything to drink, and they wanted some beer. We said we would go back to DC to buy some, but they had to buy ours too. We had a plan. We turned around and left with the guys. Steve was riding shotgun, and Neal was in the back with me. On the way out, we passed and acknowledged some of our friends going to the picnic. They wanted to know why we were leaving, so we told them we were just going after beer and would be back in a while.
Instead of taking the same route back, somebody had the bright idea to cut down the old road because it was shorter and had less traffic. When we came to the road, we had to stop for cross-traffic before we turned left. After a long line of cars passed, we started our turn. Judy gave the car too much gas, and we started fishtailing. Instead of letting off the gas, she gave it more gas. We spun almost sideways, and the rear bumper on my side caught on to the end of the guard rail. Instead of hitting the brake, Judy panicked and stomped on the gas. The car leaped into the race mode, and Judy, stunned and shocked lost control of the steering, now we were flung all the way across the road and headed for the big windows and brick exterior of a closed liquor store. That's all I could see coming at us. We were all screaming at Judy to hit the brakes, but she was stunned and didn't respond; she didn't even try to steer away from the building. Now there was panic in the car. All three of us were trying to get to the brake and steering wheel to stop the car. Steve grabbed the wheel and turned it in the opposite direction; Judy was still in the seat but oblivious to us. Neal and I were trying to get to the brake. We missed the building, but a huge light with a concrete foundation had stopped us. I remember watching the light post shake violently, and I thought it would fall on top of us. Instead of it falling all the way down, it stopped, and the glass from it shattered and flew all over us as soon as the car stopped. The guys were immediately okay. They were trying to make sure that we were not hurt. Except for glass all over me and thrown back into my seat from the impact, I was okay. I really think that Judy probably had a concussion as I look back on it. She was kind of out of it, disoriented for a while. Plus, she had taken the impact of the dash and steering wheel with her body when we hit the concrete. I knew the side of the car was going to be bad; I had heard the gravel flying and the sound of metal ripping.
I don't remember who called the cops. I don't know if somebody who passed by or maybe a witness that hadn't stopped; it could have been one of the guys, I don't know. When Judy stepped out of the car, she was confronted with that "oh shit" moment. The bumper was ripped halfway off; the car's right side from the bumper's edge to the door handle looked like a can opener had peeled it open. The front was dented, and all of the lights were broken out. I don't know what kind of cop showed up; it could have been a Trooper, a county cop, or a local cop. I have no memory of it. I remember standing in the heat, watching as some of our classmates passed by us and honked and waved. None of them stopped to see if we were okay, and none of them stopped to ask if we needed a ride.
It took a long time for the cop to complete his report. There were no witnesses, at least none that stuck around. He interviewed all four of us, he measured distances and looked for tire marks, he took pictures. He said that Judy might have to pay for the guardrail's damage; yes, it was torn up too. Fortunately, there was no beer or alcohol in the car. We were so lucky that day in so many ways. The three of us jumping around trying to get the car stopped could have been tossed out of the car when we hit the concrete abutment.
Before the cop called a wrecker, he had one of the guys test the car to see if it would start. It started right up, and he backed it off of the concrete. They had to pull the bumper and part of the side out to keep it from tearing up the tire, or we may have had a flat, and they changed it. I don't remember. Parts of the event are not clear to me; maybe I whacked my head. Now it was time to leave. I don't know if the guys went with us or not, I can't remember. Also, I am not sure who drove us to Judy's; I don't remember if I drove or if Judy drove; maybe I did because she was not feeling well.
The only part I remember is driving up the hill and seeing her mom on the balcony. She couldn't see the side of the car until we started around the curve. Then I saw her go inside. When we pulled into the parking lot, she was there. She started yelling about her car, she forgot to ask how Judy was. Poor Judy was crying; I felt so sorry for her. I don't even know how I got home. Judy would have problems from that wreck off and on for at least the next couple of years. She probably should have been taken to the ER after the wreck.
Well, so much for the senior picnic. Scratch that one off the list. We had already participated in Senior Skip Day several times over. Now there were only two big events left for the year. And the next one was another picnic. Hopefully, it would be better than our last picnic.
This time, we took food to the picnic. We had all been assigned something to bring. This was the get together for all of the Work-Study classes that year. This event would have the teacher and vice-principal as chaperones. Judy and her new friend, whom I will refer to as MD, came to pick me up. I had a sort of blind date, one of his friends. It wasn't really a date; he was just a tagalong while I was actually invited. I had never seen him or talked to him before. Judy met MD from her friend who went to Oxon Hill High School, and I think this was their first outing, although they knew each other already. The guy they brought was named Mike, and he was a Marine, as was MD.
So now it was June. Judy and I had cooled our jets after the wreck. She no longer had wheels, and mine weren't always working, so we toned it down a little. It was really hot and humid, and MD had a little VW, great on gas, but very hot in the summer. After they picked me up, we stopped to get soft drinks at 7-11. Since this was a school-sponsored party, there would be no drinking. The picnic was going to be at Fort Washington, of course.
As we drove to the picnic, everyone was talking. I really didn't know MD or Mike. We were at that getting acquainted part, asking questions, small talk, and jokes. MD was over 21, Mike was 20, Judy and I were 17. It was a very tame picnic except that Mike and Judy had started a food fight, mostly with potato salad and just between them. They both had food all over them, even in their ears. I think the vice-principal, Mr. Flood, who was a sweetheart of a man, was actually a little grossed out by it. It was a decent day; the kids in all of the Work-Study classes were all crazy, in a good way, and a lot of laughs. We were actually home at a decent hour. The two guys had asked us to go to The Evening Parade the next Friday, to watch the parade, and then go to the club at the Navy Yard afterward. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?
For a young single girl to attend the parade, it only made sense to look her best. So we always wore dresses or skirts, never jeans or slacks. We always looked our best. We watched the parade, and then when it was over, MD and Mike met us and we walked back to the barracks. We waited for them in the club while they showered and changed. While waiting for them, a couple of the other guys we knew talked to us and brought us drinks. When they came down to the club, Mike asked me how I knew Neal, and I told him. He was not very happy about it, not that he had a right to like it one way or another. It should have been a warning sign for me, but it went right over my head at the time.
The next couple of weeks, we repeated the same process, invited to the parade, going to the club, and getting to know each other. Mike had a pretty good sense of humor; he kept us laughing. MD was just an easy, laid-back California boy. Nothing really bothered him; I would say he was friendly but slightly aloof. I just felt like he was just keeping everyone a little bit of an arm's distance away. Mike was the youngest of seven kids, and to hear him talk, he said it many times, he was the black sheep of the family. He said he joined the Marine Corps because his mom wouldn't help him buy a car when he graduated. It sounded more like maybe he was spoiled, but I didn't know that for a fact.
I don't remember asking him to my graduation; I think he just took it upon himself to go. He and MD were running buddies, and MD was going, so he decided he was too. On the day of graduation, Judy received a dozen red roses, and I was sent a dozen yellow roses. I'm not a fan of yellow roses, but the gesture bowled me over. The guys were going to meet us at Cole Field House after the ceremony. We had to be there early to line up and get our instructions. The Cole Field House was an enormous place, but it wasn't air-conditioned and stifling hot inside. We were all sweating, sweat running down our faces. While sitting as a group, Judy and I spotted Mike and MD in the audience. Those poor guys had worn their dress blues; the coat is made of wool. They had to be dying in the heat. I just wanted to get out of there before I had heat exhaustion. Unfortunately, both Judy and my names were at the end of the alphabet; we didn't think they would ever call our names. Everyone was fanning themselves with their programs; it was almost mesmerizing. Finally, tassels turned to the opposite side, and caps were thrown into the air. We were officially graduates of the Class of 1969. Now everyone was almost running to turn their cap and gown in and get outside.
Outside we met up with our families and the two guys. They were absolutely soaking wet with sweat, but they were used to it; they endured it every Friday and every Tuesday night at the parades. We said goodbye to our families and headed off to drink and eat and celebrate.
We headed out to a place called Merrill's in DC. Judy and I frequently went there for lunch with our friends in our Work-Study class. Most of us had a one and a half or two-hour break between school and work. We could eat and drink wine coolers before we headed out to work and were never asked to show our IDs. Which was a good thing because half of us were under the drinking age of 18. That's really why we went there, we thought we could drink and not be bothered. We were enjoying the break from the heat, eating and ordering pitchers of wine coolers. Things were going well until two DC cops started walking around, checking a few IDs. Judy and I headed out for the bathroom, hoping to avoid the cops. They were still there but didn't come to our table, possibly because the guys were in uniform and maybe they assumed we were 18, or maybe they just didn't want to hassle a couple of vets.
After we finished eating, we went back to the barracks so the guys could shower and change clothes. We stayed at the club for a while and then rode around listening to music and drinking. For all practical purposes, we were now adults, our lives were going to take a lot of changes. The question was, would these two guys make the journey with us?
The next couple of weeks, we repeated the same process, invited to the parade, going to the club, and getting to know each other. Mike had a pretty good sense of humor; he kept us laughing. MD was just an easy, laid-back California boy. Nothing really bothered him; I would say he was friendly but slightly aloof. I just felt like he was just keeping everyone a little bit of an arm's distance away. Mike was the youngest of seven kids, and to hear him talk, he said it many times, he was the black sheep of the family. He said he joined the Marine Corps because his mom wouldn't help him buy a car when he graduated. It sounded more like maybe he was spoiled, but I didn't know that for a fact.
I don't remember asking him to my graduation; I think he just took it upon himself to go. He and MD were running buddies, and MD was going, so he decided he was too. On the day of graduation, Judy received a dozen red roses, and I was sent a dozen yellow roses. I'm not a fan of yellow roses, but the gesture bowled me over. The guys were going to meet us at Cole Field House after the ceremony. We had to be there early to line up and get our instructions. The Cole Field House was an enormous place, but it wasn't air-conditioned and stifling hot inside. We were all sweating, sweat running down our faces. While sitting as a group, Judy and I spotted Mike and MD in the audience. Those poor guys had worn their dress blues; the coat is made of wool. They had to be dying in the heat. I just wanted to get out of there before I had heat exhaustion. Unfortunately, both Judy and my names were at the end of the alphabet; we didn't think they would ever call our names. Everyone was fanning themselves with their programs; it was almost mesmerizing. Finally, tassels turned to the opposite side, and caps were thrown into the air. We were officially graduates of the Class of 1969. Now everyone was almost running to turn their cap and gown in and get outside.
Outside we met up with our families and the two guys. They were absolutely soaking wet with sweat, but they were used to it; they endured it every Friday and every Tuesday night at the parades. We said goodbye to our families and headed off to drink and eat and celebrate.
We headed out to a place called Merrill's in DC. Judy and I frequently went there for lunch with our friends in our Work-Study class. Most of us had a one and a half or two-hour break between school and work. We could eat and drink wine coolers before we headed out to work and were never asked to show our IDs. Which was a good thing because half of us were under the drinking age of 18. That's really why we went there, we thought we could drink and not be bothered. We were enjoying the break from the heat, eating and ordering pitchers of wine coolers. Things were going well until two DC cops started walking around, checking a few IDs. Judy and I headed out for the bathroom, hoping to avoid the cops. They were still there but didn't come to our table, possibly because the guys were in uniform and maybe they assumed we were 18, or maybe they just didn't want to hassle a couple of vets.
After we finished eating, we went back to the barracks so the guys could shower and change clothes. We stayed at the club for a while and then rode around listening to music and drinking. For all practical purposes, we were now adults, our lives were going to take a lot of changes. The question was, would these two guys make the journey with us?
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