Markie D, The Fire Chief and the Big Mystery

(Continued from last time) Sept 1969

"Going by the Blasers...Now the McClains. Hi Mac how ya doing?  Now by the Bibles Hey Pat, Cathy... beautiful day!  Now a jaunt by Campbell's court around the corner in front of Doctor Arnold's. Hey Doc!"

My dad, "Mr. D" was in the living room jogging in place and talked to himself. He pretended to run around the block and say "hi" to all the neighbors that he passed on his short imaginary journey that took far less time to accomplish than a real run down around Harding Avenue, Grandview, Venice Boulevard, Naples and back.

I had fully intended on jumping on one of the motorcycles out in front and driving it over to the Venice Fire station, but since I had just turned 13 and dad was home - I opted to ride over on the handlebars of Jimmy's custom Stingray "Krate" with the 3 speed gear-shift-lever.  



The only problem with the cool gear-shift-lever is that if you ever slipped off the pedal "OUCH!" Boy did that black knob hurt the "vitals."  (Don't tell Jimmy, but every now and then I jammed on the brakes pretending it was purely accidental, hoping I could get him to jam his boy parts on the shifter! This morning on the way to the Fire Station it worked twice and poor Jimmy could barely walk by the time we arrived).

Anyway, I walked into the station with my list of arson suspects with poor Jimmy hobbling behind and asked to see the Chief. Knowing that he had been at a loss since Young and Manson had officially been removed as prime suspects (last post), I showed him my list of suspects and explained everyone's motives.

1) Chet Young
2) Charles Manson and gang
3) Mr. Blaser
4) A couple of my brothers and a long-haired friend
5) Susie Grant
6)  Mr. D (my dad).
7) Johnny Gillemot
8) The Catholic Nuns
9) Leeland
10) Walter Daniels
11) The Nargies
12) Tommy Blaser
13)  Mr. Malon

Though my neighbor, Don Blaser, had helped in the rescue, he had as much motive to burn the house to the ground as did most of the hard working responsible adults on our street. It was a plight and it needed to go!
The Chief's eyes widened and seemed very interested in Mr. Blaser- until I explained what I thought, unfortunately, was a pretty iron-clad alibi. We were right next door to the Blaser's and our house was an even worse plight.

I had an old couple from Nebraska pull up in front of my house one time and ask me if our dilapidated old thing was a hippie commune. With all the junk and the cars and the long-hairs hanging around. I have to admit, we did look like a commune which certainly had to drive down the prices of real estate on our street. Besides the fleas, the mosquitoes and the escaping rattlesnakes - Escaping Rattlesnakes and Iguana Del Diablo (click here) being right next door to the Blasers...this gave Mr. Blaser more motive to burn our house to the ground.




                                 click here for: Infamous Trash Towers of Venice






Judging by these pictures you might understand why the Fire chief could have felt why Don Blaser would have wanted our house to go up in flames first.

The Fire Chief had written his name down as a person of interest and then sadly scratched it off seeing the logic that if Don Blaser was going to burn anyone's house down-  it definitely would have been ours first!

1) Chet Young
2) Charles Manson and gang
3) Mr. Blaser 

My 4th suspect wasn't just one person, but was really three of the older boys who had been rejected in their cross-dressing scheme hoping to fake out the phony "frat guys" in order to gain acceptance into the place (this was what they had to do for losing a bet).

Again he was interested! I think the city of Venice was looking for any good reason to lock us up, but I explained that it probably wasn't the older long-hairs who had dressed up as girls to get into spurious  "Frat House" - because the guys had all taken their girl friends on another one of their notorious "Albino hikes" Click here for : Albinos and Vampires and finished off the night out back in the hippie-hutch-hut we called "Wall Drug."



That explained the reason why we couldn't wake them up right away when all of the explosions were going off.  They had just gotten to bed and probably had a little too much of this and a little too much of that....

                                Even more sadly, he crossed them off too!

4) Chewbacca. Puke-Breath. Primo. 
5) Next was Susie. Although, she was young, she had every reason to burn the place down. It wasn't because she necessarily wanted to see the place go up in flames, but rather because she wanted to punish her older brother for dropping her on her head on more than one occasion.  (I asked the Chief if he had seen the movie The Bad Seed and told him that I think she could have done it).  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and wanted to hear more.



"Isn't that right Jimmy?" I said, calling on my star witness. "Jimmy, tell the Chief why you believe it could have been Susie. (He was there when Cameron dropped kicked Susie from the second floor balcony of the "Fraternity house" and saw the whole thing). "Jimmy!"




Jimmy was over on the bench, apparently consumed with rubbing life back into his numb boy parts and hadn't been paying attention to one thing were were talking about.

I could tell this investigation was going nowhere without me, and now, the Fire Chief  was beginning to realized  how much he needed my eyes and ears if we were ever going to solve this mystery.

Next time: Susie off the hook and Johnny Gillemot's alibi!  



 

Last Supper, Jalapenos and The Creature!

Last Supper and Jalapenos Pt 2

I have a lot of Superpowers, but most of them are in my imagination! Whenever I am buried in a pit, dropped out of a window, shot with needle-tipped arrows, electrocuted, tied up in a rope, or shoved in a hamper, those circumstances provide the opportunity to pretend!  I pretend that I am Superman or Spider Man... and in this latest adventure of the diabolical scheming by older brothers (AKA the Wolf Pack) I wished I could have been the new action hero - Iron Man - mainly because he doesn't feel anything. In the times when I'm been tortured and I receive the gift of adrenalin that pulses through my body and I get the strength of about 3 or 4 boys my size...like the mom who has the superhuman strength to lift up a car to free a trapped baby, I have to be reminded that I am only human. DANG IT! I come to the painful realization that I am like most mere mortals.

Anyway, getting back to the story about the Hawaiian, Luau themed party in the backyard. Everyone was having a good time outside at the party until it came to a screeching halt when they heard the piercing shriek of horror coming out of my mother's bedroom window.

Mr. and Mrs. Nargie heard it
Mr. and Mrs. Blaser heard it
All of those at the (now ruined and infamous) Luau in the backyard heard it!

The Steadmans across the street
The Lennons down at the corner

The Nuns at the convent around the corner
The old grouch next door- and her drunk brother, Hutch, heard it!
The Tripps
John Gillemonster on Naples

and Mrs. Gass over on Crestmore Ave
the Grants down on Angelus Place heard it
The Vasquez'
and Bobby Manriquez  - they all heard it!

I'm sure some heard the terrible screams of the 7-year-old all the way to the Venice canals... and if you were alive back then, it is possible that if you think really hard you might just remember hearing this awful screaming no matter where you might have been in the world at that time.

If you didn't hear me screaming in pain, then you heard my mom, shouting out furiously for Roy (that's what she called my dad) to do something!  That was nice I thought. It was good thing to know that she still cared and still went a little berserk from time to time when bad things were happening.

I don't know exactly why they did it...or whose idea it was to cut open all the left over jalapenos and smear the skins and the juice all over my tender little body. They took off my shirt, held me down and wanted to see what the hot chili peppers would do to human tissue when rubbed over its entirety! By that, I mean everything that was exposed - like arms, legs, upper torso, both arm pits, face and lips.  Everything turned red and swelled, I looked like a red Pillsbury-Dough-Boy that had caught on fire.

I was burning up and wanted to jump from the window, but they held me down until they heard the rushing footsteps of Mr. D tromping up the stairs, then they vaporized into the four corners of the globe (i.e. cluttered bedrooms on the third floor).

Dad picked me up and began running down the stairs and mom began shouting for him to take me to the emergency hospital...she thought I was going to die. My eyes burned and were swelled shut, but I could tell he turned right instead of left. This was not the way to the front - instead he was headed for the backyard!

The pain was too great...I screamed...She screamed and had begun to shout down curses on the older boys and said stuff about "Pain of Mortal Sin" and about how they would never see their way out of Purgatory!

Embarrassed, people left the party quickly yet somber like it was a funeral dirge... as they cleared a path for my dad who was holding an unrecognizable hideous red creature in his arms. Instead, of the hospital, he flung me into the pool! More screaming by Mrs. D...which launched Jerry LaFountaine on a rampage in a search and destroy mission through the the house for the boys. Boy, did he enjoy that! Poor Jerry, however,was sorely disappointed because he could not find a single soul to punish as my clever siblings hid in the secret crawl space behind the walls up in the third story across from the rattlesnake cages.

After recovering from the shock of being tossed into the pool, I emerged from the water CHANGED! Something happened in the chemical reaction to the burns that interacted with the chemicals that had been release by the adrenal glands located in the cortex on top of my kidneys.

I emerged from the water as if i were The Creature from the Black Lagoon bent on revenge. Frightening the remaining guest away, I went on a pillaging rampage... and ate all the cowardly older brothers, drinking all of their blood and letting the helpless reptiles out of their cages (seeing that now, I was related to the scaled reptiles).

I walked the earth all the rest of my days alone and hunted, a reptilian fugitive surviving off the flesh of humans and yearning to drink blood.

Okay, so the last part - the part after I was thrown into the pool and went around eating everybody was only something conjured up in my puny brain while I had been intoxicated with drugs to numb the pain.

Though I was a hideous little red creature for the next couple days and looked like an actual relative to the monster from the Black Lagoon - or something that lived in the snake cages upstairs, I laid in bed, draped in damp towels having weird thoughts and mostly thankful that I hadn't eaten any family members or drank their blood.

A week later, however, I did manage to sneak up stairs when no one was home and opened the door to a rattlesnake cage.  Hehehehe...  

Someone sounded the rattlesnake escape-alarm and raised the flag to alert the neighbors.  Havoc reigned and neighbors complained... but it was just another regular day on Harding avenue...where we all survived - not perfectly unscathed, but enough to share the infamous and crazy stories that made life worth living.







 

 

The WOLF-BOY Halloween - VIDEO

 SAINTS AND THE WOLF BOY

Some time ago I promised that I would post a video regarding the greatest horror story of all time.

This 1962 event was supposed to be Markie D's first hallowed "All Saint's Day" outing. Mrs. Dahlin meant well, but the innocuous and innocent plan quickly turned into a debacle of epic horror proportions. Worst than the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the police had to be called to restore order to the once peaceful and quite neighborhood that was rocked by sightings said to be the Spawn of Charles Manson. 







Please watch responsibly!


                             (this link is for Android users   http://youtu.be/XS1V9SGBd9o

I tell this story as though it conjured some emotional baggage that I have to carry around from my childhood. But in reality - when you think about emotional baggage...think about this: My older teenage brothers (IN HIGH SCHOOL) were dressed up like Saints on Halloween (Embarrassing)!  I had it good! I scared people with my costume and my poor older brothers were dress up like Saints well into the season in their male existence where they were trying to impress the ladies.  They are the ones that had it bad!  I think they are still struggling with the emotional scar tissue and if it wasn't for me - they'd still be 'Trick or Treating" in Saint costumes!    Every October 31st they should be sending me money instead of candy.

After this incident the saint costumes were retired and the boys got to be vampires and goblins and Frankenstein like other normal kids in the world.  Meanwhile the Famous Lennons were inspired to begin decorating their home for Halloween into a haunted mansion that grew quite notorious over the years.  

        Nothing on Earth is so beautiful as the final haul on Halloween night.  Steve Almond

Something between Vampires and Frankenstein

A look at the blossoming Wolf Pack. 

Welcome to dinner at my house.

(Continued from last blog post "Fish Stick Fiasco") With the "beware-lost-rattlesnake " flag flying over the house and Kleghorn clanging the old alarm on the back porch, Dad walked into the house to find the Wolf Pack in hysterics. Four eyes and the girls were screeching, the mynah bird was cussing and the rest of the Viking brood were hair pulling, standing on couches and climbing walls and up on top of each other for safety. It looked like a fight at a hockey game had broken out. A couple of the boys were hanging from the molding over the doors and a couple were clinging to the wainscoting not wanting their feet to touch the ground. It was a sight! It was a typical Friday night at the Dahlin house.

As soon as I heard my dad, I stopped shaking the baby rattle and returned to the mayhem inside. Dad stopped at the wooden double-sliding doors that separated the dining room from the living room and just shook his head in utter dismay. He watched the hysterics looking for an explanation. Ulrich...tried to explain that the fugitive rattlesnake was somewhere in the room.

"KLEGHORN!" dad yelled, as a command to quit sounding the ancient and bullet ridden firehouse alarm.

Kleghorn joined the others in the dining room who had grown silent trying to prove to dad that they had heard the deadly snake slithering around the downstairs. There wasn't a sound, not even one shake of a rattler's tail. I smiled (mostly on the inside - afraid of giving my secret away). Dad shook his head, rolled his eyes and scavenged the kitchen for any leftover fish sticks as things returned to the normal high-decibel hullabaloo.

Being thoroughly embarrassed, the big brave hippies had something to prove to their girlfriends and began hatching their plan for the "Albino Camp Hike." (I'm pretty sure this isn't politically correct now-a-days, but this was the cultural/historical setting back then).

Back then, none of us were really sure what Albinos were. In the hierarchy of things that we had to be afraid of...we thought they were somewhere between Vampires and Frankenstein, right up there with ghost - way above lost rattlesnakes.

This Albino-camp-hike-thing they did was like a snipe hunt, combined with camp-fire stories about the "one armed hatchet murderer" and "submarine races."   Back then I was too young to knew what submarine races were and still thought snipe were real.

How perfect was this for the older boys...this was like shooting fish in a barrel. They would take all their girl friends on a late night hike behind that movie star - Ronald Reagan's house up on Amalfi drive.  They would walk that old dirt road lined with eucalyptus trees with these girls who were scared spit-less holding tightly to arms of the brave Viking men and crew.    Oh boy... could it get any better for those guys! 

They sat around the living room and told the girls about how dangerous the hike would be!

One of the guys tried to explain what Albinos were to the girls and said, they were half human and drank blood.

Gustav said they had thin transparent skin like desert geckos and could only come out at night.

Bjorn said the Albinos had to be locked up in this secure facility to keep them from straying off and eating the flesh of other humans.

Knut agreed saying they had razor sharp teeth.

Ulrich said they had red laser-eyes and if you looked into them you would be disintegrated. When Ulrich said this, three of the boys swatted him on the head...for exaggerating.

Dooh-Dooh Pants talked about their boney hands and pointed fingernails.

In broken Spanish, Chewy said they made the sound of the chachalaca.

They hadn't even left the house yet and the girls were already terrified and clinging to the boys.

My dad looked across the table and winked at me as though he had his own spark of genius.

The herd of wild hair and anxious felines jumped into the black Lincoln we called the "Scuba-Mobile" and headed off for Santa Monica Canyon.

Down, down, down the long dirt road they walked terrified in the darkness of the moonless night. Fearful and on edge the silly girls practically wrapped themselves around the brave, fearless Vikings. Cautiously they forged ahead along the path, wary of Albinos that might have escaped and lie in wait for fresh human flesh. With every step, hearts pounded in rapid palpitations. Fear had even gripped the older boys, but they pretended to be brave. Approaching the gates, the eclectic congregation peered through the wrought iron bars searching for the elusive Albinos.

Ulrich saw white figures swaying in the gentle ocean breeze and let out a blood curdling scream. Panic ensued, girls cried and feet fled. The mob ran hysterically back towards the large black car...when the very worst thing imaginable happened. Albinos had managed to squeeze through the bars and indeed laid in ambush.

I'm sorry, but I'll have to finish the gory and frightening details in my next terrifying blog post...

Until then...  Vet att du är älskad