Surfing Dude

by Ed Nelson

  In the morning we were all dressed for travel when the limo picked us up for the airport. So far Mary’s white gloves were still clean; her hat was a little bit crooked, but overall things looked good. Eddie had managed to get some dirt on his face.

  He squirmed when Mum daubed a handkerchief on her tongue and washed him off. I remember hating that when I was his age. Now days I keep my face clean. Maybe that was the point of it? Keep your face clean and you won’t have to have Mum’s spit on your face. I certainly learned to check myself before going out.

  While the ladies had on their hats and gloves, we gentlemen, yeah I know, wore our coats and ties. Dad and the boys had on Fedora hats. I had chosen to wear a light grey Stetson.

  Anyway it was an uneventful trip to the airport. We were taken directly to the Ambassador Club where our first class tickets were waiting. Several of the workers there came up and shook my hand while thanking me for what I had done.

  The flight itself was not very exciting. I did spend some time up front, but wasn’t allowed to fly the plane. The crew did thoroughly embarrass me by announcing over the PA system that there was nothing to fear, Sir Richard Edward Jackson, KG was on board. Where did they learn my middle name? From Mum’s smirk I think I knew.

  Other than that it was a boring flight. Eggs Benedict weren’t on the menu for this flight. So once more it was French toast for me.

  On landing, which was considerably smoother than mine we deplaned and boarded a limo to the Manger Hays-Adams hotel. We had two suites, with Mum, Dad and Mary in one, us boys in the other.

  We had a quiet dinner at the hotel. Mary told us about the nice lady by the name of Clover she had talked to in the hall. She had the nicest perfume that smelled like almonds. Mum looked puzzled because she had accompanied her all day and hadn’t seen anyone.

  We all retired early, the boys and I watched TV for a while, but the travel had tired us all out. Personally I don’t think it was the travel; it was being dressed up and on good behavior in front of our parents all day long. That would exhaust anyone.

  Thursday was our dinner with Ike and Mamie, in the morning we were picked up by a White House aide who took us on a tour of the major monuments. There was no waiting in line for the elevator at the Washington Monument. We had a docent give us a personal tour of the Smithsonian. The women loved the jewel collection; the guys were interested in the weapons and George Washington’s campaign tent.

  We all agreed that the behind the scene tour of the restoration of a Union Pacific 9000 class Big Boy was something. The 4-8-8-4 engine could pull up to four thousand tons. We had never seen anything like it come through Bellefontaine. It was engine 4014. They weren’t certain of its fate because of funding issues.

  A display that I really liked was the Chief Blackhoof display on loan from the Shawnee Nation. It had all the medals that I had found. Dad an inveterate reader of museum signs pointed out to me the fine print on the display near the bottom in small letters, “Thanks to R. Jackson.”

  When it came time to visit the National Art Gallery we declined. We were toured out for the morning. I think our White House Aide was relieved as he didn’t argue at all. He did join us for lunch at the hotel. After that we retired to our rooms to freshen up. When we met back at the lobby Mary told us she had seen the nice lady again, but she only waved this time. Mum still was puzzled.

  We were taken over to the White House early for a grand tour. I who loved my history stories was getting historied out.

  We gathered for dinner in the Family Dining Room. There for the first time I saw Cheryl Hawthorne. She wasn’t the same as I remembered her. She had a harder look to her. Maybe it was due to the make-up she had on. She was wearing a bra type under her sweater that we called nose cones. It certainly was an announcement that she had breasts.

  I went to shake her hand, but she swept me up in a hug that lasted a few seconds too long.

  After that I reintroduced myself to her parents. Her father of course had on his uniform with two stars. As high as he was in the military being around Eisenhower still had him in awe. I guess five stars really do out rank two, and Commander in Chief really outranks all.

  Ike and Mamie were their normal nice low key selves. From the way the President made everyone comfortable you could see how he brought all those larger than life personalities together in World War II. He had us all laughing as he told us this was a special occasion as he and Mamie usually had dinner on TV trays in front of their porthole TV.

  He informed me the Secret Service was delighted that I had worn my cowboy hat, as my code name was Cowboy. General Hawthorne remarked that he had always thought of me as a cowboy, but the way he said it wasn’t nice.

  Ike gave him a frown and told him, “This young man probably prevented a world war with the Russians, recently broke up a Russian spy ring, saved the Queen of England and just last week landed a 707 to save everyone on board. I wish we had more Cowboys. That ignores the fact he is a movie star, and is on his way through his inventions of being the richest person in the world. I told Dick Nixon he ought to have his daughter Julie chase him, might get her off David’s back.”

  The General stuttered a little as he assured us that he no longer thought of me as a wild one. I was glad the President hadn’t mentioned my singing. Maybe he appreciated music. Something did change though, Cheryl was clinging from the moment she heard the word richest. During dinner her breast found ways to rub against my arm.

  During the dinner conversation Mamie asked Mary if she liked the White House. Mary told her it was okay, but she thought ours was bigger, and that they should have a stable, and that the furniture was so old. I thought Dad was going to choke on his food. Mum blushed, the reddest I have ever seen her. Ike and Mamie thought it was funny as all get out. The Hawthorns sat there with a confused look, not knowing how to react. Mary herself looked puzzled about the reactions being demonstrated. I just wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

  At the end of the meal after dessert Mamie asked if she could order anything else. Mary looking directly at me asked if they had any hot chocolate. She was told it would be a few minutes, so she said never mind. Mum gave her a big smile and I don’t think it was for not inconveniencing the White House staff. I got the message and agreed.

  As we were parting I got another too long of a hug from Cheryl and an invitation to write or call whenever I wanted. I gave a noncommittal answer. On the way out I had to pose with several secret service agents for pictures wearing my hat. They assured me it was for their files.

  When we were about to leave I was taken aside by an agent. Ike was waiting (I think the whole world knew him as Ike, no disrespect intended.) Ike gave me a card with a phone number on it.

  “Memorize this number then destroy the note. Call this number from anywhere in the world will get you to the appropriate agency. Use it wisely.”

  “Why are you giving this to me?”

  “Rick, you seem to have things happen around you, so far they have helped the country. We want to help you, and in doing so help ourselves.”

  “I hope I never have to use this number.”

  “So do I, so do I.”

  “Is it only good while you are in office?”

  “It puts you on a list that is active indefinitely.”

  “Thank you Mr. President.”

  “We want to take care of you, besides I don’t want Elizabeth or Lady Jackson down on me.”

  I gave a small laugh, “I don’t know about the Queen, but you do know Mum.”

  At that we shook hands and I rejoined my family. From their looks I think Mum and Dad knew what had happened.

  We went back to the hotel. I was restless so asked if I could go for a run. It was a brisk Washington night with clear skies. I was told to go ahead. I was surprised when I was accompanied on my run with two very fit Secret Service agents. I know they were fit because I tried to run them into the ground around the reflecting pool and they kept pace easily.

 
When we were finished I thanked them for the company. During the run I thought about Cheryl. I knew people changed but wow. The most disappointing thing was the Cheryl I remembered had small breasts, I think she was wearing falsies!

  Chapter 41

  Friday morning there was the Boy Scouts award ceremony in the Rose Garden at the White House. I was wearing a newly tailored scout uniform with all my badges sewn on. I think it was from Brooks Brothers, Mum had taken care of it. She even had my OA Vigil Honor Sash for me.

  With my family at my side I was awarded the BSA Medal of Honor with crossed palms, my ribbon had two palms; one for saving the Queen; and the other for landing the Boeing 707 and saving those lives. They had time to investigate the incident with the Queen, the 707 was such a public story there was little investigating to do.

  Mr. Schuck the Chief Scout Executive said that if I were an adult I would probably receive the Silver Buffalo, which is the highest American honor, the Silver Wolf the highest British honor, and the Bronze Wolf the highest world scouting honor. I probably was smarting off too much when I replied that gave me a goal to work for. He looked a little pained when I said that. Hey, I am sixteen.

  A very pleasant surprise was that my Scout Master Mr. Geist was present. BSA had him flown in for the ceremony which I thought was great. He told me that I was still on the troop rolls and would be carried until I was eighteen. They were proud of me. I told him that I appreciated the skills I had been taught and which had helped on numerous occasions. He thought for a moment and replied that he didn’t remember the part about landing a jet plane, but he would be glad to take credit. Seriously I owed him a lot.

  After the ceremony and pictures taken with the President, Chief Scout Executive and every combination of all the others present I was taken to the press room where I had to answer all the same questions over again that I had from the Saving the Queen, and Landing the Jet. At least that is how the reporters expressed it.

  “I just reacted with the Queen; I was scared but did my duty with a lot of help in landing the jet.”

  Well those weren’t my exact words, but that is the gist of it.

  From there we went directly to the airport and boarded a flight to LAX. That had me traveling in my scout uniform. I was amazed at the number of men in the airport and on the flight who took the opportunity to tell me they had been scouts, or scout leaders.

  I slept a good bit of the flight. Mary was sitting next to me and slept even more than I did. It was uneventful to say the least. I didn’t even go up to the cockpit.

  We were a subdued bunch by the time we got home. It was early evening when we arrived at Jackson House, but there was no energy to do anything. Dad turned on the TV and the family joined him for a rare evening spent around the boob tube. Our sleep was so messed up that we were still there for the evening news.

  There must have been nothing happening in the world as my receiving my scouting awards in the Rose Garden story was shown. It was brief, but I must say as a family we looked good. It also put my height in perspective as I towered over the Presidents five-foot ten inches.

  In the morning I performed my daily routine. I had to get up at five o’clock and it now took an hour, not counting the time to get showered, shaved, and dressed. Today was the day of the sock hop. I had always thought a sock hop was an evening event, but they wanted us at Hollywood High by one o’clock.

  That still left me the morning to goof off. I was ahead of schedule on school work, my flying lessons now consisted of building up hours. Mr. McGarry had told me he would be more comfortable if I took my multi-engine training at a commercial school. He was licensed for it, but it had been several years and he was considering dropping it as he hadn’t had any students in the last five years.

  Like all flying licenses you had to maintain currency and it wasn’t worth it to him. While he wasn’t that old, forty-two he was considering slowing his life down. He was getting tired of living on the edge as a one man school and was thinking about hiring on with a commercial school.

  After we bought our jet, I wonder if Jackson Enterprises would need a flight director. That was a problem for another day; though that and other issues had to be addressed in the near future. I was letting other people run my companies. From what I had read it was a sure way for things to go off track, and even lose the companies.

  Those thoughts aside I decided to go over to the studio and brush up on some of my skills.

  I spent two hours at archery, after that there were several tough sword bouts. No one was available for boxing or unarmed combat. It pretty well used up the morning so I headed home for lunch and to get dressed for the sock hop.

  We had been told to wear what we would for a normal school day. What was a normal school day in this world? I went with tan chinos, and a light blue polo shirt, with brown penny loafers and a dark blue sport coat. The coat was a little formal for school, but I could always take it off.

  I thought I was going to a dance. I was disabused of that notion as soon as I arrived. It was a Hollywood circus. First who has ever heard of a sock hop having valet parking, or a red carpet? When I drove into the parking lot I was directed to a valet who took my T-Bird, I was loaded into a limo and driven to the front entrance where a red carpet was set up. There were film crew’s present and fake fans. I call them fake fans because I recognized some of them from various movie sets as extras.

  At the end of the carpet there was a brief interview about how I was looking forward to the program. What happened to the dance? The gym floor had been covered except for a small area at one end. I then was directed to a table where I was checked in against a list. I was given a bag the size of a large grocery bag, except it had the name of a famous designer on it.

  I was then ushered to a table. Sitting at the table were people I didn’t know. All of them were older than me. We all had our names on little tents.

  Those at my table were all former consulate students. It was interesting that there were: Russians, Germans, French, British, Spanish, Argentinian, and South Korean’s at the same table with me. It was its own United Nations.

  After the self-introductions I found I was a person of interest at the table because I was the only Hollywood type there. After the usual questions of what it was like to be a movie star we all agreed that this was a weird event. While we had been talking, Dick Clark of Bandstand Fame had taken to the center stage. He started playing music. A bunch of kids came onto the floor. All dressed in high school clothes, not wearing shoes, and all from a well-known dance company.

  From what I could hear Clark saying it was to be presented as though these were students from the various schools. While this was going on film crews were recording everything.

  That was when I realized I was at a made for TV event.

  I stood up, not forgetting my bag and went out a side door of the gym. I was not a happy camper. I thought about filing a union complaint as I had not been asked to sign a contract for a performance, but thought to heck with it.

  Exiting the gym I realized I had walked into a crowd. I recognized many of them. They were all actors and they all had the same attitude I did. We talked for a while; I finally had enough and said I was going to the beach. That proved to be a popular idea. Some didn’t have rides so I hauled some of them with me.

  We agreed to meet at Katin’s. All of us had to buy or rent gear to wear when we got there. Again some had money, some didn’t. I bit the bullet and told Nancy to put it all on my tab. That really meant the Warner Brothers tab for my upcoming movie. I may get some flak for that, but would face it when the time came. I could always pay them out of pocket.

  The ladies trying on swim suits became a fashion show in its own right. There was a lot of laughing and joking as each girl would come out and pose. Somewhere along the way a bath tub full of soft drinks on ice was set up.

  We moved on down to the beach, with a bunch of beach blankets, I assume on my tab. We splashed and played in the waves. Some guys even got ou
t surf boards. We were a pretty balanced group of boys and girls. Some pairing off started almost at once. A cute little girl named Alice seemed to attach herself to me. I had no objections.

  The afternoon flew by with an impromptu volley ball game. My height helped a lot, but some of those girls were killers!

  As the afternoon went on more people showed up, but they joined in with us, rather than make scenes. A few papa rats-eyes were even there, but even they were better behaved than normal. One even politely asked me to kiss Alice to start rumors and give him a sellable picture.

  Hey, who am I not to help private enterprise. Alice didn’t object and seemed to appreciate private enterprise also, or she just enjoyed kissing. Some questions shouldn’t be asked.

  Towards evening a rusty old grill was brought out and hamburgers and hotdogs put on. I don’t know where they came from and didn’t care, I was hungry. Since there were over two-hundred people there by this time someone was bringing in food from In and Out, Burger Chef, McDonalds and others from the labels on the bags that appeared.

  As evening deepened fires were lit, ukuleles and guitars brought out and the singing started. I quietly joined in. Somewhere along the way Alice disappeared. I didn’t know her last name or get any contact information. Oh well, I’m sure the tabloids will let me know.

  The groups slowly broke up. Those I had given rides to apparently found others as I was one of the few left on the beach. Finally we gave up, except for some hardy souls who announced they were sleeping on the beach. Good luck with that and the early morning sand fleas.

  I went home. Mum and Dad wanted to know what kept me so long and where had I been, Susan Wallace had been franticly hunting for me, most of the afternoon. I explained what was supposed to be a dance was really a made for TV event. I and others had left for a day at the beach. They were cool with that, stating that the schools and studios really had a nerve.