Knick 1947- 2018/R I P Dennis
Hooky Bobber, Wed Mar 21 2018, 12:37PM

Dennis K.txt

Growing up Bear in the '60's

Three years ago my mother died, followed six months later by my older
brother, making me the oldest member of my family. At that time I came into
possession of our old family photographs, as well as boxes of letters and old
family records.

My grandfather was an important man in the early days of Big Bear, not by
making a lot of money, but by building and developing the valley in its early
years.

In my youth I, grew tired of people saying, "are you one of those
Knickerbockers?" It is difficult living in the shadow of such a man and I
didn't take much interest in the family history.

I have few memories of my grandfather and never had the chance to ask the
questions I would like to have answered now.

There have been many things written about my grandfather that were not true
and many of the things he did were never told. In an effort to correct the
record and try to explain his motives I began to read letters and recall
stories that were told to me by people who were his friends and gratefully
shared his memories.

In this research I got glimpses of my parents, and my mother's family in
their early years and their love for Big Bear and learned that there were as
many questions that I never asked them either.

Luckily, both of my parent's families had cameras and managed to take a few
pictures as they grew up. My mother's family documented from birth and there
are pictures of older Kansas and Colton. In Colton, their house was where a
parking lot for the high school is located now and a nearby neighbor was an
early sheriff of Colton named Virgil Earp. He and his brothers would become
famous because of his brother Wyatt's connection with the movie industry and
word got around about the OK corral shootout in Tombstone Arizona.

Having grown up during the depression, my parents learned never to throw
anything away and I have many of their early letters that added more colors to
their lives. My father's pictures began when he was about 16 and show some of
the early Big Bear. His high school annuals were printed when they were
having classes above McNeal's Trading Post and in the Elk's club building.
There were candid photos that told a lot about their activities and some of
his classmates were early settlers and would later contribute to the valley.

Both families had photos of their relatives in Kansas and Pennsylvania.

Our parent's lives were much more difficult then ours. They were born in
the aftermath of WW1. As children, they lived through the depression, and as
young adults they were faced with WW2. Just as they thought things would be
easier, we came along.

I had always thought they lived ordinary, if not boring lives, but they
lived during extraordinary times and each became a piece in the puzzle of
their era. My father went to school in Big Bear and graduated with the second
high school graduating class. Even though it was a small school, they managed
to put out a yearbook. The had dances, a band and even sports teams, though
it was difficult to find another team to play. After graduation, he went to
work for the CCC and built camps, trails and roads in the valley, as well as a
road thru the Devil's Playground in Death Valley. When he met and married my
mother they spent their honeymoon at Butler Peak, as fire lookouts. One of
the memories my mother enjoyed telling was watching a condor ride the thermals
over the canyon for hours. They then transferred to be the resident rangers
at Converse Flats for the Forest Service. When the war began, my father
became a fireman at Calship where they built liberty ships used in the
Pacific. Kaiser steel was built to provide the steel and Boulder dam provided
the electrical energy that fueled the factories to supply the machines of war.

My mother's brothers were both in the Navy during the war. Their letters
were highly censored, but one had sailed into Japan as the surrender was
signed. I have items that they had sent including an American flag that one
had carried and a Japanese flag he had brought home.

Big Bear fared well during the war due to the fact it was within a gas
tank's range, which, with gas rationing, was very important. Besides gas,
tires, meat, sugar and butter were among the things rationed. I am sure that
with the cattle herds and the deer in the woods meat was never in short
supply.

Stillwell's was just one of the dinner houses with dancing that attracted
the tourists. There were slot machines that would disappear when they were
tipped or cars were seen coming up the hill. They finally made a well-planned
raid and many of the machines ended up off Stillwell's broken and dumped in
the lake.

After the war the family moved back to the valley and my dad went to work
for the fire department. With his experience, he trained the fire fighters
and organized the office, as well as helping to get some surplus equipment
from the government.

At this time the fire Department was in the area that is the back parking
lot of the Post Office today. They moved the building up to where the IHOP
parking lot is and then into the building recently replaced at the north end
of Knickerbocker Rd. When there was a fire, the horn on top of the station
would blow a code and the firemen would either respond to the station or go
directly to the fire.

One of my close friends lived up the street from us and one night their
house caught fire and my father stepped out of the bed into the turnouts that
were always at the edge of the bed. Responding directly to the scene, and
fearing that Lance or one of his brothers was in the house he entered and
searched the burning house. The family was at the show and all he got for
from his efforts was seared lungs and a heart attack. This ended his career.
He caught emphysema and spent the next 25 years becoming more and more reliant
on an oxygen tank. Eventually, he had to leave the valley to less altitude
and drier air.

My mother had to take the burden of providing and, having worked assisting
Dr. Beach and as matron at the police Department, applied for and got a job as
dispatcher for Colton P.D. She had to leave the valley for 5 days a week and
would come home on her days off.

A few weeks ago, a chance question during phone calls with old friends, as
well as realizing that there are not many people who are around that remember
Big Bear during "our" time, have caused me to write how it was when I was
young.

The question I asked was, "When do you think Big Bear died?" The
interesting thing was not their answers but the fact that nobody said it
hadn't.

Obviously it has not died but the era we experienced is not around anymore.

My friends and I were the first of the spoiled generations that have
followed. As a rule we never had to make the sacrifice that our parents made.
None of us cured cancer, but so far none of has been on America's most wanted
either.... yet. But we all contributed in our own way.

The class of 65 was kind of an in-between class. Most were to old to be
hippies and all managed to survive Vietnam. Big Bear lost soldiers in classes
before and after ours. I don't know how many of us spent our year over there
or if any went to Canada to avoid it. I know a lot went to college and
managed to avoid the draft. Either way, nobody wanted to know what you did
and those who served were lucky if they were ignored. We did have one
casualty due in part to the military. He was one of those who spent his
entire life in Big Bear, played some sports and was a very good skier. One of
two that I know of who smoked a little marijuana, he got good grades and went
to college. He didn't do well and was eventually drafted. He didn't make the
conversion and was discharged and moved back to Big Bear, but was discouraged
by life and after several years died from an overdose. One of the girls died
soon after graduation and another committed suicide. Another died 20 years
later from cancer. As far as I know, the rest are still around. In our
graduating class, there were about 15 that grew up from early grade school
together. The first three of those who died were from this group. About half
stayed in the valley or have since moved back. We had a 20 year reunion and
even with the years, it was easy to see they really hadn't changed much.
Close friends picked up where they left off, even though they hadn't kept in
touch. We had a pretty good turnout and everyone said they would keep in
touch, but few have. Only a few of the people who lived in Big Bear showed
up. The rest had come from as far as Utah for a dinner and see old friends.

The night of graduation we had gone to Disneyland on our last bus ride
together. We had only gotten to the bottom of red ant hill before we
collectively realized that the lives we had grown comfortable in were changed
forever. Some went on to college so they could pretend to have their security
blanket but now they found more competition for grades as most learned they
were lower on the ladder then they had been in our school. Most now had to
work to help pay for school and were in a different crowd then before. Some
of the guys enlisted or were drafted, as the Vietnam war escalated. A lot of
us had jobs that we moved into full time and we stayed comfortable in our home
town. The treasure that we amassed is our memories and the Big Bear we
remember as a much better place then what we see today.

In an effort to keep the '50's and '60's alive and give my grand children
the insight that I wish I would have gotton, I decided to write the Big Bear
that I remember before I finish my grandfather's story.

I was born on June 20, 1947 in a building southwest of the telephone company
office in town and spent the first 18 years living in a small house on an acre
that is on the southeast corner of Knickerbocker and Pennsylvania. I was the
youngest of three brothers who were born over a span of 5 years.

The first 14 years my world was within a mile of this house, as well as the
mountains to the south, clear to Skyline Drive and I learned every rock and
tree within this area. With a series of friends, we kept busy exploring and
learning. We played Army on the lawn of the school, spent hours lying on the
cool grass looking at clouds, caught lizards, snakes and tree frogs. We built
two-story forts, played baseball and after our big summer chore of raking all
the pine needles on our acre, we would be able to go to Stillwells and swim in
the pool.

When I was about 2, my mother was driving us around Baldwin lake in a
surplus amphibious "duck" when we had an accident and rolled over the side of
the road. Our middle brother, Douglas, was killed and my mother was bleeding
badly. My brother Mike and I climbed up to the highway and flagged down some
help. We were taken to the doctor's office in a patrol car. My mother had
her cheek almost cut off and was sewn up by Dr. Beach, leaving a terrible scar
on her face as well as a worse one on her heart. Douglas was a very smart
child, who I learned recently shared everything he got with his little
brother. Mike and I were not as close and never really became close until he
had his first experience with cancer.

Our house was a very small two bedroom that was probably thirty years old
when we moved in. We had a wood stove until I was about ten and a fuel oil
stove for heat. During the summer, we would put the heating stove on the
porch for a little more room. We replaced the stove with a Gaffers and Satler
that ran on propane, so there was no more splitting wood. One thing that our
house never had was a lock on the door. Most houses were not locked in the
valley, except for the vacation cabins, probably because there was not much
worth stealing. The businesses in town were hooked to a gas line that was
connected to some large tanks near the current Sheriff's station. The gas was
trucked up the back grade. As the valley grew there were a few times in the
winter the trucks could not deliver and they ran out. They finaly snaked a
line up thru Holcomb Valley and everyone began hooking up to natural gas as it
became available. Phones were party lines for the most part and you had a 4
digit number. Later they added a UNiversity 6 as a prefix but it was several
years before you had to dial more then the 8. Eventually, they added 714 for
an area code.

We didn't have television until I was about 11 years old. Before that, we
had to listen to the radio or records for in home entertainment.

As a fireman, my father earned little money and would supplement income by
felling trees around the valley. He was very good at this and had a perfect
safety record, as did his father. He would climb and top trees when needed
and, if it was needed, would attach a cable to our large trucks winch to help
pull the tree as it began to fall. As the valley grew, it was necessary to
have the power company remove lines, but usually he could drop a tree exactly
where it was safest to put it down. I will describe this process more in my
Grandfather's story. While some of the valley's lumberjacks were dropping
trees on their trucks, peoples' houses -- and even one who was topping a tree
looped his rope over a limb and cut himself out of the tree -- the only
accidents on our jobs were me getting bit by dogs. One day I went to the
doctor twice from different dogs. Tree felling for us was a family affair and
one of my first memories is the smell of burning two-stroke fuel, sawdust and
sweat. Hearing the deafening sound of the chain saw or a wedge being driven
into the back cut of a tree. The blows would start to sound hollow and your
eyes would go to the top of the tree as it shook and begins slowly to tip over
center and finally the crack of the tree's spine breaking and feeling the
ground shake as it bounced once then lay still. It got very quiet and I was
usually on the tree with a small limbing axe walking the length of the tree
before the dust settled. Anyone watching would leave as we began the real
work of limbing cutting the tree and splitting the biscuits.

As kids some of our favorite places were getting our bravery up to enter the
haunted house across the street or playing in the creek near town. During
summer we would build rafts to float on the pond that was upstream and winter
we would put our sleds on the ice and slide thru the culvert pipes under the
road.

Toboggans and sleds were rented around town and we would have little trouble
finding tobogganers to take our favorite course until they packed it down
enough for us to get our sleds to work. Trouble was, they didn't have the
control we did and would always crash. Our favorite was over a mile long and
would start in the National Forest onto a dirt road that would become very icy
where we would have to sling the sled sideways and shoot thru a small gap
between manzanita bushes, through Bluebird and Sunny Slope Cabins, down to the
corner of our property. The fun part of the ride was the gap in the bushes
that would become larger as we would miss the gap. Usually there were at
least three of us and we would be racing, so if there was no time to abort the
turn you not only got to eat a bush you had a sled or two as well as your
friends hitting you from behind. When the snow was to soft on the hill we
would slide down a dirt road and cross Pennsylvania road and crash into
Murray's chain link fence. We relied on a friend at the bottom to spot for
cars so we could crash before hitting the road. When the road was not snow
covered we would cross the asphalt which sharpened our runners.

The names of the buildings in town have all changed but in this story I will
use the names that were there then and, in most cases, the reader will have to
figure out where it was at that time. Also, friend's names are first names
only. To those who were around it will be obvious who I am talking about,
while protecting them from people who might take a memory out of context and
get the wrong idea of their character.

To describe the town I will walk you west on the south side of the street
and describe the buildings that were there at a point in time.

;here

From the corner of our property was a large field that eventually was
leveled off and the safeway and Sprouse Ritz On the edge of the creek sat a
two story house that bordered Stocker road. The short block between Stocker
and Pine Knot Ave. was buildings owned by Harold Hall, including the
restaurant, Motel and a couple of rental offices. One of these was a shoe
repair store where I used to talk to the owner while he glued and nailed new
soles and heels on shoes. We usually talked about fishing but I never saw him
fish. This office later became a flower store whose owner made the orchid for
my first school dance. It was probably the best he probably ever made. I
thought it was ugly but I recently found out it was the best at the dance and
was commented on by all the girls. One the corner was Hall's Coffee Shop,
which would become my first job, starting off as dishwasher and becoming a
cook. Carmen Click was the manager and was very good to me while working me
to death. She had chosen me for her daughter to marry and was disappointed
when it didn't happen. We had an old fashioned soda fountain, which was never
the Hang-out that Norman Rockwell painted. Water was served in a paper cone
that was inserted in a plastic holder. Malts and milkshakes were served in a
glass and came with the malt can. The cigarette machine vended a pack for 25
cents and we had a jukebox full of the popular 45's. There weren't many
restaurants in the valley and weekdays were very slow ,but when the
flatlanders came up on the weekends we were packed most of the day. locals
were not catered to and there were no substitutions.

Harold Hall had started off renting bicycles on the corner during the summer
then moved to Palm Springs during the winter renting them there. He had
turned that into owning property in Big Bear, apartment building in L.A. and
property on Catalina Island. When I met him, he was unable to do much but
kept his wife Martha at a dead run all day long. When we were busy, he would
help by cleaning tables while, according to the servers, he would steal tips.
Their one extravagance was about every three years they would buy a new
Chrysler. When coming up from L.A., he would not drive the freeways. And by
the time he hit running Springs, would know by the traffic how busy the
weekend would be. At an earlier time the area that the back dining room was
the telephone water company offices.

Behind the restaurant on Pine Knot was the union ice company, who supplied
the ice for the valley. There was also a unit out in Bear City at the market.
This was later moved to Sugarloaf to the market there. About 1/4 mile south
on Pine Knot was the sugar shack. It had been called the Wigwam when it was
built but was now a dance hall for the kids in the valley and on Saturday
night the kids danced to the Driftwoods.

Across the street was the Chevron station which was run by Ade Boss. Behind
this was a repair auto repair shop owned by Harold Fulton. Ade had his tire
shop next to the station in a portion of a building that torn down when they
modernized the station. This building was a small bowling alley that had
about 5 or 6 lanes that hired pin boys. They didn't hire me when I applied at
about 11 years old. Never could understand why not. Between this building
and the old Navajo ballroom ran a flood control pipe that had an opening in
most of the buildings along Pine Knot that was used a convenient t way to get
rid of all manner of pollutants from two hardware stores and two dry cleaners.
All these toxins collected down near the lake many years later that was blamed
on the mobil station and a dry cleaner that had never used the chemicals
involved.

The Navajo ballroom was completely furnished until the '60's when it
converted into a modern bowling alley where I spent a lot of time playing pool
and hanging out in front with the guys at night. There was a big two-level
lot covered with concrete which was Hall's Plaza. This was an enormous mall
that Harold Hall built. It was a very modern building that was not built
correctly and came down with the first heavy snow. I sat empty for many years
until it became the site of the current jack in the box.

Next in line was the theater. The ticket booth set in the middle of an
alcove that displayed the coming attractions The entrance led you directly to
a candy counter, either side of which was an inclined dark hall that led past
bathrooms back to curtains that led to the seating. The screen backed up to
the candy counter and the seats ran uphill. On either side of the ticket
booth sat a small business. To the left was a candy store. To the right was
changed quite often. I remember it as a hobby shop. West of the show was a
small road and then The valley's first Safeway store. Besides gas stations
this was the first chain store in the valley. After Safeway moved up the
street across the street from my house it became the palace arcade with its
row of skeeball machines, where you could win coupons to trade for items at
the gift counter. A local man worked making change and handing out the
tickets for many years. Ronnie would also hustle money bowling at the bowling
alley and was very good. Once he wanted to get a Mohawk haircut and his boss
threatened to fire him. He got the haircut and was fired for a couple of
days. Anyone who wanted to work could find a job and once hired was seldom
fired. Ronnie was deeply in love with Ida, but Ida loved Mike and Ronnie
would follow her around like a puppy dog always faithful. I guess today he
would be a stalker but they each got something they needed out of the
situation so it went on for years. Finally, he went to work on Catalina at
another arcade owned by his boss and I haven’t seen him since. I imagine he
is still there. Next was the Cornet store where we bought our caps and cap
guns. Harry Burton, who worked for the school, had all types of novelty items
made from slabs of pine with witty sayings and salt and pepper shakers. All
these items are now highly collectable as is his rustic furniture that was
built cheaply to fill many of the forestry lease and cabins in the area.

Next came the Bakery, remembered for the smell of fresh bread and donuts.
Toten's Photo Store and gift shop was next. This and Pardee's, across the
street, were where you bought film and had it developed. During the '60's
John Ciena opened Village music where Toten's had been selling 45's, albums
and state-of-the-art 4-track tapes. Then a narrow liquor store where you
could buy your Black Jack gum, while trying to catch a glimpse of the girlie
magazines on the rack. Next to this was the Malt shop, which was one of the
local hangouts for adults to get together and tell their lies over a cup of
coffee. The thing I liked most about this place was a small window where you
could buy frosties, which were soft serve cones that could be either
strawberry, chocolate or vanilla. Next Martin's Jewelry Store, the Chief's
Barber Shop and a real estate office. At the end of the actual town was the
Union Gas station. This was one of the most easily recognized buildings in
town and I spent a lot of time there bothering Lloyd and Malcolm, pumping a
little gas, installing, chains and mostly where some of my best adventures
began. Including Mal making a mistake that almost burnt town down, which was
kind of funny because he was just beginning his career as a fireman at the
time. Another time, during a trip up Van Dusen Canyon to pull out a stuck
car, I learned a lesson and swore off hard liquor. Along side the gas station
was a small road that led back to Indian Lodge which were some of the first
cabins built in the valley at the beginning of the 1900's. Many of these
cabins were built by my grandfather after he left his job at the Baldwin mine.
The city, in its wisdom, chose to tear down these historic buildings and put
in a parking lot. The main building would have made a perfect museum and
visitor's center. But they chose to tear down the Paramount lodge and put
another parking lot and visitors center there. This was the end of what we
considered town but it continued as businesses and cabins clear to Boulder
Bay. Three of the first have to be mentioned were Fuller's Lodge, Burger
Haven & George Leak's Shell Station. Burger Haven had the best hamburgers in
town and almost every cute girl from High school worked there at one time or
another. Coming back through town on the north side of the Boulevard across
from the Shell station was Pinewood Lodge. West of this was the Stage Stop,
one of the nicer restaurants in its time. Coming back along the actual
Boulevard, there was a real estate office then a little hole-in-the-wall bar,
that at this point in time was the Beanery, where I bought my first underage
beer. Reedy's market was where most of the locals shopped until the new
Safeway was built. We did our shopping here and would get a bone for our dog
to gnaw on. McNeal's Trading Post was a very nice store where Dan worked
selling everything from tennis shoes to very nice clothes. My very first work
was as a model along with his daughter Adrienne and two other girls for his
back-to-school sale. I don't know if we even got a pair of Levis for this,
but I do have copies of three of the pictures. I was sure a cute kid then.
Something in these pictures are never seen in today's fashion, but were worn
by all the boys back then, and that was cuffs on our Levis. As little kids we
grew so fast that they were bought with about 4 extra inches in the length.
You definitely didn't want to get caught with high-water pants. This was a
sure way of getting called a geek or a spaz, both of which are politically
incorrect today. Nowadays you're just a nerd.

Next to McNeal's was a small gift shop that had a little boardwalk that led
to a place where you could buy the best sno cones in town. The little road
that led north led back to the water company, telephone company office a
building that was Dr. Beach's office at one time and later has usually been a
bar. Beaver cabins were at the end of this road. Pardee's Pharmacy was next
on the Boulevard. The left side of the building was a soda counter, which had
the best malts in town. The check out counter was to the right of the
entrance. Half way down on the right were the comic books, where we could sit
and read them for free, but we would buy our share. All the way in the back
was where you got your prescriptions filled. The high point of this store was
at Christmas when they would have a drawing for a train set, one for boys and
one for girls.

Ray Reynolds Real Estate and Escrow was next, in one of the older original
buildings. There was a small alley then Chad's Bar and immediately beside it
was Chad's Restaurant. This building caused a real problem in town when they
refused to dedicate the setback when they modernized the road in the village
so it sticks out further then all the other buildings. Chad's Restaurant was
our late-night hangout. We lived on "wet shoes," which were french fries,
covered with gravy and drowned in catsup. It was open 24 hours and a great
place for people watching. About 2:00 AM, the bar closed and many of the
regulars would spill in and liven the place up. Reggie would come down from
working his mine in Holcomb when his pension check would come in and he would
usually be dozing in a booth after spending a good share of it next door. The
local Sheriff's Station would punish its prisoners by feeding them on a
contract with Chad's. A deputy would bring in a trustee and pick up the food
to take back to the jail. Our local taxi cab driver would pick up customers
in the bars and would invariably have a drink with them before leaving and by
the end of the night would usually be in worse shape then his riders. His
wife would always be on the phone trying to find him, but nobody ratted him
out. We had some drinkers in the valley that would spend most of their time
in the bar. Some of the most prominent people in the valley among them.
Usually, if locals were stopped by the cops, they would just take them home
and they would pick up their car the next day if they could find it. Passing
Chad's you had to take a little dog leg to the left that brought you to
Beauman's Arcade and Shooting Gallery. You could always find Monte standing
behind the counter of the shooting gallery with a half dozen 22 short rifles
lay facing downrange. You would pay him and he would slide a tube of bullets
into the magazine under the barrel and you could plink away at the rabbits and
ducks that moved back and forth 30 feet away. To the left were a half dozen
skee ball lanes, where for a score of 390, you could win a stuffed animal.
Scattered around alongside and in back were many old style arcade games, a
penny scale, photo booth and a little machine you could stamp your 13 letters
in and get a little aluminum token. Monte knew more history of the valley
then most people and I really enjoyed talking to him and hearing his stories.
From his little perch he saw everything that happened. I don't know of anyone
ever being hurt from his guns even though he was between two bars. From here
to the corner the stores changed often. Some of the more stable were Barney's
Barber Shop (where I got my first store-bought haircut), a cafe, a liquor
store, the Pine Cone Bar and Leroy's Clothing Store. Down Bartlet was
Paramount Lodge that was used for rentals and used to house most of the movie
people who were using Big Bear for location shots for many of the movies that
were made.

Across Bartlet was the Navajo Bar and Restaurant. A couple of small stores,
that changed often, and on the corner was Fred's Sporting Goods. Fred started
out as mostly novelty items and fishing equipment. In the winter, he rented
sleds , toboggans and skis. He also sold guns and licenses. He did so well
that is wasn't long before he expanded, moving down the street and adding
bicycles, and winter clothes and more ski equipment. For years this was where
you bought top-of-the-line in skiing, fishing and shooting equipment.

Turning North on Pine Knot at night you would see darkness. Most of the
sidewalks in the town were rolled up at night but this end of town was dark
except for two stores. During the day the first building you would come to
was another arcade. Run by Dick Schaefer and his wife, they had newer games
and a larger variety then Beaumans. Also they sold cotton candy and sno
cones. This had been an early department store long before my time. Below
the arcade was a narrow opening that we could pass through to Bartlett. The
buildings kept growing closer together until, by the time I was in 7th grade,
I couldn't fit through. Next was a bar, that has gone by many names.
Betterly's hardware was next. This was an old-fashioned hardware store, where
you could buy everything from mouse traps, to paint, to dynamite. Bill
Betterly later became a county supervisor. A lot of the county officials have
come out of Big Bear. Three county Sheriffs came from here, including Gary
Penrod, who began as a deputy in our local office. Below Betterly's there was
a small parking lot then the Swiss Chalet Restaurant, one of the fine dining
restaurants. Next door was a yardage store run by the Englands. The other
half of this building was usually empty. Next was an empty lot that had been
part of a lumberyard and gas station at one time and was Deroque Buick during
the '60's. This was Big Bear's first car dealership, unless you counted the
load of surplus Army Jeeps that Ade Boss had at the Chevron Station for
awhile. For a long time, there was a building that was part of the lumber
yard. About this time it was remodeled and made into Hanna's Liquor Store.
When they outgrew their small store in the Carwood building next door. The
old liquor store became a beauty salon. Columbia Lighting was in the building
about this time, run by the family of Marie's friend "beep." Beep had a Jeep
and we took that thing places my Willys couldn't even get to. Next came the
front door for Western Auto, which was run by Fred and Ruby Butts for many
years. Most of the locals would use the rear entrance as parking was easier.
This was where Santa Claus would come to interrogate the children every year.
He was probably the biggest star I ever met. Below this was a dry cleaner and
above were some apartments. This pretty much was the end of the village until
they built the Frostee Freeze a couple of hundred feet down. Following Pine
Knot down to the stop sign the left was the new Robin Hood. The Highlander
supper club sat on a hill to the West. Further west, across the street, was
Vern Backs' office, who did excavation and several other construction-related
work. Right across from the Robin Hood there was a building that was shared
on the left by the post office and on the right the bank. During the '60's,
the Glide Slide was located between the Post office and the lake. You got a
burlap sack, climbed the stairs and slid down a slide. The Pine Knot Marina
was on the lake with a dock and two trout ponds. In the boat storage
building, Jim Edson had an office, where he operated his ambulance and sold
medical oxygen. He was also a local photographer and took many of the
pictures that were made into post cards around the valley. Across the creek
there were trampolines you could rent time on. We were very easily
entertained in those days. At the end of Knickerbocker road on the lake side
was the Fire Station, Police Station and Court Gouse. When my dad worked
there, they planted a fir tree in the middle of the small lawn. I can
remember when they did it I was taller then it was. Now it is the only thing
left and has been topped because it is now in the power lines. When they
widened the road, they were supposed to underground the utilities and put in
pipes and vaults but never connected it up and when they eventually do it most
of it will have to be replaced. Starting back up Pine Knot on the east side
at the stop sign was the Mobil gas station, run by Fred Cable. There wase a
couple of buildings next that about this time contained a laundry. There was
a building that had been a restaurant, hostel, and would be soon known as the
"Hippie" Hotel. At stone Road there was a smorgasbord that began as a
hardware store. For many years it was Ronardo's Restaurant. A small building
contained a do-it-yourself laundry, that later became the Little Green House.
Later on, the Little Green House moved over to Bonanzam which Dan McNeal had
petitioned the county to change the name of the street he lived on from Gay
Lane. Spencer's Real Estate had a small office and then the Teddy Bear
Restaurant, another local hangout, where the world's problems were discussed
and solved by the locals. The next building I believe was not occupied at
this time but had been a hardware store. Silver Spur was run by Daryl Altumus
and was basically a hobby shop. It had been a western clothing store before
this. The next building was the old Deems Garage, that had been a theater
and was now Dr. Beach's office, where one of the two long time doctors in the
area. This was Big Bear's other drive-in for awhile as they played the movie
on the north side of the building. This was long before my time and I think
Eddie P. is probably the only one around who remembers it. Dr. Godwin had his
office across the street from the fire station at this time, but would soon
move into where the American Legion is now. To the left of the doctor's
office was a small two-chair barber shop that Joe the Barber moved into about
this time. He had moved from just up the street. There was a small alley
that led behind the stores. There was a tin building, that for years was
lived in by the man who owned much of the property in the area. You would
have never known it if you saw him, never driving anything but his old grey
Plymouth. Next was a cheaply-built series of storefronts, which had contained
a small restaurant in the '50's, but about now was a real estate office, Joe's
old barber shop and Glen Bast's TV and radio repair shop. Fred's Sporting
Goods store had recently opened in a new building about this time. Above this
was a building that overhung the sidewalk, which I remember as always being
empty. This is where I got my first serious kiss while sharing a piece of
orange flavored gum. I was so suave. Later that night, playing hide and seek
with her little brother in the field behind her house. He never did find us
and even tried to bribe us with cookies. Next, was another small arcade
managed by Vic Aucoin who was a long time local who is a book all in himself,
as one of Big Bear's most unique people. Vic was probably about the oldest
"kid" in town being at least 20 years older than me. I almost went to jail
for a third time when Mal and I were pulled into one of his schemes that
starting when he basically stole a skip loader. We would go hunting once in
awhile in the Union Ice Co's Dodge pickup, which belonged to Vic's
father-in-law. I also made one of my two rides from the bottom passing lane
to the bottom of the hill with no brakes in this truck. The other was with
Lance. Next, was a building that was usually empty but had been the previous
location of England's Yardage Store. The Brown Bear gift shop finished of
this series of buildings and is one of the longest run businesses in the
village. On the corner was the Richfield gas station which had just been
modernized. Turning left back up Pennsylvania was the old bus depot which
hung out over the creek on stilts and gave us a place to hang out from the
heat and prying eyes. There was a roulette table under the building minus the
wheel, a leftover from Big Bear's gambling days.

Daisey Mae's Coffee Shop was on the other side of the creek and then from
there to the corner were Bailey's Cabins. The Bailey kids went to work for
Minder lumber company as they grew up and were a large part of its success.

That was pretty much town as I remember it. Others may remember things
differently as businesses were always changing, moving around, opening and
closing and burning down.

Town was slow and uncrowded during the week but on weekends it was crowded
with visitors and there was always something happening. During heavy
snowstorms the snow was plowed to the center and piled as high as 8 feet with
holes to allow access to the side streets. Late at night dump trucks were
brought in and snow was hauled down by the lake .

I hate to sound like our fathers, but back when I was young it actually
snowed in Big Bear (but I only had to walk across the street to school and it
was level). One early storm caught the county by surprise with most of the
equipment in the desert and no plows on their trucks. It was common to have a
2-day delay in getting the side roads open, but the state kept the Arctic
Circle and Cushenberry open. Highway 38 was being built at the time to
connect the east end to Barton flats and from there to Mentone. Charley
Harrington operated a grader for the county and would usually plow our street.
On his first pass, he would turn his plow at our driveway to lay the berm
across the street. On his second, he would cut into the yard as far as he
could to clear our driveway. Every Christmas there would be a bottle left
out for him. One year a friend and I strapped on snowshoes and went to town
in three feet of new snow. We were sore for a week from our short trip. My
girlfriend and I were walking to town and I foolishly decided to take a
shortcut through the forest. There was a crust that would support us for most
of the way but then we started breaking through about 2 feet of snow. It took
over an hour to go the last 200 yards. Recently, I was talking to her and she
hadn't realized how serious it was at the time.

Since they changed town I have been waiting to see what would happen if it
snowed like it used to. During my father's time the snow was even heaver and
there were times that they had tunnels into stores and houses. It was not
unusual for the temperature to fall below zero. At night, after the lake
froze, it would crack and you could hear it sing as the crack raced from one
end of the lake to the other. It would freeze so solidly, that before my
time, they tested snow tires on the lake.

During the summer we would spend our time either in the creek or up in the
hills. I am one of the few guys who can remember being able to fly while most
girls never forget. I don't remember when this was but the memory is there.
The closest I can document was there was a spot we could run downhill and jump
off some rocks on a very steep slope and we would be able to fly/fall for
several seconds before we landed in the thick pine needles. We also would
find some large pieces of bark and surf down the slope. For awhile we would
roll rocks down the hill and listen to them bouncing down the hill. It wasn't
long before all the good rocks were at the bottom of the hill, and being to
lazy to drag them back up, we went on to other things.

Every year, just before school started, our mom would take us shopping and
we would get a few shirts and a couple of pairs of levis. Never understood
why a pair of levis was one. The pants would always be about 4 inches too
long and we would have dirt catching cuffs most of the year until we grew into
them. All the guys wore a pair of black Keds tennis shoes, which we would
promptly peel off the white rubber patch on the side. During high school my
mom bought me a pair of red tennis shoes and it took me two years to live that
down. About 6th grade we would bug our parents until they would get us
engineer boots, which while being very uncomfortable, would make a lot of
noise and would slide in the halls and leave black marks, which I'm sure the
custodians loved. It wasn't long before we would add taps to the heels and we
could make even more noise and slide even better.

Hunting was a big deal and my dad would wake me up long before daylight and
it was my job to close the petcocks on the truck while my dad heated water for
the radiator. The heater would not start working until we got almost to Cedar
Lake. We would be up on Skyline Drive before daylight and saw some of the
most beautiful sunrises. If we would go up the Moonridge side there would
usually be deer in the golf course as we drove by. We had some favorite spots
and sometimes my brother and I would be let out to walk through and drive the
deer past my dad. We would get back in time to grab our books and go to
school.

In our time, when a boy out grew his blanket, he got a teddy bear, which was
replaced with cap guns and little green plastic Army men, who were frozen in
poses, with either a bazooka on their shoulder, aiming a rifle with their
officers urging the others forward. Then came wagons, bikes , sling shots, BB
guns and 22's. Somewhere in this time most boys bought a shirt, scarf and hat
and joined the boy scouts. Most never bought the pants but wore levis. A few
years later the re was a GI joe "doll," replacing the Army men and guns. Now
they replaced GI Joe with a Ken doll.

We all had pocket knives from early on and would play mumblte peg at recess.
Nobody ever thought of using them on each other. The only time anyone was
hurt that I remember was when they brought a bunch of dirt into the playground
and we started having dirt clod fights. Someone got a little carried away and
hit Ronnie in the head knocking him out. He missed a few days of school and
was never quite right after that. We were also not allowed to have dirt clod
fights.

For us guns were a part of life and we were taught how to act around them.
When I was old enough to get my license I was pretty good with our 30-30. You
could not drive with a loaded weapon and you could not shoot from the road,
but both laws were pretty much ignored by the locals. The first chance I had
for a deer, I was in the truck bed when I spotted a buck and we stopped and I
fired about the same time. Of course, I missed but with the shot the rest of
the herd jumped up and started running everywhere. My brother and I took off
after some and my dad went the other way, probably to get away from us. I
fired about 12 times and never came close my brother got a forked horn and my
dad survived. Later on, I got a three pointer and I don't think my dad got
one that year. If you see a deer and shoot it's one thing, but if you have to
wait until he clears some trees to make sure he is legal or to clear some
other deer so you wouldn't shoot another too. You would start to get buck
fever and you would shake so bad you were lucky to hit the deer. I was with
my dad the last time he got a chance and had already got my deer but enjoyed
the ride and still had a bear tag in case we ever came across one. My dad had
trouble breathing because of his emphysema and, between that and the buck
fever, he couldn't hit the ground, let alone the deer. After the first shot,
the deer just stood there, not knowing which way to run. He ended up firing
at least 4 times before the deer walked out of sight. My dad never came
close, and I had never seen him miss before. It was the funniest thing I had
ever seen and gave him a hard time about that from then on.

As far as hunting for bears, my dad always got beagles because they were
supposed to be good hunting dogs, but ours would find a squirrel and we
wouldn’t see them until we were done hunting and then had to hunt for our dog.

I never saw a bear until about ten years ago, but did get close once. We
had some real fresh tracks and even steaming droppings (which don't make good
soup). As my dad always did, he split us up and found a good place and used
me as a dog to try and drive the bear his way. I was out alone in the brush
and the stories I loved to read in Outdoor Life and Sports Afield, where Ted
Trueblood (his real name) would drop a charging Grizzly at his feet, began to
run through my feeble mind, and not trusting myself or my 30-30 as much as I
should, I found a rock and sat on it for a half an hour.

One of the things we enjoyed or when friends came up we would bo to load
everyone in the truck just before dark and drive across the ridge to spot
deer. We would easily see over 100 in the drive. Pulling into meadows, there
would be 10 or 12 all the time. In the '60's, the Fish and Game started
selling doe tags and then made mountain lions protected. Now if you see 1 or
2 it was a good trip.

During the day, the public campgrounds were always good for girl watching.
Coldbrook was another little town where people enjoyed Big Bear more from a
tent then today's visitors do from their million dollar vacation homes.
Simplicity is how you enjoy Big Bear and the closing of Coldbrook and Grout
Bay campgrounds have really hurt the valley. Forestry lease cabins were
another example of simplicity. Most were one or at the most two bedrooms, oil
lamps, wood stoves and rustic furniture with oil clothe table coverings and a
privy out back.

There were many more lodges around the valley that had small housekeeping
cabins and people would come up and spend their vacations every year. Some
would have the mother and kids stay the whole summer while the husband worked
down the hill during the week coming up on weekends. Sunny slope, Blue Bird
and Woodland lodge were all located near my home and many of my friends were
these part time residents.

Summers were always crowded and I would meet new friends that stayed in
these cabins. It was easy meeting and becoming friends one on one. When a
third came along there was usually a jockeying for position and more of a
temptation to get into trouble. When you are young there were no lies except
a few that were perpetrated by our parents on an annual basis. It was about
sixth grade before there was a lie in our classroom. One of the prettiest
girls in the class who had gone steady with most of the boys for about a week
at a time claimed to have been to Holland and did a show and tell on it.
Whether it was true or not I don't really know, but somehow it was decided
that it was a lie and everyone turned on her. There was such an overreaction
that one of my friends was expelled from school and the girl and her family
soon moved. Her father was an actor and I think that is why they left. Now
he is a big-time producer. There is a difference between lies and BS, which
is usually very obvious. My dad was good at that with his friends but there
was always enough truth in it that if you didn't see his grin you wouldn
t really know. He gained a reputation as a dead shot when he and some friends
were out in the desert and he shot a rabbit at about 75 yards with his 45.
They wanted him to prove that he could do it again, but he knew enough to quit
while he was ahead. I have shot that 45 and, besides having a hard time
hitting a can at 10 feet, I was lucky if the bullets didn't land behind me.
Shooting was one of the pastimes we enjoyed when we could afford bullets and
usually were safe except for the time Lance shot me in the foot, but it was my
fault and in all fairness he wasn't really trying to hit me. When we lived in
the Big House, I found some ammunition for a very old 45-70 we had. This was
an enormous shell. The gun was old and I didn't trust it, so we propped it up
in the doorway and tied a string to the trigger and fired it a few times
before we tried to hold it. Once I was sure it wouldn't blow up, we set some
cans up near the barn and were shooting them. The slug was so heavy and slow
you could see it throw pine needles as it moved up the hill in the dirt. I
had obtained an old wood boat from the deputy Sheriff, who lived across the
street that I had planned to fix up but never had. One of the slugs had hit
it in the keel and blew a hole about a foot square in the back. That was the
end of my boat.

Christmas vacation were crazy when the college kids came up and rented about
1/2 of Blue Bird and would party the whole week.

Skiing in the valley was Lynn lift, Rebel ridge and Goldmine in Moonridge.
Snow Summit was still mostly a dream. Summit Blvd. Was just a narrow lane
and, about where Carl's Jr. is, was horse rentals.

A right of passage was when you became 15 1/2, you got your learner's
permit. I had already been driving around our driveway, but was then allowed
on the street as long as a parent was with me. My first trip out was to the
dump and the roads were a lot narrower from the left side of the car then from
the right. By the time I was 16, I was ready and got my license. Then my
world grew to include the whole valley and all the back roads. During the
week the roads were pretty empty and in the afternoon it was not uncommon to
drive from the Moodridge cutoff (Garstin) to the Twin Bears (Division),
without seeing another car. Street names were seldom used, but we would
describe places by nicknames or by who lived nearby. Some of the names that
we used are not used anymore were Roller Coaster, Little Arctic Circle, Twin
Oaks , 13 Curves, Dead Man's Corner and Godwins Corner. Once, when talking to
my mom, she didn't know Godwins Corner, but in her time, it was called by the
name of the people who owned the house then. She called Stanfield Cutoff, the
narrows.

In high school guys didn't call each other by first names but switched to
last names. Cars were a big deal, and we all could work on them. Language
was peppered with language like tri-power, dual-quad, and 4:11 rear ends.
Hurst shifters, Coveco steering wheels, and baby moons were necessities.

Turn signals and seat belts were still new. Most of the cars we drove
didn't have them, so we would have to use hand signals. My dad had an old
truck that had a semaphore that was controlled from inside the cab and would
stick out far enough to be seen from the rear.

There were three basic groups of cars. One was mom and dad's, including the
Porsches and 'Vettes that were given to the kids to drive. There were the
late model cars that, usually the kids bought for themselves, which were the
55-57 Fords and Chevies. The rest of us would buy "beaters," which were
usually less then $100 and we would drive until the wheels fell off and then
buy another. The one I liked best was Mike's bathtub Porsche. He let me
drive it once and I couldn't believe how well it handled. Ida's Corvair was
almost as good but had a bad reputation for rollovers. We learned to drive in
the snow by going into the Safeway parking lot and sliding around dodging
light poles. There weren't chain signs yet and we were pretty much left to
decide when they were needed. At Lloyds Union Station, we sold and hung
chains every time it snowed. There was one rack and Malcolm and I would
usually be laying in the snow putting them on. On my cars, I would usually
drive until I got stuck before I would put on chains then take them off as
soon as we got unstuck. Going up and down the hill, I would usually wait
until there was a flatlander who was jacking up his car to put on chains. And
would pull in throw mine over the top of the tires drive forward then hook
them up and be gone before he got one wheel off the ground. When the
Oldsmobile Toranado came out the owners still put the chains on the back even
though they were front wheel drive. That was always good for a laugh, or the
guy who didn't get them on tight enough and they would tear up a fender before
slipping over the tire and wrapping around the axle, taking out the brake
line. I learned a little humility when I had a VW rabbit at work and would
run out and put a chain on when I got a few minutes then do the next one when
I had another minute. I had both on before I realized I had put them on the
back about the time Eddie drove up.

A few years earlier my brother friends were driving T roadsters, Woodies,
and '50 fords. I got my only ride in a rumble seat coming back from
Stillwell's pool one day. They had started being collectable before our time
and had disappeared into garages. A few years later came VWs and muscle cars.
Gas was about 35 cents per gallon and driving was what we did. Every town had
a loop that was made for cruising. Ours was a loop thru the sugar shack
parking lot then down to the stop sign and a left turn and a circle either
thru the Elk's Club parking lot or under the canopy of the union station
where, if Lloyd had forgotten to take in the hose, you could make the bell
ring or do a burn out on the smooth concrete and send the hose flying.

Me, I finally got a hand-me-down '49 Dodge Coupe, which I installed a new
steering wheel and had my hot rod. Later on, I bought a Plymouth convertible
for $50. Then for around $100, a '55 Mercury -- that Mal had rebuilt -- that
actually was quite fast. Even some of the older "kids" had some nice cars.
Stubby usually had something he was working on. John/Tom had a GTO. A
Highway Patrol officer spent his off time rebuilding his VW. I can remember
him popping a wheelie with it in the middle of town. And he had the nerve to
write me two full tickets and a warning citation when he first came to town.
My claim to fame was driving the entire length of town on the sidewalk (south
side), 4WD before it was cool and still politically correct. We also managed
to cram 18 people into a 2 door Dodge and cruised town. We had to leave the
hill to find a traffic light so we could do a Chinese fire drill correctly.
In San Bernardino, E street was where you cruised, which was O.K., but about
9:00 on weekends, the serious cars would show up and every street light became
a drag strip. We never had a serious car so we would usually come back home
to avoid embarrassment. My mom had a '62 Oldsmobile, that was the fastest car
I ever drove. One day we filled the 26-gallon tank (cost over $7.00) and we
started off down the hill around the Arctic Circle. I checked the gauge and
found we had lost almost 1/2 the gas sliding around the corners because I had
left the cap off. One time we went to the beach and I got to racing another
car and got up over 120 mph on the freeway in L.A. Not many people alive can
remember when that was even possible. I even got it up that fast once in Big
Bear but that was harder because it didn't turn that well at speed. In our
Jeep pick-up, I Drove down every ski slope and almost everywhere else. My
favorite thing was to load a car full of friends and drive across skyline at
night flat out. Luckily no one else was doing that until Rick started doing
it 5 years after I quit. We also had another late night game when we would
take shot guns and drive around Baldwin lake and clear out to Arasta Creek
with one or two guys on the front fenders trying to shoot rabbits. Cars back
then had bumpers you could stand on and hoods that would support you and as
long as the car didn't stop too quickly. It wasn't as dangerous as it sounds
-- especially for the rabbits. I used to think it was a memory of our
ancestors riding to the hounds but since none of ever were English it was
probably more like our Indian ancestors shooting buffalo from horseback. But
if had depended on this for food we would have been some mighty skinny
Indians. We weren't very good at this and eventually would try to catch a
rabbit in the head lights and then the driver would turn off the headlights
and we would jump off the hood a try to catch him while he was still blind.
This didn't work too well, as our plans had not taken into consideration that
we would be blind too. I finally managed to grab one by his ears but I think
he was sick and Mike shot him with an arrow and we propped him up on a bench
in front of the Post Office with a whiskey bottle under his arm. (It seemed
funny at the time.)

High school was a terrible place for most kids between all the hormones and
trying to find a group in which you could belong it is doubtful if anybody
came out without needing some couch time with a shrink. Most of us are still
bothered by some casual remark or perceived snub that is completely forgotten
by everyone else.

Football was a big thing in the valley and was supported by the businesses.
The high point of this season was the Homecoming game. Down at Meadow Park,
the freshmen would pile scrap wood donated by builders and lumber companies.
All the kids would show up at night and there would be a rally with
cheerleaders and a speech by the coach. Then the bonfire would be lit. They
made a mistake the year the science teacher was the adviser and he planned the
stacking of the wood to provide the maximum effect. It was an enormous fire
and from then on it was limited as to how much wood could be used. I would
guess that today there is no bonfire at all. There was never enough parking
and the roads on either side of the school were lined on both sides of the
street were lined with cars as well as up and down the highway for a half a
mile. If Big Bear won there would be a line of cars going through town,
honking their horns.

We were actually good kids, but had little to do and when we got together.
We came up with some strange ideas on how to entertain ourselves. We had some
really bad kids in town who would break into cabins and cause serious trouble,
but we never hung around with them. We were pretty isolated from drugs, but
beer was not that hard to get and we would drink on occasions, which would
usually be in cars. I was extremely lucky that I survived that without
serious incidents. Our graduating class of 1965 was probably the last to make
it without a serious drug problem. Within two or three years, drugs became a
serious problem with even an overdose death of a high school girl. Beer was
our drug of choice which was bad enough and cigarettes were another necessity
for those of us who wanted to be "cool". I fell for both, but was never to
pull off the pack-rolled-up-in-the-sleeve look, so I switched to a little
cigar called Between the Acts, that was probably influenced by Clint Eastwood
westerns. It got so bad that I would have to smoke a newport or salem in the
morning so the menthol would open up my lungs enough to breath. But I was
sure cool the night before.

I have done some really stupid things during my life and am extremely
grateful that I didn't hurt anyone doing them. With age comes wisdom and
quite often I will remember something and can't believe I was dumb enough to
do it.

On date nights, we had two drive-ins in the valley so that we would load a
trunk full and save some money, 1 walk in, and on weekends, the Sugar Shack.
Afterwards, you could go watch the submarine races or go up to the malt shop.
The lake Drive-in, out in Metcalf Bay is easy to spot, as almost everything is
still there but, the Peter Pan is all gone. You got into it off of Greenway,
across the street from where the park entrance is now. The screen was about
there and the snack shop was in the middle of the airstrip. The airport ended
about where the current terminal is now and the sheds across the landing strip
were the terminal. Airplanes, at one time, landed across the creek from
Southwest Gas and would park near the highway. I know of at least one that
landed and took off from the Moonridge straight-away. They were going to
build a town there and widened the road before finding the water table was to
high to build. Since then flood control work and the many years of
semi-drought have allowed the building that was planned 50 years ago.

Driving up the front grade, which was called City Creek by the old timers,
used to be more of an ordeal then today and there were more turnouts. with, if
I remember correctly, 8 spots to stop and get water for radiators. I don't
think most people will remember where more than 4 were. The one at Twin Oaks
on the Arctic Circle had the second best tasting water on the hill. The
fountains were made out of rock mortared to make a tapering square base about
3 1/2 feet high with a fountain on top and a faucet near the bottom for
filling jugs. The water was supplied by nearby springs and fed into a tank
above the road. The entire stretch between the dam an

Re: Knick 1947- 2018/R I P Dennis
BSF, Mon Jun 29 2020, 09:01PM

Denis my friend, I was just looking thru some of the old post an ran onto this one, sorry you were not able to finish it. An many more. As I read your words I couldn’t help remembering our many hours of phone conversations about the past, things we did in our youth an lived thru them. You during your time an me several yrs ahead of you. Can’t help remembering your mom getting after your dad when he an I would hang out together prospecting an just traveling thru the back country enjoying driving thru the mountains, she was so sure that I would get him in some sort of mischief. It was funny after she went to work for the Colton PD she finally figured out that Nick an I were just pulling her chain an we finally became good friends. Then years later after you got married an moved in down the street from me an we became friends. You an your family left me with years of great memories. Thanks my friend, see you down the road. Eddie

Re: Knick 1947- 2018/R I P Dennis
Socalman, Tue Jun 30 2020, 08:46AM

I always enjoyed Dennis' posts. He and Tom Core seemed to have so much knowledge of the past of Big Bear. Though my residence was not in BB, except during the summers of the late 50's, early 60's when we would stay for weeks, then go dth to do a few things, only to return after a few days, I never met him that I recall. Across from our place in BBC was a family that had several kids around my age and I often ran around a bit with them. Who knows? RIP

Re: Knick 1947- 2018/R I P Dennis
Around The Lake, Sat Jul 04 2020, 08:56AM

Thank you for reposting dennis’s (Bill‘s grandson ) thoughts. He always talked about the valley history and his love of “Red Heads”