MY BUDDY DAVE
My old college buddy Dave was 81 yesterday. Dave was from Mount Vernon, New York . Mount Vernon was a fairly large suburb of New York City just north of the Bronx. His family was well known in the area since his dad was the chief of police. By being the son of the top cop Dave was very well versed in legalese and police procedure. He was also very familiar with the ins and outs of the laws of the land. Unquestionably an asset for a college guy.
I first met Dave at Murray State College in Murray, Kentucky. At the time Murray was a quaint little college in the middle of nowhere located in the Southwest tip of Kentucky about 60 miles from Paducah, roughly 30 miles from Paris, Tennessee, a couple of miles from the Tennessee border and not very far from Kentucky Lake, a beautiful body of water created by the Tennessee Valley Authority years earlier.
Murray was a small Land Grant college comprised of close to 5,000 students mostly from local counties within a 100 mile radius although their was an unusual and significant representation of students from the northeast. It was a weekend college. There were several students at Murray from my high school mostly from grades ahead of mine. It was known for collecting low academic and financially challenged kids. You did not have to be a genius to attend Murray. It was one of those colleges that would notify you of admission with a post card. As an example I was granted admission after being held back my senior year due to disciplinary and academic reasons. Today, Murray is a fine high quality medium sized university. It has international acclaim and is well know for it’s athletic program. I would have never gained entry today.
Dave’s roommate graduated 2 years ahead of me from Asbury Park High School and was a close football friend of mine. In high school he played quarterback but didn’t make the cut at Murray. Dave came to Murray by way of Holy Cross. Also a football casualty. It didn’t take long for me to find all the drinkers, poker player, pool shooters, womanizers, and hell raisers on campus. Most were from the north and several from my home town. I felt right at home and naturally made my way to the inner circle. It didn’t take me long to be put on social probation and to be a frequent visitor at Dean’s office. Hell raising was my middle name. My group could have been identified as Murray’s version of Animal House’s Delta Chi Fraternity although we were known as the Cheeks.
Among our group of miscreants was a guy named Hunter from Chicago. Hunter was older than the rest of us and we didn’t know much about him except Murray was his fourth attempt at college. Hunter was a fashion plate and the most collegiate looking guy around. Could have been a cast member in the picture “Where The Boys Are”. He was very cool and clean cut and the leader of many of our escapades. An exceptionally creative guy. Planned all night poker games (always received a cut), parties of debauchery, bootlegging, road trips, and runs to the beer joints and sleazy bars in Hazel and Fulton Tennessee. Just a jack of all trades.
One day Hunter came up with a big one. He spread the word there was going to be a tremendous party on his uncle’s houseboat located on Kentucky Lake.
We had two or three days to plan the affair. Hunter meticulously chose the invitees both male and female. A couple of guys drove to Paducah on a whiskey run. Some of the girls were sent on trips to the super market. The excitement built to a crescendo. The day finally arrived and a caravan of cars headed off campus in the direction of Kentucky Lake. When we arrived at the landing Hunter was their to host us all. There was a house boat moored about 75 yards off sure and three rowboats waiting at the landing. Hunter gathered about 35 guests for the affair. The rowboats were filling up with supplies and people and it became evident the boats would be making several trip.
Not wanting to wait our turn me and my roommate Tony, also from my high school, already in bathing suits, decided to race to the house boat so we dove in and swam to it.
Slowly the 65 ft boat started to fill. Tony and I started drinking perhaps a little to early and perhaps a bit too much. Finally the boat was full of partying college students. Hunter was circulating attempting to solicit funds to cover his expense in bringing the party together.
Tony and I came up with what appeared to be a super idea. Since there were three rowboats and a dingy tied to the railing we thought we would go for a little excursion. We we both smashed. We took one of the boats and Tony rowed to a nearby cabin cruiser and we climbed on board.
We found a cubby that held two half full bottles of booze and took a few swigs. It was then we noticed a set of keys in the cubby. Yup the next thought was to take the boat for a spin. Tony took the helm because he had some idea how to operate a boat. I was totally in the blind. I thought it was a super idea and I encouraged him.
I removed the line to the mooring or the anchor. Off we went weaving our way through the parked boats with rowboat in tow heading out to open seas when we heard the sounds of sirens and a bull horn telling us to stop. There were three police boats surround us with cops standing on the decks with shotguns. We were in trouble and deep water. One boat came along side and a couple of guys climbed aboard and handcuffed us. One of them took the helm and drove us to the landing dock. On the way we saw even more police boats at Hunter’s uncle’s houseboat removing people. We were put in a large station wagon and taken to the Benton County Police station another car arrived with Hunter in the back set. He was hand cuffed too.
We sat in the waiting room for a couple of hours when a legal eagle showed up to question us. By that time we were all very sober. First we told the lawyer we were college guys from Murray and we were attending a party on Hunter’s uncle’s house boat. At first things were pretty serious but then things lightened up. It became pretty funny when it turned out Hunter didn’t have and uncle who owned a houseboat on Kentucky Lake. As a matter of fact Hunter didn’t even have an uncle. Boy, Hunter was great. My hero.
We were placed in jail in the basement of the Benton Firehouse. There we were behind real bars like you would see in the old cowboy movies. The jailer was an rickety old man with a slight limp. We only had our bathing suits so we’re given sweat outfits and under shorts along with some bedding and pillows. We were permitted one phone call, between us. Tony made the call.
The next day Dave showed up at the jail carrying a large brief case. He was dressed in a suit and wearing glasses. He looked like he was going to a prom. He told the jailer he was our lawyer and representative so the old man let him in without even frisking him. All that time growing up in a legal environment. Oh no, here we go, life imprisonment for sure. Dave opened the case and there it was. A case loaded with comic books, girly books, chewing gum, candy bars, and cigarettes. Nice. All we needed.
The next day Dave showed up again but this time with another Cheek member Jimmy from Chicago. It was hilarious. We were carrying on so much that the jailer threatened to go upstairs and get some fireman to settle us down. Oh shit we were doomed.
That afternoon the Dean showed up and had us released from what certainly would have been a lifetime of imprisonment. We were taken in a pick up truck back to college.
Early the next day we were all placed on social probation. Had it not been for Dave we would have starved to death. Thank God for Dave. I know he would do it again if he had the chance. A real solid citizen that Dave is.
