Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door- Chapter 63

Mama, take this badge off of me. I can’t use it anymore. It’s gettin’ dark, too dark to see. I feel I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door…

Maureen’s story

I’ve been taking a different, more clear cut route out of MGM these days. It cuts straight to my apartment. I climb up the pointed metal studio gate and onto a steel balance beam, then while leaning against a tree, I reach for a no-parking sign on the other side, just for balance. Once I have a good grip of the sign, I spin around like a whirling dervish until my tennis shoes touch down on the public sidewalk below.

Today, out of the corner of my eye, I notice an unfamiliar guard watching me as I exit. Well… I think, better here, than our more widely used trade routes. Less at stake. Anyway, I’m no threat… I’m just a girl, by myself… kinda like an ally cat, quietly prowling around and hopping over walls… no problem.

The next time I do this, he is there again… guarding some movie set at the old rail terminal. I was trying to avoid all the construction activity when I realized I was being watched… again. I do not know this officer but he kindly waves at me to come over… It could be a trick, so I ponder my options.

Flight instinct naturally takes over; it’s ingrained in the DNA of all regular trespassers. But as I change direction, he continues to wave me over… So, I slowly walk towards him, all the while ready to run. Just like an ally cat!

He teases me with “you know they will be filming here on Thursday. I’ll look the other way if you want to drop in.

“Thanks for the tip… I will!”

“What’s the show called?” I smile innocently.

“Capone” he replies.

“Is there someplace special on the lot you wanted to see?” he asks. While I puzzle over whether or not he can be trusted, he eliminates my doubts real quick: “I can even give you a tour!” But, before I can answer, he surprises me with this golden nugget: “I know you live across the street and I’ve seen you here before… with that Donnie guy, who the studio wants to keep out of here, at all costs.”

Gee, that’s a lot of stuff… But I don’t want to forfeit the offer on the table, so I answer before he has a chance to change his mind… “Well, everywhere!”

I want to make sure to seal the deal, so I whip up a location that I know is close to this train set.: “I especially like Esther William’s swimming pool.”

“Well then, let’s go!” he offers.

“Right Now?… is it OK?” I ask.

“Right now!” he repeats.

I hesitate… “But… what if someone sees me? you might get in trouble.”

He says, “Wear this. Now you belong.”

I can’t believe my eyes when he hands me his badge… He’s like a cool uncle.

I think of Bob Dylan’s Song as Al shares his tools with me…

I feel powerful. I’m MGM police. I’m riding in a jeep, shot gun. A woman with a badge. MGM does not have any women on the force… but now they do!

I feel like I’m starring in the Rat Patrol, as my hair blows freely in the wind. I assume an authoritative attitude. My partner and I will handle any of the hooligans that come along.

Tagging buildings… not on my watch!

Esther’s pool needs some service, I think to myself. Donnie and I skateboarded the bottom of the deep end just recently… Plus, he and his dad clean pools.

We come to a stop alongside this iconic pool set. I envision myself doing laps with Fernando Lamas…

I’m reminded of when Donnie and I rode around with Big Ron last year. Ron passed around his gun. We all had a real good time. Al doesn’t wear a side arm, I notice… That’s his name, “Al.” We’re on a first name basis now.

That memory seems so long ago, but now, I’m on my own… Ha! If he could see me now in the Bronco, wearing a badge! I’d so love to catch him. I relish the idea of the student passing up the teacher. I was his little “grass hopper,” and now I’m in charge of security! Well, for tonight, anyway. I bet I could catch him in a foot race, or yank him off the fence, at least! I’m invincible.

Look at me, you silly boy, I got a Badge!

Al finally delivers me back to where the evening began, at the fence across from my apartment. I climb to the top, pivot around, and wave goodbye, as I jump back through the invisible gateway, into reality. Now I have a new cool pal to hang with whenever I see him at MGM, from my bedroom window. Heaven is just a pirouette away.

Written and lived by Maureen Miller
Edited by DQ


The Break Up – Chapter 62

My intentions lately have been leaning in a different direction; I now find myself thinking about my teacher all day long. I guess I have a teacher crush. I never had one of these at St. Augustine’s… TRUST ME.

With Ms Debby in my head so much, I think less about Maureen, partially because I’m sure she is getting buttered up by Jimmy. But also because Ms Debby, my English teacher, is becoming my new best friend. I daydream of her when I am not daydreaming of MGM. I share my exploits and pictures with her during nutrition break… like a Peacock showing off his ploom of feathers.

I’m not sure why, but I’m purposly trying to avoid Maureen in the school hallways and on the walk to and from school. I even take a different street sometimes. I’m not sure what to say to her but something will probably come to me whenever that moment strikes.

Dong Dong Dong… the school bell rings 3 times to signal the end of the day. I walk fast, almost running, so as to miss everyone, including her. But, as fate would have it, our paths intersect. I’m ten houses from my home, but it might as well be a mile. We practically bump into each other: “Hey, how ’bout jumping the fence today? I don’t have any homework!” she asks.

“Sure let’s Go!”… Well that was easy, I think to myself, as I awkwardly stumble. to buy some extra time.

The sky is turning black and the radio says that rain is on the way. In case you were wondering, I always have an AM/FM radio for ball games and rock and roll. I’m wearing the Led Zeppelin III cover stenciled on my sweatshirt. Plant and Page have long wild hair, pictured on my back.

Rather than go home, we hang a right towards Lot 2. Just as we get to the fence where the train tracks enter Lot 2, the rain starts to come down. Maureen climbs first as the gentlemen in me offers her a boost. Quickly, we are both inside and take cover in a pullman train. The same compartment Warren Beatty and Jack Nicolson were sitting in just a few months ago. We sit across from each other in old weathered, reclining train seats. We are dripping all over them. A white ruffled curtain frames the rusty old train window to our side. I peel it back to get a blurry look at the monsoon outside.

The rain makes a deafening sound atop the metal train roof as I try to pull the window shut. We can hear each other now and she asks me a question that I was not expecting. “There are rumors going around school about you and Debby.” She stares deep with her penetrating blue eyes as I pull my long wet hair backwards. I pretend to be fascinated with the wild jets of water which are now freewheeling across our little rusty window.

I muster a response: “Like what?”

She elaborates, “You stay after school together and have been seen at lunchtime and nutrition hanging out. It’s the buzz around campus!”…she says with a sour smile.

“Who wants to hang out with a bunch of silly kids?” I finally vent a thought. “She is a teacher and I sometimes need to make up assignments that I miss while hanging out at the studios… is all.” I pat myself on the shoulder. She looks at me a bit confused, as I turn the table on her, “So, what about you and Jimmy?… Must be nice to listen to music and go to the drive-in theater in a car, instead of a bicycle?”

I continue before she has a chance to respond, “How was Young Frankenstein? Jimmy said you went together!”

I feign patience as I listen to her lame response, but my jittery foot, which is tapping against the foot of the chair, gives me away. I interrupt, “We both watched it being filmed, right here, right outside this train window, together, me and you… Gene Wilder kissed Madelin Kahn a farewell, right here! I point for emphasis, at the sentimental spot. “We were here for everything. We were here for The Fortune, we were here for The Apes—they ran down this isle, right here. We talked to Roddy Mcdowell over there.” At this point, my hand gestures have become grandiose. I squeeze out my concluding statement, “all this… just in the last few months.”

I suppose I was trying to make her see that there’s a suitable protocol here, and doggone it I’ve put in my time, I made the effort, I did all the right things… It’s a bit like a studio investing in an actor, and making sure he’s taken care of and happy and part of the crew… and then he goes with another studio! She can’t go with somebody else! Especially not Jimmy!

I continued presenting my case, “We even have our own two story caretaker house with working utilities that we can kick back in, anytime we feel like it, and I was going to surprise you with a TV.” And just to make sure she knows what she’s missing out on, I add, “with two rabbit ear antennas attached.” I continue, “to watch the Twilight Zone reruns, right here on the lot… no other kids at school have that!” I point toward the lot to substantiate my evidence.

“What more can I do for you?” I repeat! Then, loaded with passion, I say, “you get to see movies before they even make it to the theater,” as I spread my arms wide. I conclude my presentation with a flabbergasted expression.

The train window is a bit ajar. Water drips and pools around us. The lot seems quiet except for us!

She responds…

“Jimmy and I walk sometimes, and he asked if he can take pictures of me for photography class; I think I’m going to say, ‘Yes!’ Young Frankenstien was great,” she continues, oblivious to my anxiety that is ramping up. “Jimmy invited me and heck, I wanted to see it, so.”

“I saw it, too, from up in a Euclyptus tree, with the speakers on full blast!” I’m clearly frustrated. “Now I know how Butch Cassidy feels, about Catharine Ross with Sundance Kid.” I look out the train window, as water pours off its curved roof like a waterfall cascading down. It’s like we’re arguing in a wet closet.

“Let’s go, it’s getting cold,” she states, so we exit the train and the platform. Large lake size puddles have turned these old railroad tracks into a big, muddy swamp land. I try to walk the steel rails while attempting to avoid getting my shoes full of water. Maureen walks behind me, as I realize there is mud mixed with the water that I can feel dripping down my neck. It feels like sea slugs are squirming down my back and into my shirt.

I turn back to see her playful smile with an evil look attached. I unsuccessfully try to duck under a handful of fresh sod. She wants to rumble.

The party’s on… instant karma.

I put a handful of mud right up against her nose. It sticks to her face in clumps, while the rest of it slides down her neck. She’s not so pretty anymore. I show no mercy, nor does she, as I use both my hands to one up her. She fights me off. Sexual frustration, anger, I’m not sure, but after looking at each other’s deteriorated state, we begin to laugh uncontrolably.

She shouts “Truce.” I comply.

We make our way out… shivering and looking like we just played tackle football. We can see her apartment, which overlooks this rumble. When we arrive at the entrance, she asks to be hosed off, before heading upstairs… It’s the least I can do, since I helped make this mess. After a high pressure nozzle blast, her pretty face reemerges.

She says “enough” but I pretend not to hear her as I enjoy hosing her… I do.

I finally stop, as I pull her wet hair back and kiss her one last time next to her laundry room. While walking home, just a short distance away, I stop and look back, thinking…

Who just broke up with who?

She has a crush on Jimmy, while I have a crush on a teacher… I feel like an adult who’s right on schedule to graduate, Jr High.

Written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

Bad Night in Beauville-Chapter 61

I’m hanging out more with my pals Joey and Brian and much less with Jimmy. Joey and I are Geminis… two days apart. Brian is over two years older than us and just enlisted in the Marines. He is one big tuff dude and I’m glad to call him a good buddy of mine. You can never have too many big friends, especially big friends that are also older.

Jimmy on the other hand, seems to have caught Maureen’s fancy. His shiny new plastic Driver’s License, to go along with his shiny new VW square-back seems to have created an  attraction between the two of them. So, now he’s got a shiny new girlfriend, as well. Doesn’t matter, I’m loaded with regular old friends. Plus, I’ve got this movie studio thing that keeps me awfully busy.

Tonight Joey and I are going into Lot 2 just to hang out and bond, if you will. There is no filming going on. Just us, Bob Coleman and a dark, and hopefully, quiet night. We know Bob is on duty because we see his car parked behind the West Gate, across the street on lot 1, which is closed.

But, we can outfox him any day of the week. Especially tonight… the day after Thanksgiving. He’ll be so loaded up with Turkey he won’t want to run.

It’s still the holiday weekend at the movie studios. They normally take four days off for this holiday. That is, except security. They get paid a premium just to baby sit this lot, both yesterday and today. Easy money… probably on most studio lots. But this lot gets visitors, or “trespassers,” as the studio likes to call them.

We have a bit of a system around which set gets to be our chosen hang out spot on any given day. Sometimes the deciding factor is whatever rerun we have just watched on television. But other times, circumstances concerning safety dictate where our hide out will be. Every day studio life presents unique challenges that we have to work out.

Tonight Joey and I decide to hang out in the courthouse, right in the center of of this backlot. We call it “Beauville,” since that’s what’s on the signs that mark this spot. That was the ficticious town from the recently canceled TV series, Hawkins, which featured Jimmy Stewart.

We run from village to village, doorway to doorway, knowing full well that trigger-happy Bob Coleman is on patrol. This adds electricity to an otherwise dull night. A long distance run around tonight…


This is the view from the roof in daylight, night time is almost pitch black…I have a fort upstairs in that building across the way-Boystown.


We run into the courthouse from behind this old building, keeping ourselves stealthy in the very dark backlot. My favorite show that uses this set is Air Raid Wardens, with Laurel and Hardy and a cute little dog. Most recently, before the Hawkins TV series, James Garner filmed here—his office still has a wall up! That feature is titled “They Only Kill Their Masters.”

Joey and I climb up to the second floor just as we hear… then see… the Bronco. Which is also moving stealthily. No headlights. Just a slow, quiet roll. He thinks he’s being sneaky, but we’re one step ahead. Nonetheless, this is a harbinger of things to come…

Knowing we’re ahead of the game, we don’t think too much of it, until he circles this village, then decides to stop at the front door of this courthouse. What a buzz kill! Why’d ya have to choose this spot? 

We quickly kill our doobie. We try to wave away the smoke, when Bob exits his vehicle and walks right through our front door. Not good. The roof is our only alternative. And a rickety old ladder is the only way up. We climb this thing like a couple of spiders, scaling a wall without making a sound. I quickly glance down and see Bob standing just inside the doorway, right below us. He does not know we are here, or so we think.

Lucky for us… we successfully reposition ourselves. And we’ve got to keep from making a sound because Bob is now standing in the exact same spot we just vacated, silently staring out a window. The only sounds we hear are those of MGM’s two owls. They seem disturbed also.

Joey and I lay face to face, on this old decrepid rooftop, lit only by moonlight that reflects off of Joey’s glasses. This face to face moment is a common hiding position for Jimmy and I, but tonight Joey is being battle-tested. We must continue to be as quiet and still as can be. We scarcely breathe. Joey keeps his composure impressively, while we watch Bob’s dark image below us through cracks in the roof.

We’re safe… let’s just wait this out. We mouth our words to each other, adding silent gestures for emphasis. Finally, Bob goes back to his Jeep. We decide that’s about enough fun for the night and make our exit.

We climb out behind Maple Street and cross over to Vet’s park to chill out and reflect on tonight’s adventures. With a sigh of relief, we lay on the Roundabout and light up what’s left of the doobie. Joey begins to move the Roundabout in a slow circle by pushing against the sand with his foot. We congratulate ourselves on our brilliant climb, when we hear a group of older kids approaching from the distance.

They go straight to the Rocket Ship. Ironically, a better rocket exists right across the street in the giant prop storehouse that towers above this park!

We chat and quickly find out that these guys were chased out of MGM just earlier tonight. “Oh… we messed with Bronco Bob tonight… we got him good!” …they say, as Joey and I listen attentively.

They’re eager to share their triumph: “We hid in the commissary, as the Bronco arrived at the main gate, but he didn’t see us… Bob exited the Bronco, and then the lot, pulling the gate shut behind him before locking it… Then he crossed Overland and repeated the same procedure on Lot 1, opening and closing the big gate on that side, as we watched him.”

(This procedure is like the opening credits in Get Smart where all the doors slam shut.)

The one with the Rush concert t-shirt spoke for the group, pointing toward the lot, as he proudly continued to narrate the details of their big escape: “Once he locked the gate on the Lot 1 side, we pissed him off big time! We came out of the commisary and jumped on top of the Bronco while taunting him, Come back!… Come back! We’re over here, you big dummy!” Then they all roared with laughter.

It seems that by the time Bob fumbled through the procedure again, trying to unlock the same gate that he had just locked, these guys were long gone. Poor old Bob… not a good night tonight! He’s probably crying over his pumpkin pie, as we speak.

“You’re lucky he didn’t shoot you,” I respond… “he woulda shot me!” We’re too relaxed to share our story at this moment, so we laugh along with the Rush guys… it’s one big victory for us all.


Written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

The Shelter – Chapter 60



The Twilight Zone—
Whenever I’m home “sick,” I watch reruns of the Twilight Zone, which air at Noon on channel 11. Dad is at work, so it’s just me and Mom. Thank goodness she doesn’t watch soap operas. I have the TV to myself! I sprawl out on the golden shag carpet with two cans of Snack Pack Chocolate Pudding and get ready to travel beyond space-time, and into a different world.


After five minutes of commercials, I hear those ominous four notes, which open the entryway into a mysterious new dimension… a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to mana dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity.

Above: NOT those ominous four notes that we all hear in our heads when we think of the Twilight Zone! This is the original theme song by Bernard Herrmann, which was done away with after only one season, in preference of Marius Constant’s “stock library notes” (not to mention the “stock library royalty free cost”), which were spliced together to create the iconic theme riff we all know.

Above: The theme we all know…

Glory Days—

Each episode is like a postcard from MGM’S celebrated past. TV didn’t even exist in MGM’s glory days. But now, in shows like The Twilight Zone, it’s all there… various and sundry, lavish furnishings; a crystal chandelier hanging over a long dining table; random items in a police station, a lamp on a desk; a typewriter in a Dr’s office; a chair in someone’s bedroom; an arched doorway… Because… the backlot is the real star! And although those opulent musicals have been laid down to rest, television is the new frontier and if you have a good eye, you can spot remnants of those old glory days.

MGM’s first ever TV show was the MGM Parade, which started after a fall out with 20th Century Fox over the Ed Sullivan show and went on to serve as a promotional vehicle for MGM’s movies.

When legal snags developed, MGM bought 25% of KTTV. That’s when TV production truly began. This was circa 1957. TV was still in its infancy. You were lucky to have one in your own home. If you did, I’m sure you have memories of being on top of your house, pointing your antenna in the best direction for optimal signal.

I remember my dad sending me up to the roof, while he yelled out commands, pointing with wild arms from the window below: A bit more THAT way… And it was like magic when the images finally showed up clearly on the screen.

Dr. Kildare and Andy Hardy Mysteries were the first series to get off the ground, but soon after, MGM had another dozen Made for TV productions coming down the pike.

On October 2nd, 1959… The Twilight Zone aired its first episode, shot at Universal, starring Earl Holliman. It was the only episode ever shot on the Universal Backlot.

The Combat TV series competed for backlot space and both series forever changed this lot. Or, in the case of Combat, blew it up!

The Twilight Zone made the backlot spooky… along with the Outer Limits, who were trying to take control of my TV set!


Above: No one takes control of my TV!

A Merry Gang—

Both of these series are my favorites, so whenever we watch episodes, we recreate everything we just saw, exactly where it happened. Today features “The Shelter,” so, dutifully, me and Pat and Jimmy will go re-enact that episode.

We climb in at our closest portal, the train station, and in no time we are on Maple Street, named after another Twilight Zone episode. Our focus today is The House with a Shelter…

We are a band of merry young men as we go marching and laughing down the utility road that parallels the railroad tracks on the other side of the studio fence.

Jimmy begins mimicking the line from this episode… why are your kids more important? Pat and I bust up, as Jimmy repeats it over and over in different tones as we walk down the brick pathway. We walk under a sycamore tree and then make our way up to the same front porch that the neighborhood mob forced its way through, on the facade of this cape cod style home.

Open the handle and what do you see…

Paper thin sheets of balsa wood serving as a wall and a lone patch of carpet laying on the floor gives the illusion of a comfortable home. Just throw up a family portrait, put a drink in your hand and some music on the stereo, and answer the door with a smile.

It’s the basic entryway to every house on this street. Dusty old drapes sit on either side of every front door. But grip jacks lean against the wall. Once you’re on the other side of this deceptive wall, you’ve made your exit. We take the outside stairway up to the second floor while reading lines from this episode… You foreigners are all alike!

We all take turns repeating it as we make our way to the top of the stairs and to the balcony.

The sycamore provides a lovely shade. We are safely hidden and being close to the fence, it’s an easy exit. You see, part of our mission is to take a quick survey of possible escape tactics since… we are smoking dope! We continue reciting lines as we laugh out smoke, knowing that a simple escape route has presented itself, if necessary.









What Is Real?—

We gaze down toward the street that is similar to where I live. But, come to think of it… I mostly live here, at MGM. I just go to my real home to eat and sleep. Ironically, the studio feels more real for me than what most people would consider real. While some people watch TV shows to be entertained and to escape from reality, my reality is living in this studio that you’re watching on your TV.

I like the reality inside the fenced-in studio world; it’s not “make believe” when you can see it, touch it, and smell it. Outside the studio fence is where the harsh realties of life take place, but not inside. The only reminder inside the studio that there’s evil in the world, is when the Red Bronco is on my tail.

This place is an escape, or a Shelter, if you will.

The church and its steeple look down on us as we exit The Shelter… now we walk through the front door of this studio parish. We see what the actors saw, as they swung open the front doors in the Twilight Zone episode… Stop Over in a Quiet Town. A ladder stretches to the top of the steeple, over 30 feet high. No platforms. Just a straight up climb, like a fireman would do.

We take our act over to the giant prop warehouse that is behind this church. Without having to say a word to each other, Jimmy and I trample over a maze of strange gadgets like a couple of tanks… our eyes lock onto the object of our desire: it seems to be a dusty old space capsule! It is cone shaped with a bunch of levers and knobs inside.

Meanwhile, Pat climbs on top a headless dinosaur and pretends to ride it. Jimmy and I take off… back into the fifth dimension… the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition… Just another fun day playing with extra big toys.

An ocean liner looks down on us as we walk up the gang plank… once inside, you realize it is just a wall. A ship it’s not; it has no backside and sits in a tiny, empty basin that can be filled with water to help make it appear as something it is not… we are in the business of illusions.

One big magic show, you gotta believe is all!

This is how I play almost everyday, then I go home and watch all this stuff on TV.

Written and lived by Donnie Norden…
Edited by DQ

Hooky-day in Mayberry…Chapter 59


Today I’m ditching school. This was decided last night. My mom will write me an excuse, since my grades are above average. My catholic school prepared me well. So, I get cocky and begin to treat this whole public school thing like a country club. I can auto-pilot this stuff. At Noon, my Dodgers play the Pirates in a playoff game, right here at home. This all-day school schedule is just too cumbersome.

Dodger Stadium is downtown and I don’t have a ride. Heck, I don’t even have tickets! And it’s not on T.V. But, I love Vin Scully, so, the radio will be my ditching pal today. My parents don’t know it yet, but my day will be spent at Desilu, just day-dreaming and relaxing in my own world. The Fortune is just finishing striking the village that took so long to build.



It’s early in the afternoon, on a sunny October day, as I slump into one of the two hammocks that are hanging from two giant trees. There is soft grass below and a gentle breeze cooling my skin. Life is good… I look on, as laborers load up the last remnants of a village that will never be seen again, except on film. I have seen this area get stripped clean before… when it was Stalag 13.  That’s life at a big studio!

My hammock gently sways like I’m on some magic carpet ride. I’m floating through the sky… and the overstuffed cotton ball clouds seem to drift right by me… and my mind also begins to drift… I remember a night, earlier this year, when me and the Sullivans spent the night here, in these very same hammocks, drinking Gallo wine. And after finishing off a whole gallon between us, we took an intoxicated walk around the entire lot at 3am… like Otis Cambell.


My reveries must’ve lulled me into a nap… I awake to this fond memory and quaint setting, all the while checking to see if I’m in a dream. When I go to sleep at night, I focus my mind on these studio backlots, attempting to steer my subconcious into specific dreams. Sometimes, guards chase me, awakening me… I often have one foot on the floor… ready to run… just as I wake up. The dream police are inside of my head!


My AM radio is tuned to KFI for Dodger Baseball and the pregame show is on… perfect timing. Every kid needs a day like this. I carry what’s left in my little lunch bag, a can of chocolate pudding and half a PB and J sandwich and a pocketful of Bazooka Joe bubble gum. I’m set. I begin my walk from this hilltop paradise to the creaky old sets in the town of Mayberry.


I pause for more Bazooka Joe… pretending I’m getting free gum. Gee ThanksMr Dave.



Below,  one of my doodling pictures drawn while day dreaming at school…

Docs and Call Sheets_20200730_0058.jpg


Just like Opie Taylor did, I walk the entire length of Mayberry, looking in every window and opening every door, while popping bubbles and going over today’s line-ups. I even stop by the courthouse to see if Andy and Barney are in.

First pitch is coming up, so I decide between either hanging out in the church or hanging out in the fort we built in Andy Griffith’s house. I choose the fort.


This iconic set is just half a house. The backside can be easily viewed from Higuera Street. A simple, two story home with a stairway built on the backside, going up to Opie’s room, which is now my fort. I’m Opie Taylor today…

I walk down the driveway, past the garage that is just an illusion wall, and straight up to my room. The porch roof  just outside the upstairs windows allows for a hasty exit, if necessary. That would mean jumping, of course, but it’s not bad at all; most my friends who have been here with me have already jumped off of it.

There are some explosive boxes from Stalag 13, which we brought up before, to use as seats. And a cot-bed made from rope has been brought up here by someone. I wonder… who!

Drapes cover the backside of this set. I put those up with Jimmy one day to block the view from the backside; We grabbed random fabrics from the neighbors’ houses and then we hooked them on various protruding nails.

There is only a simple, chain link fence just behind this house that others often stumble over to use my forts. It’s like an underground community. This house has a roof, of course, and the side walls, which extend farther along the side, than the roof does.

I light the joint that I’ve been carrying around all morning, as the first pitch is delivered. I gaze out the upstairs windows… the enormous church is in the foreground and beyond that, I see the Baldwin Hills, which frame my wonderful vision. I’m barely halfway through my doobie, and Pittsburgh has dropped three runs on L.A., and it’s still the first inning!

A car drives slowly in front of Andy’s house; it’s some fancy, purple, two seater sports car. It stops and the driver stares at this set, as I flatten myself against the wall. I see he has a pretty lady sitting beside him.

Probably some producer, I reckon!

Thought he’d never leave. The score is now 5-0. My day has been perfect, except for this score. I can see why the Pirates are known as “the lumber company,” as Willie Stargell goes deep on Doug Rau. An interesting fact pointed out by annoucer Ross Porter: only one player has ever hit a ball outside of Dodger Stadium. It is Willie Stargell, and amazingly, he has done it TWICE!

I was hoping for a World Series celebration today, but now it’ll come down to Game 5 to decide the NL Crown.

I have my sling shot and I shoot into the wind, from this upstairs vantage point, using random objects as projectiles. The tree in front of this house is famous for the episode where Opie shoots his sling shot at it, accidentally killing a mother bird. Opie must then raise Winkin, Blinkin and Nod on his own. I cried watching that episode; it’s actually the sadest episode, ever.

I fire away… Pow, Pow, Pow… figuring lighting can’t strike twice. It’s fun to daydream about all the stuff that has happened here, while being here. This is a museum; relics lay untouched behind old buidings, decades later. Signs are the most prevalent. A Mayberry Courthouse sign sits behind the courthouse, alongside a dilapidated miniature military boat.


Above: Behind the courthouse.

Both the sign and the boat have seen better days. I want this boat. If I can get it to the creek, I can float it half-way home. It will be a project for another day, when I have reinforcements. This ship is twice the size of the Hogan’s Heroes tree stump that Pat and I rolled out of here, a while back. But it sure would be fun to play with, in the creek!

It’s fun to go through buildings from top to bottom, to see what kind of views lie beyond  every window. Graffiti, done by various laborers, from shows long ago, is scribbled on the walls. Today is all about exploring… just being me.

Whether I’m shooting sling shots, chewing bubble gum, listening to baseball, or just being a Lone Ranger kid, an adventure awaits around every turn!

An anecdote…

As a side bar to this story, I was on the Grinch movie set, on Stage 27 at Universal, and was able to meet Ron Howard. We chatted briefly, since he was the director. He took a break, as we hung out at craft service, snacking. I asked him, “what was it like for you, growing up in Desilu?”

His response was delayed, “funny you should ask… I just was walking the the (Hayden Tract) with my daughters, showing them where the sets were located.”

I responded, “Did you ever go inside the Hogan’s Heroes tree stump?” He shook his head YES and smiled. My response was, “I ended up taking it when Stalag 13 was torn down…and I had a fort in the upstairs of your house!”

He smiled. “It was as much my home, as my Burbank home was. Very special place and time!”

No truer words were ever spoken, Mr Howard!

Many of my buddies on the Universal crew watched this brief exchange, from a short distance away, as they knew very well, my history on that lot. For weeks they wanted me to approach him and were thrilled about how he reacted… a super moment with a Hollywood icon, who I always felt a kinship with. People always told me I could “work as a double for Richie Cunningham.” And in a way, I literally walked his Opie footsteps…

At the wrap party, Ron shared a special moment, when he stood to toast Monty Menapiece, the Universal Best Boy, who was working on his last show and was retiring. He was the one who really wanted me to approach Ron about this stuff.

Monty was an electrician on the Andy Griffith show and Ron presented Monty will his moment in the sun. Monty cried in appreciation.

Class all the way… both men. Remembering fondly a different time in space…


Don’t change that channel… The Shelter, next, same time same place!
Written and lived by Donnie Norden…
Edited by DQ
Visit my FB page … Phantom of the Backlot

Hearts of the West Chapter 58

Something big is going on in front of Boystown

After school, Jimmy and I head over for our daily fix of Lot 2. We perch ourselves amongst the owls in the church steeple, and watch as a portable trailer carefully backs its way through a narrow passageway, while a handful of workers guide him along.

Meanwhile, studio laborers, carpenters, and a various assortment of transportation vehicles actively go about their duties, as a structure is being framed alongside one of the dirt roads that intersects in front of my fort, at Boystown.

This backlot sure has been busy, yet rumours persist that it is “For Sale.” Whatever the price, it’s worth it, I think. This wonderful, magical place is perceived as hot property for developers. Apparently, studio big shots no longer think backlots are good for filming.

Magic sure does happen here. And I now know that to make that magic happen, you need the entire area. Like one huge, blank canvas… it can be converted into anything. One world can be transformed into another… a medieval hamlet can be revamped into a space age dreamscape with a few tricks and some fairy dust. If I owned this place, I would run a tour service with trams, just like Universal does… the way I already do, as a kid!

Like nowhere else…

It’s like I’m seeing into time… I know that right now, I’m sitting in an historic place that will one day, be looked back on as a legend, an iconic spot that defined an era. I feel proud to be able to call this place my stomping ground. But it’s even more than that for me. It’s like a retreat. It’s my special hideout, my place of adventures, all in one.

I feel like it’s a part of me and who I am yet to become. I couldn’t have known it yet, but it would sow the seeds of my future career as a tour guide. A bit of nostalgia wells up in me, as I see this film activity take place below me. I blow a kiss towards the MGM logo and water tower that stares back at me and the entire backlot, from the roof of Sound Stage 12, on Lot 1. There is nothing else I’d rather be doing and nowhere else I’d rather be!

Our Informant…

Jimmy and I wander over towards a table saw, as noise from the carpenters below disguises our movements. Elton John’s “Philadelphia Freedom” is blasting from the workers’ radio, as we attempt to fit in. With occasional interuptions by DJ J.J. Jackson, we quickly recognize the station as L.A.’s KLOS.

We discover that this is a movie starring Andy Griffith, Jeff Bridges and Blythe Danner. It will use German Village for the WWI scenes, as well as this new set, that they are framing, as we speak. “It’s a hotel we’re building,” I am told by one of the carpenters, who puffs on his cigarette as he speaks over the squealing saw blade. He points while exhaling, “the blueprint’s right over there.”

“The company is at Vasquez Rocks today” he quips, as a section of wood hits the ground. “Shoots next week—it’s a cowboy movie!” My informant friend nods as he leaves, with wood under his arm. “Cool, thanks!” we wave, in appreciation.

A week later…

We have watched this set grow in the usual way: building, painting, set decorations, and finally, electrical rigging. What I have learned to appreciate is the talent involved with each trade and department. For example, this hotel is brand new, yet the art department is aging it to look 100 years old. They are not just painters; they are artists.

Construction builds details only where the camera will see it, leaving vast sections blank and unfinished. Every step costs money, so departments pick and choose what is needed. These construction crews are well-oiled machines. It’s not their first rodeo, that’s for sure.

Someday, this is what I want to do… make that tomorrow, please!

The circus arrives…

After school, we arrive to machine-gun fire. An old bi-plane is being filmed, with guns a blazin’ against the backdrop of a sky. The plane sits on a gimbal, to create uneven movements and the appearance of flying.

We watch from the church first, while this village we’re in, sets up for future scenes. An Army truck is being positioned on the cobblestone street. This is an MGM show, so all the equipment has my iconic MGM symbols and logos painted somewhere on it. This increases the odds of MGM guards being present, but… that’s why we got legs! We are going on set!

We climb down from the church steeple, as set decorators put the finishing touches on my tiny village. We walk the cobblestone street, then under the arch, and position ourselves right behind camera, in the powerful director chair circle.

Director, make-up, camera, the stars Jeff and Bylthe, and… us!

We’re getting used to this and hiding in plain sight is becoming routine. Security doesn’t expect to find us this close. We have not seen any security yet, anyhow. Take advantage of the moment, or you may never get that chance again… that becomes my credo.

The loud rattle of the bi-planes’ machine guns is quite the distraction. Everyone has a hand on the side of their head, by the time this scene gets redone a few times.

When the smoke clears, there we are… next to Jeff Bridges in his WWI pilot garb.




This scene is finally captured on film and we all walk towards the next set, which is the French Combat Village… We feel like we own this place!


Jimmy and I sit inside the army truck, as Jeff Bridges and Blythe Danner rehearse the next scene. Mannequins of dead soldiers are laying around the street. They even put one on the running board of the truck. We exit the vehicle when we realize we’re in the shot that’s being set up…




All the buildings still have signs painted on them from Young Frankenstein…


The Rose Hotel


The show gets these much needed night shots at the Rose Hotel, right where this adventure started for us, just last week!



Written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

Don’t change the channel… A  hooky day from school—Mayberry style. Next up!


The Ultimate Warrior -Chapter 57

CLANK! is the deafening sound as my tiny crow bar collides with MGM’s wrought iron fence. It did not make a dent… CLANK! CLUNK! CLANK! CLUNK! again, like banging random car parts together… This time I got it! Third strike is a charm.

Punctured holes are a blessing and they exist all over this fence. I can tell some have been here for decades. These magical portals allow us to see inside the backlot, it’s just like having our very own security cameras, or rather, spy viewers… for our reconnaissance and surveillance missions.

Jimmy and I are strategically placing these little slitted holes in very specific areas of this fenced lot, where it behooves us to see inside. This allows us to plan accordingly before entering. This compact 18″ tool is a perfect addition for any trespasser’s tool belt.

Pleased with our work, I hurry to take a peek inside the first set of holes. They are adjacent to the huge prop warehouse and the church, on Maple Street. We are currently standing on the side of the Southern Pacific train track line.

Unbeknownst to me, Red Ford Bronco is right there! As I peer inside, I see it right in front of me. Figures… this would be my first image, ever, through these new holes. The driver door is ajar, and I’m instantly baffled. Before I can think, a voice booms from atop the fence. Security guard Big Ron’s huge shadow covers me from above.

“So, you say you don’t vandalize this studio, don’t you John?” he says, in a deep voice that suits his Paul Bunyan size… I stand alone, embarrassed, realizing Jimmy is running away down these same train tracks. I stand my ground, with my crow bar in hand, speechless, staring upwards, trying to be innocent looking.

I silently realize… I know this looks bad, but I have nothing to say… so I also head west following the dust Jimmy just kicked up… I can’t talk my way out of this one, so it’s time for me to catch the next train to Santa Fe!


Above. train tracks and metal fence along Culver and Overland.

“John” is an alias I once gave to security, who now refer to me as “John Ordon.”

With tasks still at hand, and a crowbar latched to my belt, I make my way to the other side of the backlot, behind New York Street, on Montana Avenue. I have another set of holes to create; I target the metal fence behind New York Street, well aware that Big Ron is on the loose.

This time, I want to puncture this fence with one solid… BANG. 

The last set of holes almost got me in trouble because it took multiple wallops to create the punctures. Repetition attracts attention. The metal fence on this side of the studio is older and already littered with some marvelous holes in the fence! 

I psyche myself up while making myself gnarly looking with a tuff kid face. I envision my body’s movement before gaining momentum by taking two steps forward, towards the fence, then I unleash myself and all my fury, uncoiling my tool as if I were an Indian Chief with a tomahawk…

CRASH! I succeed in hitting the fence so hard this time, that one strike is all it takes. Presto! Two magic holes on one swing! Like christening an ocean liner. This time, no Bronco appears. My inaugural vision through these new spy holes is a magical sight. As I intrepidly look inside, I see filming taking place, off in the distant New York Street.

Arc lights triangulate around a shirtless, tanned, bald-headed, male actor. He is too far away to decipher, and he seems to be standing on a tipped-over car. My first ever vision through this kaleidoscope of holes is an actor filming a cool scene… nice!

These tiny holes in the fence open up to a gigantic entryway, transporting me to another dimension.

This compact little crow bar device is already paying off, like a back stage pass.

Whatever this show is… we will soon find out.

Planet of the Apes was cancelled and all the crumbled cement has been removed. This is a Warner Brothers film. All the trucks have the W.B. logo. I quickly go home, skipping right past Jimmy—who somehow managed NOT to tell me Big Ron was RIGHT above me—stopping instead, at Danny’s house.

My simple “they’re filming at MGM” is all that’s needed. It pulls him away from after-school TV, shows like Match Game with Gene Rayburn, and Tattletales, with Bert Convy. Danny veg’s out on these shows after school and has the hots for Elaine Joyce!

But anyways…

I quickly exchange my crowbar for a pot pipe as we head back over to MGM, by the same tracks I left on.

We climb up to a rooftop, above the lights and cameras. Quickly, we take it all in. Cars are flipped or vandalized and some are missing tires and parts. One vehicle sits on its side, as that man that was wearing only pants, stands on top of it.


A group of transients shout at him, but he does not respond to the mob’s hollering, at all. This set is exactly where the ground opened up for Planet of the Apes, capturing a human and an ape. But now… a robotic-looking guy stands above, looking down on his followers, much like Big Ron was looking down on me, just a short while ago.

Who is that guy?… we think, outloud. Danny nails it, it’s Yul Brynner.

I love this dude. Westworld is one of my favorite movies ever, it reminds me of how we play in MGM.



We see that catering has left. And with the sun about to set, this is probably the last scene of the day. Rule of thumb: when the food goes away, or shortly thereafter, the company goes away.

We need to get up as close as we can. And we do; MGM has security on the backlot, but not on this set.

I need to see this robot-looking, warrior guy… up close. We walk directly to the set, like we belong there, and as we correctly presumed, the martini shot is taking place. We stand right at camera, as crew starts rolling away anything with wheels on it.







We watch from up close, just out of frame, as this scene gets filmed several times. Yul listens almost comatosely while the survivors of a mysterious, mass human annihilation, offer incentives to join their club.

Yul comes to life only to talk to the director in between takes, then as the camera begins to roll again, he turns back into a statue.

Each time, each scene, Yul interacts with the director, who is right in front of us. We are right in Yul’s line of vision, and it’s as if we’re part of a directing team. He even looks at us, when interacting with the director.

One more take, then the director yells, “Check the Gates!”

That is movie terminology for… Checking for dust or debris that may be on the camera lens before saying “Cut or Wrap!”

Many scenes will be cut and edited to appear as a bigger New York Street, since this show has many exterior locations on Warner Brothers’ backlot, also.

You can probably tell how these are exactly the same sets, weeks later, from Planet of the Apes.

Not knowing this was scheduled today made this day a wonderful surprise. Being up close to this legendary movie star and watching him practice his craft will create memories for Danny and I to cherish forever.

All this, thanks to an 18″ crowbar and two-holes in the fence!

Below, other scenes filmed on MGM’s Lot 2:






Written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

Please visit my Facebook page Phantom of the Backlots

Broad Street Bullies…Chapter 56

This is the night I’ve been waiting for! I have been a Los Angeles Kings fan since their inception into the league in 1967. They are going against the red hot Philadelphia Flyers, who will make their one and only appearance at LA’s Fabulous Forum tonight.

With names like Dave “The Hammer” Schultz, Bob “The Hound” Kelly, André “Moose” Dupont and Don “Big Bird” Saleski, you’d think we’re talking about a Disney on Ice show, but these are the most fierce competitors on ice, playing in an arena near you.


This group has a penchant for beating up players on the opposing team; this may include the fans, who often try to accost them from the stands in protest of their dirty tactics. It’s must see NHL. My pal, Gerald, drives the Zamboni that cleans the Forum’s ice and even better… he sneaks me inside The Forum, through a backstage door.

The game goes as expected… the Flyers dominate and intimidate Los Angeles. Early in the 3rd period, after a goal by Bobby Clarke, the fans exit in droves, as the score spirals to an insurmountable lead of 6-2. Me and Jimmy cash in on all the chaos. While the stampede floods the isles, we slide into a couple seats right behind the Flyers’ bench.

My eyes must have doubled in size… I can’t believe what I’m looking at. They’re right there! We can literally touch their red jerseys. We can smell their sweat. I catch myself with my mouth hanging open, but I have to look nonchalant.

Jimmy and I begin to wonder what we sat down to. It quickly becomes a moment of be careful what you wish for. Or, like the moment in the Wizard of Oz, when she pulls back the curtain only to find that the marvels of the mind don’t quite measure up, in reality.

The L.A. fans are like drunken sailors. They’re loud and crude and foul mouthed and they toss around insults faster than they throw down bottles of beer and anything else they can get their hands on. And they spit.

Suddenly, a chocolate malt flies over us, hitting Mr. Schultz “The Hammer,” and the players along side him. They turn backwards and stand with their sticks raised… making eye contact with me and Jimmy, as if we’re the culprits.

Heck, we just sat down… we were hoping for memories, sitting this close, but this moment has become… SCARY! 

We sink deeply into our seats as the players revolt feverishly… fortunately, the fan that tossed the melted mess stands up and begins cursing! The players focus their attention on him as Inglewood police step in between all of us.

This video below is typical of the NHL in 1974/75…


After we get home, me and Jimmy and Gerald all go relive this experience at MGM. It’s just after 11pm when we jump over the fence. We head from the train station entrance to Maple Street, where we climb up to the roof top of a house we call the “Two-chimneys.”





We pop our heads out of each chimney, taking turns peering over the town square, in the dark. The Bronco slowly drives by below us, with his lights off, unaware of our presence. New York street glows, off in the distance… work lights illuminate the piles of concrete still present from Planet of the Apes. That show is on a hold as producers wait on the ratings of the six episodes to compute.

New York Street remains dressed and ready to film. That show, as does my gang, will depend on these ratings for future episodes… Please Watch!

We are still wound up from the Broad Street Bullies experience. I trip over an electrical spider box and fall down a flight of steep, narrow and very dark and dirty old stairs.

As I examine myself for damages in the dark, I realize that I split my noggin. Blood flows freely down my face. I look like I just scrimmaged the Flyers. I continue to play, albeit injured!

We rehash each and every highlight of tonight’s game, catching ourselves as we talk much too loudly, in all our excitement from the day’s adventures. As my left eye begins to swell shut, I think to myself, it adds a nice touch. It’ll make a nice story tomorrow, when kids at school ask me what happened.

The only light anywhere in this town square is the cherry at the end of the doobie we are toking on now…

We head home about mid-night. Jimmy is his usual clean self, Gerald can proudly saddle his Zamboni, but I look like an opponent who was beaten up and doing a lot time in a penalty box…

Written and lived by Donnie Norden…
Edited by Donna Quesada

Planet of the Apes…The Trap-Chapter 55

The free pass that was supposed to last all week barely got us to lunch on day one.  The rest of this day we will be climbing New York street roof tops and peering out open windows. We make auxiliary plans as we finish our catered meal.

Prime rib, chocolate cake, apple pie a la mode are chased down by several containers of milk. This concludes the fanciest meal this fort has ever seen. This spread is like my lovely mother’s meals at Thanksgiving. But today is just Tuesday in the middle of the summer.

We tell ourselves we should not feel disappointed. We’ll just go back to what we do best, which is sneaking around… like we own the place.

We have a meeting to discuss what’s next for us here, and as we lick our fingers, we both agree that catering will still be a part of our day.

We develop our plans as we linger over the last bites of this meal that is fit for a king. We already know that breakfast is prefabbed and wrapped in foil, so even though it doesn’t measure up to the layout we just enjoyed, it’s perfect for kids on the go. Mini Fruit Loops boxes, little milk containers and breakfast burritos… all for the taking. So, we will just pop in and out through the doorways that are perfectly positioned next to the food tables. Just like some sort of phantoms…

It’s usually easy to grab lunches after the crew gets theirs. In fact, we quickly discover that being last to eat gets you the most food, since studio caterers don’t keep leftovers. “Take whatever you guys need” is the only encouragement we need, as Michelson catering hands us more clean plates. I feed fellow trespassers with the abundance of gourmet delights, like I’m the host of this joint.

I take enough to feed friends waiting inside New York Street buidings. Call me the “caterer for trespassers.” I barter my food services for good dope.

Being resiliant allows us to not skip a beat.

Back on set…




The Public Library…that sign was put above this entrance for Soylent Green.


The Apes caught a couple trespassers…



Above: Matte Painting… before and after of New York Street.





Apes and humans unite to save the combatants. The Apes above ground need to rely on human ingenuity to engineer an escape from the collapsed subway. The remainder of this afternoon focuses on this series of events. Trust is needed… Apes must trust the humans.

And the following filmed interactions evolve from suspicion and even gunfire towards the human rescuers to a bond of empathy and compassion as they begin work in unison towards a single cause. That is, to save one human, James Naughton, and one ape… Urko.

For Jimmy and I, it’s business as usual. Sneaking precariously close to every scene that is shot, just out of frame. The production manager is wearing a T-shirt that says Project Questor. We try to stay out of the sight lines of the director and this individual, since these are the same two that crumbled up our free pass.

We are amazed by all the trespassers. They have made their way to every building, every window and every doorway. Word spread like wildfire. Venice High kids, Culver kids, Catholic kids, and some that are simply bad kids!

I see a Sullivan kid with a rifle that an ape set down on the edge of a building. We make eye contact as he stands inside a building looking it over, I point authoritatively while gesturing. The message was received loud and clear, although no words were spoken. He swiftly put it back!

There is a lot of filming ahead and taking weapons will not be tolerated by me or this production company. Plus, I may get blamed since I am now under the microscope. I can’t have these dumb kids ruining my operation here. Ironically, while the guards keep my name at the top of their list, I become the real guardian of these treasures.

As camera angles change on this Ape/Human rescue, commotion between the camera man and the director catches our attention. As we sit, perched above the cave-in, another small group of out of control kids splinters off towards the end of New York Street.

And now, unsurprisingly, the camera picks up trespassers crossing the street during a shoot. These kids are out of control. They have to go!

There are so many groups of kids here that I am not sure who the culprits really are, but soon enough, they disappeared.

Next, in another scene, Roddy McDowall runs into some kids in a doorway, and to our astonishment, he goes inside and walks out with my pal, Gerald, and a couple of other nieghborhood kids.

He has his hand on Gerald’s shoulder. Jimmy and I are blown away… Roddy is giving all the kids clearance and is letting them all stay in the buildings as guests on the set. What a cool guy!

OK… So, only Jimmy and I are not allowed on this set anymore but every other rotten kid is cleared, compliments of Roddy McDowall?

Roddy would’ve saved us if he had gotten to us first.

Dusk ends, day one. What a day.

The Grand Central Train Station is on the docket for many scenes. So, since Jimmy and I are banned, we set up ladders on the train tracks just outside the studio fence and just adjacent to today’s filming.

This set was used two weeks ago by the Fortune company, with Warren Beatty. Extra security has been in place, since all the mayhem, in an attempt stop juvenile interruptions. That means a full dose of Big George and Bronco Bob.

We are not trespassing. Just loitering is all. Being in a high profile area, in public view from Culver Blvd and Elenda Street, we quickly attract attention from all directions; the set, all the actors, and the Culver City public. We have become a spectacle. Our hodge podge ladders of every shape and size are all leaning and positioned for fun and easy viewing.

A blur of heads and shoulders bobbing up and down is what the cast sees as they film scenes. They smile and wave at us in between takes. As the day gets longer, more ladders and kids arrive. A mob of sight seeers is on one side of the fence while actors and apes do their thing on the other side.




Maureen’s apartment is a sling shot away and she finally wanders over to join the mob. I save her a special rung on my ladder. Well, perfectly timed… here comes Roddy McDowall. In between scenes, he monkees around with us. First he acts completely like an ape, but then he reaches up with his ape hands to touch all the kids’ hands.

The director waits for his return. Everyone is watching this moment… all the actors, stunt folk and crew, as Roddy wishes each and every kid a wonderful day!

Written and lived by Donnie Norden…
Edited by DQ

MGM Trespassers…unfiltered!

Due to the large amount of interest in this recently published list, I am resubmitting it for your approval… the document in it’s entirety.

Addresses, phone numbers, and of course… who nailed ya!

 We all should’ve run faster…

Below: 1931 MGM logo






Notice Jerry Sullivan on the bottom section. He was a regular trespasser, going all the way back to our St. Augustine school years.

The footnote states: four people caught – all gave his name. (Pardon me while I laugh! As if anyone would give their real name!)

The footnote continues: All have been on the lot several times. I would turn them over to CCPD (…is how B.C. delt with this capture.)

B.C. is Bob Coleman, alias Bronco Bob… the same guard who shot at another Catholic school boy friend named Pat Rich. He is the same guard who had me kicked off the Planet of the Apes set in previous blog… when I dressed up in Ape gear!


Written and lived and taken by…Donnie Norden