Phantom of the Backlots

I ride around the outside of MGM constantly, always doing my due dilligence. Since I have now been captured, I’m a bit gun-shy. I was told by Captain Jolly, head of MGM security, I would end up in jail if I fail to comply. I now save trespasses for cool stuff, so when filming takes place, I will punch that ticket. Even this speck of compliance will eventually diminish, I’m sure.

Probably sooner than later because I have just obtained a shooting schedule indicating that a made for TV movie, with the working title of The Phantom of Lot 2, is in production.

All the studio entrances now say World Wide Studios …

It is being directed by my hero, Gene Levitt, who produced Combat on these same MGM backlots. I still play in the craters and bombed out villages desolated by that TV series. The same show whose gunfire I could hear all day long at my house. Combat was my inspiration!

I had to see what really takes place behind the studio fences. I had to see the devastation. What is this place that plays war with real army stuff all day long? It will be an honor to sneak onto his set. So much for compliance.

The amazing thing about this Phantom of Lot 2 show are the similarities to my own “shenanigans” taking place right now, on these back lots. We watch, as the show starts with two teenagers who look like dead ringers for me and Jimmy! They climb into MGM exactly where we climb in, right across the street from Maureen, my girlfriend, and her bedroom. Her window looks directly at this scene from across the way. We continue to watch, as we stand on her bed, peering out of the top of her bedroom window, which is practically in the framed shot. We joke in amazement, “look at those guys, they look like us!”

MGM often positions a guard at exactly this spot because they know this is our frequent entry point. (And that’s because it’s a sling shot away from our houses). And yes, we often fire sling shots at the Bronco when it parks right there…

It gets stranger. There is a a building that a teenager falls and dies from. It’s Boystown, my fort, which was recently involved in a huge police search involving me.

Readers, please read Right Place Wrong Time from a previous post, for reference.

Check this out… The teenagers in this show begin their trespass at the same place where we sneak in… regularly. They look like us. These teen age- long haired  punks as Broderick Crawford call us die falling from the top of Boystown, where my fort exists. I am nicknamed the Phantom by MGM security… “Here one minute, gone the next,” they say… So, I already had the nickname. I reckon the show is all about me!

This lot is only big enough for one Phantom… Me!

World Wide Security wants this rogue individual much in the same way MGM wants me. It is the focus of this show and parallels my own reality on these Hollywood Lots. Who better than Broderick Crawford, former star of the television series The Highway Patrol to play head of security? Rough and gruff, he reminds me of my dad. I’m glad he is not the one in charge here, for real.

Set decorations are actually attempting to make all their sets more dilapidated than they actually are, as if this old place is no longer a major player in movies and TV.

The reality is that the future would have plenty of huge blockbuster movies ahead… 

Scenes with wind machines blow dust in the background to emphasize desolation and abandonment. The back lot now gives the impression that it’s only fit for phantoms.

In another scene… Me and Maureen’s old row boat… making its last TV appearance

After school, I immediately go to the back lot to catch up with this film. I start by peeking through holes in the fence to figure out what sets are in use today. That way, I can sneak in, yet not have to cross vast open expanses. Since my capture, efficiency is priority number one.

This Friday afternoon, I’m doing just that… I’m outside the lot, casing the joint on my bike, peering in at times, at every crack and hole. I’m on the corner of Montana and Midway, in the residential neighborhood just beyond the fence. I look up and at exactly the spot where I hit Big George with lemons, just months before, I see the Phantom!

And he is looking at me. He is filming, 10 feet away, in full costume, with his metal spiked weapon in hand. He just killed a man who was involved with tearing down Lot 2.

We stare in amazement at each other. He is masked, but I know it’s Jack Cassidy. I’m excited, as well as flabbergasted. It seems so surreal. He waves with his non-weapon hand. I could not be closer if I was on the lot. I wave back!

I like the fact that his goal is to protect these sets from decimation. I try to do the same thing. He refuses to let this place die. Like me.

My view from the fence, as The Phantom attacks the man on top of this stairway

Nightime brings out a different energy on this grand play ground

Care to enter? …Please shut the gate behind you

Make yourself comfortable, you’re in a special place that warps time… sugar plum ferries live under this bridge, so they say!

Below, The Phantom protecting his castle

Below, If this worklight could talk, the stories it could tell…somehow, it ended up at my house.

Below,  I’ve seen this pose before!

Spirits do exist in the night here, all night… just let them run through you…

Nightime is mysterious, but yet magical on the backlot. Like sparks rising from a wood fire into the night sky, spirits seem to rise up out of the cobblestones themselves… These spirits aren’t scary, so don’t be afraid. Just let them be the spirits they are. I often come here by myself, but I’m never alone. Louis B. Mayer himself walked these pathways… Scarlett O’Hara and Clark Cable emerge from the deep south… Judy Garland sings clang clang clang went the trolley… A caped Rudolph Valentino drinks wine while serenading ladies from balconies… costumed acrobats skip and cartwheel about… French waiters and can-can dancers and the sound of accordions bring Parisian villages to life… Gypsies, tramps and thieves band together, while fog camouflages their movements. The smell of incense fills the air. I visit beings that only reveal themselves on their terms. Not everyone will see them, but ohhh how they exist…

Whether you were a larger than life movie star, a famous director, a movie mogul, such as Louie B. Mayer, or a bottom of the barrel security guard, we are all welcome here. We are all kindred spirits. We all share the same passions… that’s why we’re here. And these backlots are truly the stars, anyway. We’re just guests here. All these ghosts will tell you that. No egos allowed at this party…

Doors open and close all around us, by themselves. Spirits dance whimsically about…  curtains blow with no wind and windows suddenly shut… it just happens. Don’t be afraid. Owls hoot endlessly, making music for us, as the moon shines through the windows of hollow buidings. Bull frogs croak with joy. Nothing is real, yet everything is real, its all perspective…

All these wonderful entities are celebrating both the past with the present, amongst these deserted cities of the heart. I am suddenly struck by a need to keep this legacy alive…  Stories for future generations to share… stories that celluloid can only capture visually. Yes… a passing of a torch will happen… The spirits were waiting for someone like me to carry it on.

Somewhere in my bones, I decide… right then and there, that these stories—stories from people who lived, worked and dreamed inside the boundaries of the backlots—shall live on… 

Spirits will let you exist in their inner magical circle, and in my case, help me escape capture, so that I can be with them,… so I, too, can experience this wonderful place. I draw on these spirits when I’m boxed into a tight situation, like when I’m outrunning security or police… Or, like the chimney escape that I relayed most recently, when I got away, against all odds. They grab my hand invisibly, and lead me to safety.

My passion for this movie studio is as deep as the passion that exists within these magical flying embers that surround me, like a bunch of happy fireflies…

It’s like I’ve been here before, in another carriage… Your spirit will never die, if you wish to believe. No one can take it… it’s yours forever. So, dance, drink and be merry, with all the spirits in the night… just like that ride at Pirates of the Carribean.

Life is a one take affair, all or nothing… so don’t blow it!

I truly feel the TV Phantoms’ frustration, as the developers start knocking down the sets.

Every picture tells the story…

Below, I myself have experienced running along these catwalks…

In scenes to follow, all over the backlot, especially on New York street, the chase by security and the local police takes place. They must capture him. The TV phantom kills a tractor operator with an arrow, at the base of the Great Wall of China set. I watch from the Montana Lot, where the crew parks, as the chase along the catwalks takes place. It’s like I’m watching my own movie.

This accident can easily happen, it’s part of the danger of being a Phantom..

The TV Phantom is running out of time…

You will notice Febuary 12, 1974 this show first aired on TV, almost exactly 46 years to this day I now share this memory with you…

World Wide Security finally finished off this Phantom… MGM knows there is still a young Phantom laying in the weeds. This one won’t go away.

Below: Me… escaping like the Phantom of the Backlot… That’s how you do it—right way up!

My hair works as a parachute…

As this show wraps up, it will air on CBS in the upcoming weeks. I tell everyone to watch.  I walk home with a spear that is fake, but looks so real. I found it at the graveyard (shown below) that this show put together, alongside Tarzan’s Lake. I promote the other Phantom… as my spear gets passed around by all the neighborhood kids. Everyone will stay home that night to see what they’ve been missing over at Lot 2.

Above: Most kids carry school books home, but I carry spears, weapons, and movie props.

Notice that the call sheet says “Phantom of Lot 2″… CBS TV wanted to use “Hollywood” in the title, instead of “Lot 2,” so, they changed it prior to airing!

Coming soon, Young Frankenstein… Don’t turn this channel!

All stories written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

At nightime, the German village on MGM’s Lot 2 appears eerily haunted. Silhouettes with different shapes are very familiar to us, since we now know this lot inside and out. A castle top, turrets, and a church steeple, sit atop a hill, with cobblestone streets going in three different directions.

Tonight, it’s just me and Danny, my good pal. He is a year older than me, and loves to fish, which he does often at Tarzan’s lake. Usually that includes frying a batch of crawfish, also, which I’ve seen him do.

We are perched inside the church steeple in German village, with the many owls I often see up here. The only thing moving on the lot tonight is the Bronco. We are able to make out that it’s none other than Bronco Bob, the same guard that once shot at my friend, Pat, in a chase last year.

We decide to just sit inside this old steeple and watch the Bronco patrol the lot. It’s completely dark and the Bronco gives itself away easily with its distinctive headlights. Street after street, dirt road after dirt road, village after village, we see these headlights advertising Bronco Bob’s whereabouts. A simple, methodical, and ineffective way to patrol, if you ask me, but I’m just a kid.

Above… the steeple in the story and the Red Bronco on patrol

Danny brought some cigars. I’ve never smoked one. Tijuana Smalls… you know, the brand by this jingle… 10 for the road baby, for you maybe, you know who you are… mellow like wine baby, for you maybe, you know who you are… I know who I am… I’m the Phantom of the Backlot.

These chic cigars have given me quite a buzz, so I decide to play with my brand new Buck Knife that I just bought at Big 5. I pass it to Danny, as we sit at the very top of the church, and he drops it… Four stories down she goes, through a tree below us, and right smack onto the pavement. We decide to climb down to look for it, then leave.

We cannot find it… it’s too dark and we can’t use lights of course, with Bronco Bob on duty.

I’ll just have to get it tomorrow after school, I think… in the daylight.

I go straight from school to MGM, without any stops in between. I want my brand new shiny Buck knife back.

I find it right away… while wondering how I could have missed it. With my knife in my hand, and my school books on my back, I climb back out to civilization, at the train station gate. This is the moment that will forever change the rules of this cat and mouse game. “Big George,” the giant hired to capture me, “finally gets his kid,” the caption should read. And I practically jump right into his arms.

Above: Big George.

I figure he must’ve seen me while he was driving down Culver Blvd. And to add insult to injury, he is off-duty! He cuffs me, and throws me in his econo van. Quickly, as if he had a siren, we charge through the East Gate, on Lot 1. He slows down, once we pass through the gate, just to show off his prisoner. We tour the studio so everybody can have a look. I’m humiliated! Ohh geeze, there is Chad Everett, I look away, not wanting to be linked with security, in case I see him again. What’s more embarrasing, George looks like a slob in his dirty white T shirt.

I am finally ushered into MGM’S main security department to meet Captain Jolly. They now interrogate me under a bright light, and search my school bag. They list a million reasons why I should not play here, then call my dad, who is very aware of my studio double life.

He arrives shortly to pick me up. I’ve been released… no jail, no harm, no foul. But MGM now has what they want: my address…

What this will mean in the future is this…I imagine, is chases will no longer end just by jumping the fence; they will now end at my house!

I live a block away from George… Lucky Me.

The ride home is silent, my dad is the quiet type. He played his part of concerned parent good enough. I’m pretty sure he is aware this charade is more bike than bite. But right now, we agree to agree, I’ve done wrong. Finally, one last prop is taken out of the security closet in MGM’s police headquarters. Props are stored everywhere in this studio, a large iron bar gets dropped on the interrogation table, an echo or extended ring adds to the drama. In a display to frighten me off forever, I am told this fell from a rooftop, narrowly missing George himself and possibly killing him.

Save the drama for your next TV pilot, I don’t believe this happened, I think to myself.

We all sit in silence as the depth of this example takes hold, my next thought, a silent one is-did I almost kill him?…I do spend a lot of time on rooftops…he is a big target. Just because I hit him with lemons one night doesn’t mean I want to kill em! I have no verbal response, this is a moment for silence. I may need a lawyer. The studio is trying to send me a message, the same one my mom says as I run out the front door of my house everyday…”Donnie-Just be careful!”

“I promise…I will.” 

I am released finally, and my dad can’t wait to fire up a Marlboro as we walk to exit out the east gate. I introduce him to Ken Hollywood as we pass the guard shack, as famous security guard at this studio who reminds my dad “He’s a good kid”

“Thanks Ken , see ya guys next time!”

All stories written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

This is the lot they named a city after… Century City. It is bikeable, which is good, since we don’t have driver’s licences. This is the farthest studio we can easily ride to. It is a Friday night in 1973. Jimmy and I ride our 10 speeds down Motor avenue with the intention of finding a way inside this studio. This starts with a perimeter search… which means, we  case the place, all along the studio fence lines. You see, we need to think like cops because we have to deal with cops in this line of work.

Right across from the Rancho Park golf course, in between some stages, we see a fence that we know we can get over. We take notes, but this is just a location scout visit; we will figure and implement a plan, later. The important thing is that it is possible.

We cover the entire outside of the studio, which includes the LA Rams ticket office on Pico. I often buy my game tickets here. My idol, Roman Gabriel, just made a movie on this lot with Merlin Olsen, Rock Hudson, and John Wayne, called The Undefeated. Gabriel also can be seen in an episode of Gilligan’s Island. I’m on the hunt for that island, which lies somewhere at CBS, in Studio City.

We’re satisfied with our findings and are just fixin’ to leave, but linger a bit, just because it’s 20th Century Fox. We peer at the guard shack that sits right next to the chain link fence. This is the same one that greets you, in the famous Hello Dolly entrance, on the lot’s New York Street.

We briefly say “Hello,” to security. His name tag says Charlie. This entrance is busy and serves as the hub of the studio.We stand and imagine… what is on the other side, hidden out of view! 

We are taking it all in, when a van pulls up behind us. Someone shouts my name… “Donnie!” We turn and the driver is none other than Bill, my sister’s on and off boyfriend. He is a Teamster in the movie business.

When he’s not driving stuffy movie people from set to set, he drives Goodhew ambulances. I guess you could say, he likes to drive stiffs around. My parents’ house often has an ambulance backed in the driveway. He makes out with Nancy in between hospital deliveries. A very stressful occupation, probably.

He says, “Park your bikes at the guard shack, here, and climb on in.”  His van is empty and has a cardboard show title in the window. He is driving for the TV show, called The Rookies, my favorite police show that is on right after Monday Night Football, on ABC, my new favorite day of the week… besides when the afternoon school bell rings on Fridays, and Sunday morning kickoffs.

Well, before we can get two words out, we are off. It is like being in an… ambulance. We turn a corner, practically sideways in the dirt, on a little western street, just as two costumed actresses jump from the road to the porch. They shout “Hey Billie,” as they smile broadly, waving in a familiar way, like this happens all the time. Various film trucks, makeup trailers, and movie equipment line this small Western street. Bill smiles and waves back, as we hold on for dear life.

This beats Friday nights in Santa Monica, cruising around in Pop’s Big Blue Bus.

What an introduction to this iconic lot. Bill’s father works as a stuntman on Hawaii 5-0 and Bill has craziness in his blood. He likes my sister and the steep, pitched roof of my house. He often practices rolling down the incline and falling onto a foam mattress, just like stuntmen do in jumps. I practice doing it with him… I find myself in this situation more than most kids, so I practice this stunt off of a very difficult roof. The rolling part is a bit of an overkill, but… I’ve gotta be prepared.

My dad tells me not to do this fall guy routine off of our roof. Lets just say, I broke my leg once on a miscalculation, just missing the safe zone. I love stuntmen and my dad works all the time, so… who knows what those thuds are on the roof?

We zip through this huge lot, like a movie on fast forward. Bill is driving a stand-by van. His job is to shuttle cast and crew back and forth, and everyone seems to know him. He said Kate Jackson was just sitting where I am now, which is shotgun in this van.

He brings us to his set, on what is called “New York Street,” on the lot. It is where Michael Ontkean is involved in a scene. He is the star of this series.

The area we are in is a slum that fits a crime show. It is the center of this small Street, which is actually Los Angeles in this series. Taking full advantage, we scout interiors of these five story buildings, as we make our way to the rooftops. It has a marvelous view of Century City and the New York Street, below. I just saw this same angle in the TV show S.W.A.T. A sniper was firing a rifle in that episode, which hit a van that exploded like the bomb at Hiroshima… lots of pyro, to say the least.

Above: same view, different night…

We missed a fire scene tonight, which involved a car, and the scenes being filmed now feature officers investigating this smoldering wreckage. Fire engine lights emit a red glow which flickers against the dark alley walls. Tall street lamps complete the sense of being on a real street. It is fun when we can match scenes to areas where we hang out. The martini shot is being filmed; that is the last scene of the night… hence martini. The crew is packing up the equipment as the show is wrapping out of this location.

There are many police cars to move and Bill will be involved. Right now, he is shuttling stars and crew back to makeup/wardrobe, and to the exit. We sit inside an LAPD cruiser, eating snacks from the fancy craft service table. That table rapidly disappears, right before our eyes, into a small trailer, for its next location early Monday morning. Good thing we loaded up and are wearing jackets with big pockets.

Free snacks… chips, candy bars, soda pop, popcorn and Cracker Jacks fill our pockets and stuff our tummies. The candies are all the extra big size. Everyone is so friendly around here. It’s the happiest place on earth.

Bill comes back an hour later and now drives us around in this police cruiser. We go around the lot much slower this time. Bill lets me turn on the flashing red lights. It’s a good thing he’s going slow, so we can map the place for future visits.

We take note of a water tank set where everything is miniature… miniature battles with miniature ships, miniature planes, and even a miniature submarine—probably from the Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea series—along side it. The tank is empty at the moment. Full size actors act out water scenes here, also. The wood framed structure is very old and has probably been used a thousand times. MGM has one on Lot 1, next to the scenic arts building. But, the grand daddy of all water tanks was on MGM Lot 3… which was last used for the film, Ice Station Zebra. R.I.P!

We get dropped off in this police car at Fox’s main gate, which is where we started this whole night. We get out with prestige, in front of the security guard, Charlie. At our bicycles, we proudly say “Good bye” to Charlie, the guard, and Bill. Just hours earlier, we were looking for a way in… now we are leaving in a picture car… with 7/11 in our pockets. 

Bill was and now, more than ever, is, my favorite of all my sister’s boyfriends. Jimmy and I pedal back down Motor avenue towards home, with another stripe on our sleeves. The Few, the Proud, The Marines. We have a dignified arrogance about us. All the while, blowing bubbles, thanks to Crafty. Our pockets are jammed full of Dubble Bubble and Bazooka Joe’s… they even have grape!

I have enough for some to chew tomorrow, at one of my forts in one of my other studios.   

MGM, Desilu, Fox, “the big three” on the Westside, are all under our belt, and I’m only 13. The future looks bright.

The only thing holding us back from the Valley Studios is that no one can drive yet. That time will come… for now, these three icons take up all my time.

All stories written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

Something is going on at Brownstone street at Lot 2. Fresh from some hair raising security disturbances, Jimmy and I cautiouly move about, as we watch set decorations prep the length of the street. Unlike the usual props and decor, these artists are making the street a bit ghetto-like. We watch from above the iconic alley that has an entrance to this slum. There are three streets that that turn into this alley.

Wrappers litter the sidewalk, graffiti is being painted on the fake brick walls, a shoe polish stand sits on the curb, along with a newspaper stand, next to a corner street light. This is your standard set dressing for this set. The light poles are stored behind this street. They wait patiently in between parts, or roles, I know this because I hang out inside the storage area with them now and again. It’s like a toy shead.

Jones Market-Set decorations for Uptown

We are not sure what show we are getting ready for. We do know that this set will have a security guard, the term known around here as a set watch. His job will be to watch out for … me!

We leave, knowing that when a set is decorated, whether it’s fancy or trashy, it will be accompanied by a badge. This trash is a Hot Set, which in Hollywood terminology, means it can not be touched. It’s ready to shoot.

This set will require daily surveying, since I don’t have call sheets on it, yet. Fortunately, we have peep holes that look straight down Brownstone. This way, less risk is involved and we will make our trespasses count. It’s been dangerous here lately…

What do you know… The next day, while looking down the street through our little hole, we see Al Black, the guard who has been after me, hot and heavy, lately, patrolling on foot. We are on the sidewalk, on the legal side of the fence. We call to him. He gladly comes over to talk, as he boosts himself up to a higher part of the fence in order to look over.

We casually pick up the conversation, like none of those hair-raising, security driven incidents even happened… like a forgiving mother. He is giving us the advance, like a walking call sheet.

Jimmy and I conclude: He is luring us into a trap!

Al tells us it is a “Sidney Poitier movie, with Bill Cosby,” then tells us the title. He gives us the shoot date and practically gives us an invitation to… Come on over.

Well, we do. Not to see him, of course. We take the bait, alright, but we will circumvent the traps. Jimmy and I joke, as we make our way back to the alley set. What if we get chased and have to run in front of the Panavision cameras for our escape?… “Remember to wave to the stars! We giggle, as we make our way to the set. Stranger things have happened.

It is day one of a One Day Shoot, on these Brownstone scenes.

We arrive and a cab is parked at the curb. Upon closer look, we see that it’s none other than Bill Cosby, driving the cab. Soon, we observe dialogue taking place between the two big stars, Poitier and Cosby, but we can’t quite make out the words. We can only watch from buildings across the way, so, we substitute our silliness, instead. Ironically, we can see the high school from the famous movie, The Blackboard Jungle, from this vantage point. It is a wonderful movie that we love to watch over and over, when it pops up on Ben Hunter’s matinées.

Sidney, along with Vic Morrow, play troubled students, Glenn Ford is the new teacher in town. That building still has a Public Library sign above it, last used in Soylent Green. We wonder what it must seem like for Sidney, who filmed that show in 1955. In 1965, Sidney filmed a Patch of Blue on the exact sidewalk that he stands on now. This is so surreal, we think, as we use our imaginations to relive those moments… just as Sidney probably does, himself, when he returns to these well-known sets. We can almost feel time warp itself into a different space, as it entwines the past into the present. It feels like a time machine.

It is hard to put the pleasure and satisfaction of this feeling, into words… it is like living a dream. It is as if we are skipping a stone on a pond and where it stops is where you’re at… like the wheel of fortune. Or, perhaps like opening the middle of a history book, and watching it come to life.

1955, 1965, 1973… its all here, on these wind swept streets just below us.

This would’ve ended up being a boring day, if it hadn’t been for our time tripping. No action today! We are getting spoiled!

But, there is a caterer and, yes, we are hungry, but guess who we spot off to the side?… Al Black. As if he is expecting us, he sits in a doorway on a folding chair… obviously waiting for something more than a meal.

We take it all in, realizing this show may be too dangerous to eat on. Some cab driving scenes are being filmed, as Big George pays a visit to the set on a golf cart. Al and George now collaborate, and we take advantage of this down time to make our exit. But first, while they gab, we grab. Teamster lunch has begun, always a half hour earlier than crew, because drivers start earlier than the rest of the folk. A specially prepaired lunch awaits us, we quickly assemble a to-go box. We are becoming addicted not only to these lots, but the food this environment contains. We look over our shoulders while stuffing this styrafoam container to the maximum. With the coast clear of security, Jimmy yields to temptation and grabs a piece of choclate cake as we disappear through adjacent doorways

We weave our way through back through the various labyrinthine web of alleyways and exits, alongside parked movie vehicles, always staying just out of view. But, we want a grand exit, so we fandangle our way, behind buildings, to a point where we can climb out safely. We want to be seen now, by MGM security so we climb an old section of fence that you can sit on top of. We wait and sure enough, seconds later our opportunity presents itself… We yell “See You Later” to the two guards who would just love the title of Top Hunter… having captured “The Most Wanted.”

They are too far to do anything. They simply stare, with a befuddled look, as we shout, wave and exit.

It was very nice of Al to feed us all the information needed to have this memory. The stiches left a nice scar from the last time we talked at the fence…anyways, plenty more food where that came from. Stay tuned!

All stories written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

 

Feeling the heat at MGM these days, we shift our attention to the Desilu backlot. This studio is so busy they can’t use dogs anymore… just older guys who sit in their vehicles, drinking something out of paper bags, for 12 hour shifts. Getting around these guys will be a piece of cake for my battle-tested hombres. It’s like a resort here on this backlot.

And this resort has alcohol for all. Across from our fort at Andy Griffith’s house is the giant church you see in every episode. It’s a Saturday, so no work is taking place, but there’s still a security guard. He sits on the Fortune set, which grows exponentially every day, in every direction. It’s an entire town, with a main street, gas stations and a southwest residential neighborhood. The guard on that set stays on that set. We- own the rest of this place and take full advantage.

We have had our eyes out for another rolling phone, like we had at the saloon. Today, Jimmy and I rolled into one, inside the church. As I call my house to see if it works, we notice a refrigerator and some church pews, that serve as seating. A coffee pot sits on a table. It’s like we found someone else’s fort.

The phone works! I dial off lot, just as Jimmy opens the fridge… low and behold it is packed with soda and beer. This is no fort… it’s a make-shift production office.

Where is the guard…  they must have one… Or, does the guy, 20 acres away, report here?

We can’t hook the phone up at Andy Griffith’s house, since the closest phone jack is inside this church. A shooting schedule is stapled to the wall. This is a Colt 45 commercial.

Set construction is to begin Monday, with a shoot day of Thursday. We don’t want to start off on the wrong foot, knowing we are going to hang out here for this shoot. We leave everything in tact, minus two tall cans of Colt 45, ice cold.

We can see where this set will be, as bundles of wood are sitting in the middle of Mayberry at the Four Street intersection in the center of town. You can see we do good homework, knowing how to read the advances, so we, too, can advance.

Below: This is the intersection where the set is being constructed. Each day this week, I pop in, to see the Colt 45 set getting built. 

 

 

Day One… There is much to do in a very short time, and the shifts go past dark as worklights illuminate the street. Much work gets done rapidly. The interior and exterior are being built independently, but simultaneously. The two story building interior is already framed. The front-side, or exterior will be involved in a dangerous, special effects collapse. It needs to fall in exactly the right way, as it is key to the entire shot. The front side is built on rollers, so it can slide into place, seamlessly.

Day Two… Since school gets in the way of my life, but I still have to go, I am amazed how much gets done, in the form of set construction, in the hours I miss. Just today, for example, set decorations are loading in, the interior already has bedrooms, there are clocks, paintings, and fancy tables and chairs. Painters are touching up the walls, carpets are laid down, and everything is very fancy. The exterior set is just a collapsing front, built specifically to fall, without resistance, on a signal by special effects in coordination with Stunts Unlimited.

Lots of prep needs to take place, since this is a classic one take scene.

Day Three… As I arrive today, the exterior has been put in front of the interior. Stunt men and effects rehearse in coordination like a symphony. I can’t get enough of this, I want to be a stuntman!

I have a big concern… this commercial that I have been watching since its inception may shoot before I can get to it. I have to go to class for a test on Thursday, and I’m very anxious about missing the shoot. I put all this time into watching and learning how this movie stuff is done. This… is my school!

Yet… I may end up missing the money shot…

Day Four… Shoot day at the studio. Test day for me. After the test, I cut out at lunch and skip P.E. My mom will have to make up an excuse. Gerald and Danny and Jimmy will meet me after they finish school, but I’m in a hurry. Class dismissed!

As I arrive, I am immediately caught up in all the activity and goings on. The finished  product has brought this street to life. Transportation has parked trailers on the street below me. The typical equipment I see on all my sets. Make up and wardrobe, a High Noon honeywagon, and a Winnebago for the star, Mr. Foxx.

The set is complete. The front of the hotel has been put in place. There is an outdoor cafe in front of the entrance. It all looks very posh. There are tables with fancy table cloths, shiney goblets and elegant napkins. Waiter activity and dialogue are being filmed.

I watch from a second story window. I notice a big burly guard walking around with a lasso rope, practicing roping things around the set.

I think… thats an interesting method to catch someone… I wonder where his horse is… Choose your weapon, Cowboy!

I see the star sitting at a table, drinking Colt 45’s. It is Redd Foxx… My dad loves him, and I’m the one that gets to see him act. I realize the shots being filmed are the ones that need to be done first, before the front collapses. It buys us the time we need to deal with the problem of… school.

I see my friends starting to show up and so I sneak down to direct them to a perfect vantage point, while the director finishes up with the A Unit and the star. The B Unit—which is stunts and effects—takes over. It’s just stunts and effects now.

We pass around a fat doobie and wait for what’s next. Two black stuntmen now sit where Redd Foxx was just downing the syrup with his cohort. They look and dress the same as the stars.

There is a nervous tension and quietness on the set, as a final run through takes place. Finally, all the cameras are in place. Two are on the ground and unmanned by operators, with plexi-glass in front of the lenses, to prevent damage.

The countdown begins, as the stuntmen pick up where the actors left off. The director yells ACTION, and in a flash, all this work concludes in a calculated pile of rubble.

Slowly, as the dust clears… you see the two stuntmen/actor doubles sitting at the table drinking their Colt 45’s, like nothing happened. Redd Foxx is inserted back into his chair, at the table, like it was he who sat there the entire time. Close ups and final dialogue and a Colt 45 toast concludes the day.

Mr Foxx is then driven off in a Limo… what a day!

Bravo, Stunts Unlimited… Applause from the kids upstairs. This business is all about stunts and effects. When I get older, I know what I want to be… One of those guys who gets shot, does car chases, gets lit on fire, and can jump from horse to horse. Or… just sit and have cocktails while buildings collapse.

In the meantime, I will just have to light my plastic army men on fire, play with my gunpowder, crash my Hot Wheels, and run from police.

Stay tuned…

All stories written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

Time is not on our side. This is like a noose being tightened around our necks. The police know our names and are heavily involved. Banditos Yankees… it seems like the end for Butch and Sundance, as trooper after trooper takes action. Maybe our ending will be different.

It is as if Jimmy and I are inside a huge box that is being disected. Fortunately, nightime has set in. We have to abandon our fort, knowing it will eventually be discovered. No good hiding places are presenting themselves on this rooftop. We hear the posse getting closer; they are on the level right below us. It sounds like an army. Out of ideas, and almost out of time, we look up to the sky for help, and help smiles back, in the form of a chimney.

Yes, that’s it… it has no ladder, so we need to devise a way to climb inside it. The chimney sits eight feet above the rooftop. Quickly, I have Jimmy cup his hands together, as I place my foot into our makeshift ladder. Now that I’m up, I reach down for him, and we both wiggle ourselves into this movie prop. It barely fits both of us inside, as we stand on a two by four. Fake bricks provide the cover we need. You would have to stare straight up the chute with a flash light to find us.

We see the road below, loaded with police, surrounding this entire set. No escape is possible. This is a game of hide and seek. Small pin holes in the fabricated stone allow us to look beyond the chimney, in order to watch and listen, as events unfold. Danny is being driven off to jail…. I’m like a guest at my own funeral!

We have a policeman on the roof now, with who else… Al Black. The same guy who tried pulling me off the fence last week and the reason I have stiches. Light flashes below our feet in the chimney. Al, and the police, are clearing this quadrant we are perched in… it is time for the rubber to meet the roof.

First, the policeman, standing exactly a foot away, gets on the radio and says “east roof top clear.” That moment broke the tension. We can barely contain our huge smiles; we did it! The police officer exits, while Al sits… depressed… not believing we our gone. He sits… he stares at the moon in denial, as we stare at him.

Our little hole might as well be a bank vault. This tight squeeze chimney is our shelter. We outsmarted them again. Al’s head barely moves, as he sits… and sits… and sits some more. Jimmy and I talk without speaking and laugh without laughing, like pantomimes. All the while, watching Al light up a cigarette… as he sits… and the smoke blows into our chimney. Two owls sit on the church steeple rooting for us… hoot hoot, and wondering what all of this activity is all about.

Hours have gone by and this is still Breaking News, until the police finally yell, extra loudly, “Lets get out of here!”

We think it all seems suspicious… the way this is staged, like a director yelling “it’s a wrap!”

Police announce their exit… hmm.

All the cars, one by one, rev their engines and leave. You couldn’t have staged a more grandiose exit. We don’t know for sure if our suspicions are correct, but we are running out of time and have already been up here for three hours. So, we climb down cautiously, one story at a time, expecting to find someone hiding. Low and behold, as we get down to the second story, a dark suit runs across a a light colored dirt road. This was police headquarters just minutes ago. We have been set up! And we took the bait! Shoot!

We hustle back to the top of this building, through all the mazes and shafts and secret ladders, all by feel and in the pitch dark. Quickly, we get back up inside our chimney.… It is like a castle turret tonight. Here come the police cars, and the bronco, and the security cart, with Al Black and Big George, both licking their chops for another round in… Most Wanted! 

The only person not here is Robert Vaughn as the Man from U.N.C.L.E.!

Al is doing his best Richard Roundtree/Shaft impression, to say the least… 

We have seen this movie and we know how it will end. They do not have any idea about us, nor our chimney hide out. 

Act two begins with… “Search the rooftop again! We know they’re up there!” Hours go by… this remake is longer than the first episode.

This event started at dusk, and it has been dark forever, which feels like all night. We have no idea what time it is.

Finally… it sounds like they’re leaving, for real… it’s about time! A low profile police exit… no announcements… just a simple drive off… now go get your donuts! 

We, of course, must not trust anything. Everything is a hiding place for the police, also. The tables have turned a bit, now. So, we climb down super quietly, already planning to run our course to the fence… some parts hidden, but most parts wide open.

3, 2, 1… we takeoff running, expecting God knows what. It’s like jumping out of a plane in the dark… but my guardian angel easily supplies us with an exit. A little Jo Jo Gunne tune for the road ahead…

Above: pictures from Man from Uncle TV Series… The chimney on the right side is where story takes place.

We are in stunned disbelief of what just happened. How could we escape all that man power? As fun as this was, and as scary as this was, it was also very intoxicating. Trespassing is becoming very difficult… for the Most Wanted!

We end this event tonight by paying Danny “the snitch” a visit, since his bedroom light is on. Knock, knock… he answers the door with Jerry Dunphy on the 11 O”clock news on the TV behind him.

I quip first ,”so it’s 11?”

Danny responds “where have you guys been?”

“Hiding” … we both respond with mean looks and crooked eyes.

“This late?” he chimes in…

“Freedom has no clock, nor is it free!” I proudly dictate to the snitch, in my best Mark Twain.

“Funny thing is… they knew our names,” Jimmy points out.

“I had no choice…” Danny says, defensively. (The famous company line).

He continues: ”I was brought to jail and booked… my mom came and picked me up… I had two joints in my pants the entire time, at the station, which they never found, but I was so so scared!”

“We had some close moments ourselves, cry baby!” I mutter…

“OK, all is well Danny, because the chimney wouldn’t fit three anyhow.”

“See you at school tomorrow,” we say, as we all head in different directions. 

 Above: These four photos show the views we have from this chimney area, top one has side of the chimney.

Above: The fort, as you climb through the maze.

Above, The Fort

Above: A “postcard” for security, painted by Jimmy. Jolly is the Captain, who we never see… only hear about. George, Bob, and Al are our before mentioned adversaries… we know eventually this place will be discovered, so we left this little “sorry we missed you” message.

All stories written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

Things are going swimmingly well at my new public country club named Culver Middle School. I have an English teacher named Debbie Z. who will become my mentor. I quickly come to feel that she understands me. I tell her all about my studio adventures and she says “it sounds fun.”

Maureen has Debbie for typing class, later in the day. What a blessing!… I quickly find out that I already know the work! This school is almost two years behind St. Augustine. The nuns I’ve had already covered all of this!

Bless their hearts. They made me smart… at Catholic school.

I will take advantage of my good fortune as the school year moves forward.

Tonight, Jimmy, Danny and I, go onto the MGM lot to do a reconnaissance mission. We call it Boots on the Ground intelligence. We work hand in hand with call sheets when I can get ‘em, but they’re not always at my disposal. So, while the guards make their rounds, we perform our own daily check ins, just to see what activities are being set up and what new stuff has appeared. I’m stilll walking with a handful of stiches and a mindful of paranoia, leftover from my last visit. I can still hear Al’s voice “I’m gonna get you!”…Like on a tape loop.

The man hired specifically to capture me is on patrol this evening. And it is rapidly turning to dusk. We see a big blonde Sasquatch type individual crammed inside the red Bronco, as we peer down from some windows on New York Street. He drives slowly, looking around, and taking it all in. This is the same fool that we peppered with lemons a short time back. But, I would rather deal with him than Mr. Black.

As we work our way back through New York Street, our intentions are to go up to the fort we have, at Boystown. This is the place Maureen helped to decorate and construct, back on the 4th of July. It has become a regular destination for trespassers who know of its existence, like an oasis in the desert.

The studio fence is a long distance from both the main NY St., called 5th Ave., and the Boystown fort. These structures reside in the middle of this humongous backlot. As we scurry door to door, and building to building, we misjudge our safe moment. Just as we step out, Barner turns the corner and stares us down… 

We freeze like three deer in the headlights. Make that four deer… the three of us and George, himself. He stares back from inside the jeep. Suddenly, he steers in the opposite direction and speeds up… away from us!

Well, that was weird. Without giving it a moment’s thought, we take advantange of this opportunity, by running the rest of the way down New York Street, through the forest, over the little footbridge, across Tarzan’s lake, and across the dirt road that circles Boystown. We catch our breath in the front door entrance to this large university-type building.

Dr John says it best in his song- Right Place Wrong Time

No truer words… Dr John. You say you are a doctor, thats always handy around here.

It’s here that we make urgent decisions. We all speculate… Is he getting reinforcements?  Danny thinks he can run for it and decides take off, while Jimmy and I decide to climb up this maze and hide up in our fort. Jimmy and I go upwards as Danny goes outwards.

We get to the top and what do you know? As we peek over the edge, we see the Bronco leading a convoy…

This convoy includes six CCPD police cars, followed by an electric cart with that man, Al Black, frantically taking up the rear position of this procession. Like a black and white parade…

Well, at least they don’t know where we are!

We can see almost the entire lot from up here, and we see Danny get captured instantly… that didn’t take long! This is Culver High’s Football star running back! That’s the best ya got, Danny ? 

The police have him cuffed and face down. He talks briefly to officers as he is loaded up in one of the many squad cars and driven away. We see him staring upwards as he explains himself. “He’s ratting us out!…We quickly realize!” 

Well, the next thing you hear is a police mega-phone with both my name and Jimmy’s name being belched out. Our complete names! They never even knew our names and now they have the complete name. And maybe even our addresses and what we had for breakfast! The officers want us to give up and they know we are up here… thanks to a squealing Danny!

Threats include: “YOU WILL HAVE TO DRY CLEAN OUR UNIFORMS IF YOU DON’T SURRENDER NOW!”

We reject that option and realize… our fort will be discovered by this army of law enforcement...You would think we just robbed a bank with all this fuss!

We need to come up with an ad-lib plan… immediately.

Stay tuned for part two.

All stories written and lived by Donnie Norden
Edited by DQ

It may appear that this lifestyle I’m living comes almost a bit too easy. Everything appears to be so simple. But, it’s not! What I can never convey to my non trespassing friends is all the fear and anxiety I feel. All the time! I have to watch every step and every move. My kingdom could come crashing down on me at any moment. It could be pulled from my grasp, in an instant, by grown-up men with badges and guns.

There is no room for complacency when all you see is trespassing and loitering forbidden by law. First we have to surmount this fence, before dealing with highly paid security guards that always seem to be lurking behind everything.

It’s Saturday evening. Jimmy and I have just finished watching the LA Kings lose to the Canadians at Montreal, in a surprisingly tough 1-0 game. Ken Dryden was too much in nets and a 3rd period goal by Yvan Cournoyer could not be overcome. Post game, we head to MGM, to catch a little buzz…

We’re still talking puck as we climb the train station’s metal fence. We make the usual noise, which would be tennis shoes kicking the fence, as we scale it, along with the barb wire pole that runs along side it. We add dialogue to all the kicking sounds, as Jimmy can’t get enough of saying Cournoyer…in French. Yes, we are being a bit too nonchalant, I suppose. Lesson learned.

Anyway, as our shoes touch down on the forbidden side, to start our journey. It’s pitch dark. Our eyes are still adjusting to the blindness, as we walk towards the first series of trains… which would be the Pullmans. As Jimmy is still muttering French hockey terms, I see a dark silhouette jump from the train car’s backdoor and hit the ground running… straight for us.

We have a twenty foot advantage as we slam on our brakes, then pivot around to retrace our steps. We run back over our freshly laid steps. The distance advantage we have, quickly disappears, since… we must climb this fence again, together, at the same time.

We are pros at this, but we drew a bad card: Security Guard Al Black is in hot pursuit. I look down from the top of the fence, as he reaches up, just I’m about to pivot and jump to freedom… He catches my hand, as I jump, cutting it severely along the top of this razor-thin, top edge that we must swing our body over, in order to enter. And in this case, to exit.

My heart pounds so hard, it’s about to leap out of my chest, as I realize I made it… sort of!

Al stands on a cross beam looking down at me. I’m tracking blood everywhere… it’s on top of the fence, it’s on my clothes, it’s even on the train tracks I’m standing on… Al mutters, “I’ll get you next time”… as I look up, all bloody and teary eyed. He looks down, all sweaty, with steam puffs, rising up off of his head, while breathing hard. This is a very intense moment… too close for comfort. The closest call I have yet to experience in this place.

I run to catch up with Jimmy, no longer speaking French, as we run home to get me some first aid. I quickly realize this is quite the long gash and pressure is not stopping this. Band aids can’t stop the flow as my my mom’s kitchen becomes an emergency room. Useless band aids litter the sink, I need some help. This is more than I can fix and luckily my parents are pulling up now from a nice relaxing dinner.

My greeting them in the driveway is a harbinger that I may need assistance. I confirm that by waving at them with a blood stained T-shirt.  Whatever they have planned will have to wait. My dad’s 57 Chevy is now an ambulance. I spare the details, some things are better left unsaid, anyways. It’s not like this is my first trip to an emergency room. This evening ends with mom and me at the hospital, my ex- firefighter dad doesn’t seem to care, but mom always does. Probably why she always says” just be careful Donnie!” We conclude with six stiches at the nearby emergency clinic. Thank God Dad’s got good insurance at the Santa Monica Big Blue Bus!

Pictures show front and backside of the fence where the incident took place.
POV both sides.

This song and band are at the top of the charts as this story took place. Let’s just say it fits!

Blood, Sweat, and Tears and Spinning Wheel...

My mind can’t help doctor up this for the neighborhood kids, look at me, I’m all bandaged up. You can tell I’ve had my fun. “It’s dangerous over at MGM, you’re better off staying home and just watching TV.” I tell a small crowd of well wishers when I return home. Jimmy and Maureen want to actually see the wound, I display it proudly. Living my lunch pail is dangerous, but this scar is like an MGM tattoo. I’m proud of it. After all, I did get away!

Maureen’s Story—

It’s 6PM and still warm outside. I’m getting ready to go out with Donnie. I guess you could call it a date. I told my mom I was going to the movies with Tracy and that it lets out at 10:30pm. I have all bases covered. I’m wearing Levi’s 501s, worn out in strategic places, a top that shows an inch of my tan, and my favorite tiger’s eye necklace. It’s not too sexy, but it makes me feel grown up. I carry a small brush in my pocket and a Bonne Bell cherry lip gloss. It’s sticky but it adds to my grown up look.  

We make the trek across town to Desilu. I am pretty excited. I have never been to this back lot before. Donnie has brought a knapsack this time. I am so curious about what’s inside. The best entrance is from the creek. Donnie informs me there are attack dogs inside… so be extra quiet at all times. This makes my legs a little wobbly.    

Donnie shows me where Gomer Pyle’s barracks are. It’s located next to where the Hogan’s Heroes set was. We climb up a ladder inside one of the guard towers. “What’s in the knapsack?” I ask. “Not yet,” he replies, like he’s got a very specific plan… “hold your horses.”   

We continue to explore. The sun doesn’t set until after 8:00 on these summer nights, but it is getting dark now… like some colossal reminder that time is ticking. Donnie opens the doors to what looks like a barn, and says “Voila!” I stand in shock. It is an exact replica of a setting that I told him about. I had been reading a love story novel and told him about a chapter that I found to be particularly romantic. It seemed he was only barely listening, as I was describing this tale. “Silly girl stuff,” he grumbled. Well, he listened all right…

Just last semester, my teacher allowed me to read this romance novel for book report credit if I verbally summarized each chapter to him (to prove I was actually reading). He found it thoroughly titillating. I got an A. Both of my sisters also burned through this novel after I was finished with it.  Hot, hot stuff.

I am overwhelmed. Down to the last detail. A barn, a pile of hay, well you get the picture. How incredibly romantic… How thought out and sweet. All this for me? But, my wave of giddiness is now being replaced with the feeling that I am walking straight into a lion’s den. Legs wobbly again.

So, now, what is in the knapsack? A small blanket, two lukewarm cans of Bud tall beers, that he swears will not be noticed missing from his dad’s collection, a flashlight, and the newest issue of Mad magazine (our favorite). The beer is strangely delicious. There is plenty of moonlight outside, but not enough to read the magazine. We are reading by flashlight. We put the blanket over our heads so that no guards, who may happen by, can see the light. There’s nothing more romantic than reading Spy vs. Spy by flashlight. Donnie turns the flashlight out. We are doing our best to kiss like they do in the movies. We are really, really getting the hang of it. Our chemistry is dangerous and it’s hard to control. This complicates things, I think. I remind Donnie of my strict curfew. We still have to trek across town to make it home by 10:30. “Wake up little Susie!”  

Donnie says he needs a minute to cool down before we run across town.  Secretly, I do too. Whoa Nelly!  At my front steps we usually share an awkward good night kiss, but tonight our kiss conjures up all the naughty feelings inside us, all over again. He pulls the last strands of hay from my hair.  

Tonight, I will revel in a romantic memory. Tomorrow, I will do my best to steer clear of the barn.

Story by Maureen Miller
Edited by DQ

Maureens sad day…her story.

We had just moved into an apartment a couple blocks away from our house. No pets allowed, but I did keep Fred, a goldfish I won from a fair. I even bought him a bridge for his bowl.

A Grim Discovery—

On coming home from school today, I notice that Fred had jumped over the bridge, right out of his bowl, and is now behind my dresser. Must have flopped around back there until he drew his last breath.

Our beloved pets of the past were all buried in our yard at our old house: Friggin the cat, Willard the rat and a stray bird that we tried to save, were all there. I live in an apartment now, with no dirt, and no place to bury Fred. But, there is plenty of dirt across the street, at MGM. Donnie showed me the way in… Should I?

The Burial—

I quickly change my clothes. I am wearing the army pants I got from The Surprise Store. T-shirt, hair in bun. I look like a soldier. A soldier on a mission. A mission to bury Fred. I put Fred in a brown paper lunch sack and grab a spoon for digging, before heading out.

I climb the telephone pole with the barbed wire to get inside. I go to the little river where Donnie and I have ventured. Fred would want to be buried by the water. I dig him a little grave, put him in, say, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” and then cover him up with dirt. I put some eucalyptus caps in the shape of a heart, and am ready to get the heck out.

I go back to my exit place and think to myself… Well, I’m already in… why not explore a little? Maybe even brag to Donnie a little, about how far I ventured on my own. So, I start off.

Soldier On—

I continue straight ahead. The other side of the fence is Culver Blvd., but you never even think of that busy street when you’re inside. Two different worlds entirely. I march on. The boys in my neighborhood growing up would never invite me to play army with them, but I am playing now. I come upon a stray cat. It is meowing at me like it wants me to pet it, but when I come close, it is skittish. Yet, it keeps teasing me to come closer. It runs to a structure that looks like a house, then to another one… leading me into open space, which I know is not smart, but I soldier on.

Mission Aborted—

Then the dreaded noise! The jeep! Shit! Did he see me?  

I look like a boy. I hope I don’t get shot with a salt rock. The guard comes tearing out of nowhere right toward us. We split up. I do a baseball slide under a house, just to find that the back was fake and completely missing. A small bush is my camouflage. I see the cat jump over the fence and right out of here. That is not a viable option for me. Too tall, too sharp at the top, no foothold. Donnie would be so disappointed in me if I get caught.

I wait. My legs are shaking involuntarily, and I just keep silent. I wait for what feels like hours. And actually… it probably has been. I decide to give up. I wave my arms in the air in surrender. If I had a white flag I would be waving it. I only have a spoon, which I’ve been clenching so tightly, that I can barely straighten out my fingers.

No guard. He has long gone. I surrender all the way back to my exit point. How embarrassing to surrender (to no one) all the way across the lot. I will NOT be bragging about this. RIP Fred.

Story by Maureen Miller