Photo by Robert Burroughs
Andy Anderson, right; Mark Jennings, left. “This was a dead-stick tow, dead stick is when you have no power on the ship.
“We’d come out here at low tide, bring the working hands out to the job, they’d work off the boat. We moved the tires that ring the bridge piers. They were state workers so they didn’t work too hard. We were sitting there three o’clock one morning, taking a break, and this one guy was telling ghost stories about people jumping off the bridge. All of a sudden that little two-man submarine popped up.”
Photo by Robert Burroughs
I have decided that if there is any true wilderness left in San Diego County it will probably be found on the San Diego River between the Santa Ysabel Valley and the El Capitan Reservoir.
Their inability to tack against the wind cost the novices three agonizing hours from the time they reached Mission Bay until they landed. Somewhere in the bay there was a slip Rusty had rented at which to dock his boat, but he wasn’t sure where it was. At 8:00 p.m. Tuesday evening. Rusty and Albert finally brought the Shangri La in, running her aground near Campland, north of Fiesta Island. They had spent fifty-six hours at sea.
Dopey and his friends flashed Red Steps hand signs back at the occupants of the white car as it headed toward Crosby Street. Dopey goes on to tell the jury that one of his homeboys crossed the street, leaving him and Nene on the sidewalk in front of the park’s sandbox. Dopey saw the white car coming back west on National Avenue. The driver turned off the headlights. Someone stuck a gun out of the car.
By Rory Perry, July 6, 1989 | Read full article
Laotian girl flashes gang sign. The Lao and Cambodian kids of today’s gangs never saw the war.
Photo by Robert Burroughs Archie Moore, 1985. The swimming pool in the shape of a boxing glove is empty now, and I-15 traffic rumbles constantly alongside Moore’s weedy lot.
Caught looking.
Tony Gwynn sat in a canvas-backed chair and peered into the wooden cubicle in front of him. “What’s in my locker?” he asked, repeating the question that had been posed to him. “Well, here’s a rubber stamp that says “Tony Gwynn’ on it. I’ve never used it. Here’s a ball of putty that I squeezed to strengthen my arm when I hurt it earlier this year. And here’s a media guide from the All-Star game. Other than that,” he said, scanning the walls and shelves of the locker, “I’ve just got the usual bats, gloves, underwear, and shoes.”