We were feeling pretty good as we pulled up to a red light on a Salt Lake City intersection. We had arrived earlier from California, and we were getting ready for Greg’s bachelor party. It was the end of the summer of 1969. My car was full of young adult males looking for a good time. As it happens, a Salt Lake City police car pulled up to the same intersection in the lane to the left of me. I had vampire teeth in my mouth, and so I decided to give the police officer next to me a big smile. Some how, this police officer didn’t share my sense of humor, and as the light turned green, he put his blinking red lights on and pulled in behind me. I had no choice but to pull over on the other side of the intersection as I put my glow-in-the-dark fangs in my shirt pocket.
Now I have a cautious police officer approaching the side of my car with his hand above the firearm on his hip. I put my hands on the steering wheel and waited for instructions. He has me give him my license and registration, and I’m told to wait. He goes back to his patrol car and starts checking my IDs. In the meantime, two more patrol cars arrive and park in front of me. I have suddenly become someone of interest. Soon, an officer tells me to get out of the car. The three patrolmen look me up and down and tell me to walk to the front of the car and back. I’m then told to get back in the car. All this time, I’m not told why I was pulled over. I figured I had dissed the policeman, and he was showing me who had the power. After, what seemed a long time, the original police officer comes to the side of my car and gives back my license and registration. I ask why I was pulled over, and he said I met the general description of a jewelry store robbery suspect. I was then told I could go. That was my introduction to the Salt Lake City police department, but it wouldn’t be our last encounter that night.
Rick, Bill, and I were high school best friends from the swimming and water polo teams. Norm was a friend of Rick and his older brother, Greg. He was going to be in Greg’s wedding party along with Rick. The day before, Rick, Bill, and I picked up Norm in Redwood City, CA, and headed out to Salt Lake City, to attend Greg’s wedding. Road trip!!! There was a lot of anticipation in the car for a great weekend. We hit I-80 and headed east toward Lake Tahoe and the High Sierras. It was a bright sunny day and the traffic was thinning. As we hit the long stretches of road in the Nevada desert, I tested the concept that there weren’t really any speed limits. We finally needed gas, so we pulled into a gas station about 30 miles from the Utah border. Thanks to my dad, I had his Enco gas credit card. We soon were on the road again.
We were in rolling hills with long sweeping curves. As we were driving along the road, I noticed that the gas gauge was below the full mark. I thought I had filled the tank, so I thought this odd. As we progressed further down the road, the gauge continued to drop. I thought this was also strange. I then noticed that there seemed to be a cloud of mist behind the car, and the back window was a little fogged up. After smelling gasoline, I finally put two and two together. I was leaking gasoline at a pretty high rate. So our situation was turning bleak. We were basically a ticking time bomb rolling down the road. All we needed was a fuse. We could either explode in a ball of flames or run out of gas in the middle of nowhere. This wasn’t good.
After many turns, and ups and downs, and tense moments, we finally saw signs of a town. We had some hope. We were approaching the border town of Wendover, Nevada/Utah. As luck would have it, we found an Enco gas station and pulled in. Fortunately, they had a mechanic on duty, and he diagnosed the problem as a failed fuel pump. Lady Luck was shinning on us, as they actually had a fuel pump in town and was able to have it fixed in a few hours.
Well, what was there to do in Wendover, Nevada? Within walking distance, we found a casino that sits right next to the Utah border. We decided to try our luck in the casino while we waited for our car to be fixed. Rick, Bill, and I were only 20, but Norm happened to be a little older, and it actually was legal for him to be there. No one asked for our IDs as we entered the casino. This was a typical small town casino in Nevada. This one had the advantage of being the first one you came to when you entered Nevada from Utah. One of the casino’s biggest features was Big Bertha. Big Bertha was an enormous slot machine that was positioned right next to the entrance. This was 1969, and Big Bertha was a $1 slot machine with a $100 jackpot. A hundred dollars in 1969 was a big deal to 20-somethings.
We walked past Big Bertha and entered the bright lights, the dinging bells, and the thick smoke of the casino. We drifted off and wandered through the maze and soon found novel ways to give our money to the house. There was the machine that had quarters hanging over the edge. You only had to add your quarters to knock all of those other quarters off the edge and into my pocket. Unfortunately, they just added to the quarters that hung on. There was black jack, roulette, and nickel slot machines. Finally, it was time to leave and pick up my car. We were being a little loud and boisterous as we left. On a whim, Norm decided to put his last silver dollar in Big Bertha as we left. Wouldn’t you know it, luck was still on our side, and Big Bertha started dinging and banging and flashing and blasting. Norm hit the jackpot!!!
Well, we were on a timeline. The gas station was about to close, and we had to get our car. We didn’t really have time to celebrate our jackpot winnings, and we just took our money and left. We didn’t know about casino etiquette and didn’t clear the slot machine. We didn’t stay and spend our winnings, either. We didn’t feel the love when we cashed out and left in a hurry. It was a good thing that Norm won the jack pot, being as any of the rest of us were under age. Thanks to my dad’s credit card, the car was fixed and ready to go. I’m glad we had the gas card, because I don’t think Norm would have wanted to share his winnings to pay for the car. I’m not sure my dad wanted to pay for my fuel pump, either, but he did give me his credit card.
Party time!!! We were staying at Rick’s Salt Lake City rental. Rick was swimming for the University of Utah, and was about to begin his junior year there. His house was perfect for Greg’s bachelor’s party. We didn’t know much about what exactly we were supposed to do at such an affair, other than drinking large amounts of alcohol. One problem with this plan was that Greg didn’t drink. He is Mormon, and was marrying someone who was a strict Mormon. We really didn’t let that get in our way of having a good bachelor’s party, though.
The centerpiece of this party, at least in my eyes, was the punch. It was a fruit punch that had floating pieces of real fruit in it. What was remarkable about the fruit was that it had been soaking in a bottle of Everclear overnight. This was my introduction to Everclear. Everclear is 190 proof grain alcohol. That’s 95% pure alcohol. You can’t get Everclear just anywhere, especially in Utah. All liquor in Utah must be purchased in a State liquor store. I’m not sure if this came from there or another state, but I couldn’t get it in California when I returned. Besides the fruit and Everclear, the punch included fruit juice and maybe some Rum. Anyway, this powerful concoction lived up to its name and gave us quite a punch!
I can’t remember all of the activities we did before we went out that night. I remember playing a drinking game, and I remember Greg being very nervous about the whole affair. At some point, we were through with the drinking games and wanted some action. Rick had a Yield traffic sign on the wall of his bedroom. Norm thought it was so cool. He wanted a Yield sign as well, or maybe a Stop sign. “Hey, let’s go out and find a traffic sign!” Either Greg thought this was a terrible idea, or he had already left the party. Soon, Norm had some tools in his hand and was ready to go. I had to finish eating my strawberries and swallow the last of my drink!
Rick lived in a busy residential area that had a major connecting road running through it. The houses in the neighborhood were well built on large city lots. They had long sweeping front lawns that slopped down to the street with large well-trimmed bushes that were in planter boxes near the homes.
It wasn’t long before Norm found the sign he wanted. Unfortunately for Norm, he was having a hard time getting the bolts off with his screwdriver and crescent wrench. The rest of us got antsy and decided to split up. I’m not sure where Bill went, but Rick and I split off together. We had no interest in obtaining traffic signs and wandered off into the neighborhood. Rick and I hadn’t seen each other for awhile, and we had a lot of catching up to do. After walking and talking for awhile, we sat on the lawn of a random house and continued talking. As I stated, we had some major catching up to do. I had lost my younger brother in a bicycle accident, and it was very helpful to me to talk with Rick about my feelings of loss and how this all fit into the cosmic scheme of things. We were deep in conversation, when we noticed a police car, with its lights blinking, rushing down a street near us. We continued our discussion. We then noticed another patrol car driving slowly up the street we were on. He was using his spotlight to search the lawns and bushes of the houses on the street. We decided we already had enough of Salt Lake City policemen that night and stealthily crawled up the lawn toward the house and hid behind a couple of thick cypress bushes. Sure enough, the patrol car continued up the street and was soon shinning its searchlight on our bushes. We didn’t move, and we were undetected. After the patrol car disappeared, we came out of hiding and decided to go home and see what was going on.
As we walked into the house, It seemed like central control was in full operation. It was about 4:00 in the morning, so it was too early to call some, and too late for others. Everyone was agitated, but they were thrilled to see us. Evidently, we were the last ones to return from our outing. Soon, I noticed that Norm was wearing handcuffs. What’s up with that? Well, that’s why everyone was so worried and relieved that we had returned safely.
As was told to us, after Norm was left trying to get his Yield sign, a police car pulled in and stopped him. They put him in handcuffs and put him in their patrol car. None of us went out with IDs as a precaution, so that was added to the charge of being in possession of burglary tools. “John Doe” was transported a couple of blocks to a waiting paddy wagon. Now, he was in a fix. He had his hands handcuffed behind his back and he was sitting in a paddy wagon. The paddy wagon had a window, and Norm could see that the policemen were in front of the paddy wagon and were deep in conversation. The back door of the paddy wagon was open. After some effort and desperation, Norm was able to get his hands in front of him. He decided to go for it and bolted out the back and over a fence and ran through back yards and jumped more fences and somehow evaded the pursuing patrolmen and arrived back at the house.
I’m a little fuzzy on the facts, but I think Greg was back at Rick’s house, trying to be the fixer. We somehow had evaded the police, although they were still rushing around the streets like there had been a major incident. Now we had everyone at the house, but Norm unfortunately was wearing a set of Salt Lake City handcuffs. This wouldn’t work very well for Greg’s formal wedding which was happening that day.
Rick was on the phone, and soon we were off to a friend’s house who had a hacksaw. This friend lived in a nearby town, so time became a factor. The metal of the handcuffs were hardened which made it very difficult and time consuming to saw through. Finally, Norm was free, and we made it back in time to attend the wedding.
It was a beautiful wedding, and everyone looked really nice in their formal clothing. It was especially nice that no one was wearing hand cuffs. I remember poor Greg was unnecessarily put through the wringer, but it all turned out. They recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, so hopefully we didn’t cause too much lasting grief. I’m sure Norm proudly displayed those handcuffs on his wall. The handcuffs, with “Salt Lake City Police Department” engraved on the side was way cooler than a Yield sign.
Swagerty-Aldrich Family Web Site 