Bal Week blues

Deepa Bharath

When Gay Wassall-Kelly first saw the phenomenon that was Bal Week, she

was barely 10 -- a little girl peeping out of a bay window in her

parents’ vacation home barely two blocks away from the Balboa Fun Zone.

Years later, Kelly became a part of it all. And in her mind’s journal,

those were the memories written with indelible ink.

Late fifties. Swing music. Enchanting nights by the bay. There

definitely was a dash of spring that so easily and quickly mixed with the

sandy, salty, fishy aroma of the beach.

Come spring break, high school students would flock to the Fun Zone.

Those were the days when all schools broke at the same time -- Easter

week. And that was indeed the time of year that also came to be known as

Bal Week.

The Fun Zone at spring break is nothing like that now. Little children

circle their parents. There are empty docks with an occasional kid riding

his razor scooter. Seagulls are the only creatures that make a racket.

But during Bal Week, it was much, much more.

“It was all kids and clean wonderful fun,” said Kelly, summing up the

annual event that had assumed a shape, form and character of its own.

IN THE ‘50S

But then, it was also tailored to fit the times. In the ‘50s, nothing

went out of control, she said.

“The worst thing boys did was to have a duck tail, and the worst thing

a girl could do was to wear a two-piece bathing suit.”

Kids had harmless parties in their vacation homes when their parents

were out, probably sunbathing on the beach.

They would stack up pyramids with empty beer cans on their windows,

and the teens would pick and choose what party they wanted to go to based

on whose pyramid looked more inviting. Many evenings and nights unfolded

to the music of Benny Goodman’s swing band at the Rendezvous Ballroom.

Kelly hung out with her friends at the beach. The Fun Zone was then at

a lower level and actually had some sand by the bay.

“There was this one time,” recalled Kelly, “I was sitting on the beach

with my friends and this guy walked by. We knew right away he was a

tourist because he was wearing shorts, socks and leather shoes on the

beach.”

The girls laughed at the out-of-towner, and when he asked them why

they were laughing, Kelly told him that on the beach people were either

barefoot or wore sandals.

“Then two days later we saw him on the beach again, limping,” Kelly

said. “He said he’d slipped while walking with sandals. We felt really

bad.”

The story is still fresh in Kelly’s memory, as are the nights she went

dancing at the Rendezvous. The parties and kids never annoyed her, said

Kelly.

“Maybe it bothered my parents,” she added with a laugh.

ENTER THE ‘60S

But by the mid-60s, the innocence and pure fun of it all had been

sucked out of Bal Week. What was once a much anticipated event of the

year assumed a frightening appearance, transforming itself into the week

from hell -- a virtual nightmare for the police.

Every spring break during those years, the event was marred by drunken

brawls, traffic gridlock and arrests that filled up Newport Beach jail.

In 1965, then-new Police Chief Jim Glavas, made a record 1,000 arrests

during spring break -- a time referred by many as the “Easter invasion”

on Balboa Island.

Bal Week began to deteriorate after 1966, when the Rendezvous burned

down, and ultimately ceased in 1971.

Newport Beach Police Officer Bob Rivers, who patrols the Fun Zone

these days, remembers the wild, not-so-good years of Bal Week.

“It used to be a cool thing to come out here,” he said. “It used to be

cool for kids to cruise around here.”

The traffic became so bad that fire vehicles could not get in to take

care of medical aid calls.

Rivers came himself in the ‘60s, when he was in high school.

“There were kids drinking and just hanging out,” he said. “I didn’t

get drunk or get arrested, but a lot of that was going on.”

Though Bal Week ended as a tradition, the spring break rioting and

brawling continued into the late eighties. Rivers remembers responding to

a call near the Fun Zone when several teens got in a fight, shattering

store windows and hitting one another.

“That one was pretty wild,” he said. “But eventually we pushed those

type of crowds out of our city. We haven’t had a riot like that in a

long, long time.”

‘TIMES HAVE CHANGED’

While shipping Bal Week out of town was a relief and welcome peace and

quiet for the local police department, merchants and businesses in the

Fun Zone feel a sense of emptiness, especially during spring break.

Robert Woodbury, who works for Newport Landing, Fishing and Whale

Watching, says he has heard his grandfather talk about Bal Week and the

days when the Fun Zone was really the fun zone.

“It used to be the real hot spot,” he said. “But times have changed.”

There’s a lot more competition now, says Woodbury.

“At that time, this was the only place to play games and ride rides.

Now there’s Dave and Busters and Chuck E Cheese, too many things, too

many choices.”

Students these days too prefer to go to hotter places like Palm

Springs or Mexico, he said.

But the spring break still launches the big summer season for the Fun

Zone, said Woodbury.

“When it’s spring break we know our good season is around the corner,”

he said.

The spring break crowd is a lot different now, he said, it is more

families and less school or college students.

“But it’s better than the winter,” said Woodbury. “It’s a pre-summer

warmup kinda deal.”