Back in September ’55 it all started

It was 50 years ago in mid-September of 1955 when this corner was

welcomed by the founder of the Daily Pilot , Walter Burroughs, to

join the news staff and take charge of sports at the Globe-Herald and

Pilot .

And it’s a pleasure to say the many years have been full of

treasured events, special people to interview and coming to know

valued friends.

Coincidentally, that same September found Orange Coast College

opening its new football stadium and Al Irwin prepared to coach his

eighth and final grid year at Newport Harbor High School before

moving on to direct football at OCC a year later.

The harbor area did not feature a heavy population in those days

in Newport or Costa Mesa. The population in Costa Mesa in ’52 was

around 12,000 and less than that in Newport Beach.

In addition, there was only one high school then, Newport Harbor

High, and one junior college, OCC. Hence, the sports coverage demands

for a local newspaper was not overwhelming as it is today.

In the fifties, Burroughs took an opportunity to buy a weekly

called the Seal Beach Pilot and chose to merge it with the old

Globe-Herald. Many natives favored the old name , but the publisher

had a fondness for the name Pilot and, in time, would prompt the old

moniker to fade away.

One of the finest salutes that should always stand for Burroughs

was his firm dedication to push for the creation of the University of

California, Irvine, with strong friend Joan Irvine Burt. And they

succeeded in grandiose fashion.

Burroughs himself was an honored graduate of the University of

California, Berkeley, and made it clear he wished for a high

scholarly institution. That, too, became a reality at Irvine.

He was always a positive boost for any employee he felt made

genuine efforts to improve the paper. We drew the first place honor

for best California sports section in our class in 1958 and he

invited us to fly to Berkeley for an honorary luncheon by the

California Newspaper Publishers Assn.

We hesitated momentarily since our only experience in flight was a

very uneasy trip aboard an old World War II transport plane , and it

often dropped long distances with a constant flow of air pockets.

Once was enough.

Burroughs smiled, then said, “No, this flight will be aboard a

smooth jet.” So, we came to enjoy a most comfortable adventure.

One unique happening arose in the early sixties when a ’47

basketball teammate named Bill Skiles, who became a noted national

comedian and musician, drew front page attention from coast to coast

when he threatened to sue the U.S. Navy for a $1.50 wash job on his

small red sports car.

With amusement, it sparked the interest of Burroughs out of

curiosity and because The Pilot broke the story, of course.

One lazy afternoon in the Back Bay, Skiles and his lady companion

had chosen to park and observe an air show of old two-winged planes

from the OC Airport.

Suddenly, Skiles heard a roar of water splashing their way and

then swamped his auto with a flood of grease-stained water. He jumped

out of his car and finally looked upward to see a Navy blimp cruising

over them. Typical of Skiles found him declaring, “I was so mad I

picked up a rock and threw it at them.”

The blimp’s crew claimed the blimp was having problems and had to

quickly dispose of thousands of gallons of bilge water. Skiles, of

course, did not believe that claim.

But the young officers would not talk about it after Skiles phoned

the base and demanded an explanation. Skiles did not disclose his

secret joy, knowing that all the national attention was golden

publicity for a comedian. So, with tongue in cheek, he said he was

going to sue the Navy for a wash job. Meanwhile, the Navy ordered the

crew to a closed barrack and called for total silence on the matter.

The controversy sizzled until Burroughs stepped forward and

extended a happy invitation to dinner for the blimp crew and the

Pilot news staff. That worked. The event was a delightful way to bury

the hatchit, so Burroughs had shown his diplomatic finesse once

again.

This corner served seven years for the early Pilot, two as the

first city editor, before shifting to editorial positions at the

Register, three desert papers, including the Tombstone Epitaph in

Arizona and finally, an administrative post at Cypress College.

However, this corner was invited back in ’89 to write columns and

with all the time totaled up, it’s been 23 years of service to the

Pilot.