It was summer of 1966. We had just swung by the Caravilla trailer park for some companions on a dirt bike ride. Some called them ‘trailer park sluts’. Not me. I never got that far with any of them. Frank did though. He had that Italian look they went nuts for. Plus, he had good reports from sluts in other parks. Me? Still a virgin. I was game to give it up though. So, Frank has a hot babe on the back of his 200 Yamaha. I’m set up too on my Honda 90 trail. Only problem is, my date can’t stand me. We end up at the old Lang train station off Soledad. Not far from the Shireys cement plant. Frank has a way inside the locked up, abandoned building off the second floor balcony. He lets himself in, opens the door for us. Nope. Not US, its seemed. My girl will wait outside. I get the picture, start tossing rail road gravel at an old ‘Warning’ sign, posted on the front of the hundred and thirty year old edifice. The sun is now starting to go down. Sheesh, what is taking Frank? We’re on dirt bikes with no headlights. My date asks me if I have a smoke on me. As I start to say no, a loud creaking, is soon followed by a tremendous crash. Dirt and dust blow through the now exploding first floor windows. They we’re boarded over the outside, so, everything blew out. I look at my date, she looks back at me. What had just happened? Her girlfriend appears out the front door in a cloud of dirt still settling. Not Frank. he FLEW out, knocking her down, while screaming, I BROKE MY DICK, I BROKE MY DICK! I chase him down along the tracks. He’s trying to cover his naked lower half. I tell him, “Stop jumping around and I’ll see how bad it is”! Yep. He had a broke dick. Right below the head it was an ‘L’. I would never make an L that big in my life. I tell him to wait, I’m getting my cycle. I tell the girls to hang tough, I’ll find them a ride as soon as I get Frank to emergency. I pull up next to a guy freaking out. I give him my cotton cut off shirt to cover himself, have him sit backwards on my seat, then, haul ass in the dark for the hospital across the street from the Mustang drive in. As I make a hard left past the long line of cars on Soledad waiting to get into the drive in, I lose Frank. Frank does a Vic Morrow combat role, then sprints for the emergency entrance minus my shirt. At this point, he could care less….The doctor had a fancy name for what had happened to Frank, but, in kid terms, broken dick will suffice. From what I could make out, Frank in his frolic, had set up some sort of harmonics, or, lots of termites pissed off, had caused the entire second floor to just drop down. Frank landed on you know where. It has some ‘P’ name. Frank ended up ok. Once they had the blood going two ways again…
