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American Martyrs class of ‘68 Halloween dance buoy 

Special Contributor|September 18, 2024
American Martyrs Class of ‘68 at La Playita, in Hermosa Beach, (clockwise, from left) Gary Roknick, Jim "Jackson" Rahn, Susan (spouse) and Rusty Smith, Susan (spouse) and John Dietz, Janice (spouse) and Mike Millea, Amy Noor Beisel, John and Carmen (spouse) Shearer, Peggy Johnson, Eloise Tarrin Womble, and Mary Jo Kramer Crites. Photo by Kevin Cody

by John Shearer

We had no clue in 1960, upon entering American Martyrs School as first graders, that we were going to develop a special bond that would last a lifetime. About 10 years ago, a small group of long-time friends and American Martyrs classmates began getting together to share stories of our youthful days growing up in the South Bay.

This month we gathered at La Playita Restaurant in Hermosa Beach for breakfast. We each shared one or more stories during our gathering.

Here’s the story I shared.

During our first days of school, I learned that Jim Rahn and I shared the same birthdate, September 25, 1954.  We became friends that day. Later, Barry Ryan informed Jim that he and I shouldn’t be in school because we weren’t six years old yet, and Jim was traumatized thinking he would be kicked out.

In eighth grade, our parents allowed us to sleep on the beach overnight under the 14th Street lifeguard tower north of Manhattan Beach Pier.  When we woke up in the morning, we saw a five-foot-tall metal buoy washing ashore in the surf.  A beach maintenance worker was nearby in a truck. He said he needed to get a tractor to drag the heavy buoy to a storage location.

Dan McPherson atop the buoy dragged up from the beach to the Shearer house on The Strand, surrounded by (from left) Tom Bushman, John Dietz, PJ Tiernan, John Shearer and dad Alex, and Craig Shearer. Photo by Jim Rahn.

As soon as the maintenance worker drove away, we sprang into action. We pushed the buoy up the berm and across the beach to the lower Pier parking lot. Then, we rolled the buoy up The Strand and into the backyard of my parents’ house at 11th and The Strand. We painted each buoy panel in a bright color, and when it dried, we posed for photos with it.  

One month later, our AMS eighth grade class was planning a Halloween Dance. We painted the buoy orange to look like a jack-o-lantern. We rolled the bright orange buoy through the streets of Manhattan Beach, from 11th Street and The Strand to American Martyrs School. There wasn’t much traffic in 1967, so it was no problem taking over the streets with our rolling buoy. It was the highlight of the dance.

The day after the dance, we rolled the buoy back to my parents’ backyard. It sat there for many years, taking up space until my dad gave it to a friend with horses. The friend took the buoy to his ranch, cut it in half, and used it for water troughs. ER