A Farewell To Brother Art

Over the years I have had many people ask about the meaning of the name of this newspaper. I once even had a young woman who comically told me in all earnestness, “That’s so Random.” This then is the story behind the name and my farewell to the friend who helped name it. 

It was a warm afternoon across from Point Fermin Park at the home of Carlin Soule in the summer of 1979. Carlin regularly hosted garden parties there next to Walkers Café where he would try out his latest recipes of varying cuisines on an assortment of friends – his day job was teaching English at Jordan High School in LA but his heart was into cooking long before “pop up cuisine” was a thing. He was ahead of his time and the area along Paseo del Mar hadn’t yet been discovered. You could still buy a house for under $50,000.

Walkers Café was a low-brow biker hangout where Bessie Walker ruled with a gruff demeanor and a cast iron skillet if things got out of hand. It was a quiet place for a beer and a burger (mostly) and it was one of only two places to get a meal in that part of town. So, Carlin’s place was almost a restaurant when he got around to cooking, all of the neighbors who were involved showed up.  This is where I met Arthur Almeida and his wife Irene.

Art and Irene were part of the founding members along with Soule to establish the San Pedro Bay Historical Society. I remember that I had seen Art before at some meeting or another but this was the first chance we had to really talk and engage in an in-depth conversation about Pedro’s goings-on. Even then, Art was always talking about the waterfront, labor unions, and history. He had an infectious smile that always came with his laugh. This was the time and the place that I announced to him that, “What this town needs is a newspaper that isn’t a rightwing screed for the establishment.” I and a few of my friends who had been talking this “idea” up started to explain what we thought was needed. A paper that represented the working people, that addressed their concerns, their perspectives and was pro-labor, and progressive.

Art thought for some time about it and told us the history of the old lumber schooners that used to frequent the waterfront in the old days. They brought the lumber down the coast from Mendocino and Oregon in logs cut in various sizes that would be milled at San Pedro into standard 2×4 or 4x4s– in the lumber trade “it was called random lengths and widths”, he said.  And this is still a term used in the lumber trade to this very day– though the lumber is no longer milled to size here anymore.

Art proffered that this was the perfect metaphor for what we were suggesting – the newspaper was like that schooner but instead of wood it was words and ideas. The idea seemed to resonate and in the end after much discussion, we whittled it down to just Random Lengths. When the first edition came out in December of that year he wanted to know why the “widths” had been left out, but he was proud to have contributed to the naming just the same. And after four decades he never tired of telling people his role in naming San Pedro’s only locally-owned newspaper and was a loyal subscriber until near the end of his life.

As most of you know Arthur Anthony Almeida passed away on April 12 of this year and his passing felt like the end of something that I haven’t quite processed yet. Is this the end of an era that included Dave Arian, John and Muriel Olguin, Rev. Art Bartlet, Greg Smith, Goldie Otters and Bill Samaras and more?  People who were leaders in labor, environment, marine science and the arts? The ones who always stood up for this town. Much of their legacies are hidden in plain view around here like Angels Gate Cultural Center, the Cabrillo Marine Aquarium and the Beacon House recovery program. Who will replace them?

I’m thinking at this point all the greats who I’ve had the honor to meet here in Pedro, who should be honored with a commemorative mural that tells the story of this part of the metropolis that has remained unique and authentic.  All we need is a wall long enough to tell the story, someplace that won’t be torn down to build another monstrosity that is so completely out of context that it makes this community look like anywhere else but here. It is said that if you forget your past you can’t understand your future.

Farewell brother Art, may the seas be calm and the wind at your back.