The great Modesto smoke out.

I am a member of the most famous graduating high school class ever, the Thomas Downey High School class of 1962. Our class was immortalized in a 1973 film, “American Graffiti.” The film was written and directed by fellow ’62 classmate George Lucas. It captured the spirit of our era, but I maintain that our lives were quite a bit more innocent than portrayed in the movie. The town we all grew up in, Modesto, California, is promoting a Graffiti Summer with a variety of activities which will commemorate the 50 year anniversary of the class of  ’62, the movie and cruising, which Modesto ironically banned shortly after the movie came out. They have asked for memories of cruising in Modesto, so I thought I’d include some of mine, which go beyond cruising.

When I was a Freshman in high school in 1958-59, I was invited to go cruising for the first time by Jim Divochi, who lived across the street. Jim packed six of us (Dennis Myers, Mike Smith, Jim Kutz, Tom Painter and me) in his car and we went out in search of a good time. I soon found that everyone in the car was a smoker except me. I didn't really want to be a smoker. 


The guys determined to have a smoke out. Everyone in the car would smoke and exhale as much as possible. The car would be so full or smoke that it would be impossible to see from the front seat to the backseat, or such was the goal. When the cigarettes were offered, not wanting to be anything except part of the group, I accepted. I probably smoked 3 that night. I don’t remember anything else about the night, except the car was quite full of smoke most of the time. I was dropped off about midnight. To my great surprise, I was met in the kitchen by my Mom. The dialog that ensued went something like this:

            Mom: Well, you’re home late…

            Me: Yeah, I’m going to bed.

Mom: Why, you smell like cigarette smoke. It smells like you been in a fire in the cigarette warehouse! You’ve been smoking!!!

Me: No Mom. The guys all smoke, except me and they decided to have a smoke out in the car.

Mom: So you’re telling me everyone in the car was smoking except you? Let me smell your breath.

Me: (exhaling)

Mom(starting to cry): You have it on your breath. Don’t you lie to me!

Me(desperate): No, Mom you don’t understand. It was a smoke out. I breathed in a lot of smoke, but I didn’t have a cigarette (I had three)!

Mom: You better not be smoking or it’ll be a long time before you go out with any one again. Now get to bed.

There is a question about that night that did not occur to me until decades later. Where was my Dad? He was probably in bed with a big smile on his face hoping I hadn’t done some of the things he had when he was in high school.