(In the second installment of a series, roving correspondent/ photographer Kristen Tobiason revisits and documents the scenes of our youth. Today, we patrol Presidio Park, site of many an al fresco gathering ca. 1984.)
Presidio Park — a k a “Presids.”
Law Street. Ski Beach. Balboa Park. And Presidio. As soon as the question, “What we gonna do tonight?” was asked, a phone call was made and a few hours later, there would be over 50 kids hanging out in the Presidio Park Mission parking lot, sitting on that famous wall.
Drinking beer, hooking up with prospective partners for the make-out ditch down the hill — scooters would line up the length of the whole lot. It was like “Romper Room” for hormone-crazed teens. Flirting, yelling, chasing each other, having intellectual debates over some band’s inherent greatness versus another’s … I remember Mike Stax’s [Tell-Tale Hearts] and John Hanrattie’s [Gravedigger V] competition over The Pretty Things and The Stones, represented by the ‘zines they put out, namely Ugly Things and December’s Children. (We were pretty competitive!)
I can imagine Darren and Bert slinging insults as an art form, or Manual Scan guys comparing James Brown dance moves — Steve Medico wearing his “pill” shirt — Zoe and Denise being cute, loud and sassy. Girls getting drunk, being catty, doing “hot laps” in their new outfits. … I know that if I scored some new cute duds, I’d want everyone to check ’em out.
One thing that sticks out for me is that there was no bathroom. For guys, the whole world is one big toilet, but for girls it’s a challenging situation. For that we had a system. We’d go in pairs, one to stand “guard” while the other was vulnerably positioned. We got to know each other this way.
And if you drank a lot you had to pee a lot, so there were many trips up the hill behind the Presidio Mission (a safe a place as any), where we’d take care of business and talk. Call it female bonding.
These outdoor public parties were a great opportunity to co-mingle with other cliques. Mods weren’t as elitist as they thought themselves. There was all kinds of fringe culture and the city was small enough that those barriers blended and lines were crossed, usually over some cute girl.
But. … I do remember conflicts. There was almost always some individual revved up on alcohol and testosterone, smashing beer bottles or threatening to crack heads. Occasionally a cop would show up, and everybody would scatter to the wind — reappearing at the Balboa Park fountain or Denny’s a half-hour later.
I haven’t been to Presidio Park at night in a long long time. In the 90’s it became a hot spot for male prostitution and drug peddling, and it acquired an icky-creepy vibe. Patrol cars multiplied. I don’t think the cool kids hang out there anymore. San Diego has become a large crowded city. There are all kinds of night venues and underage clubs to support the current scene. People don’t need to be so creative. In a way, that’s a shame.
— Kristen Tobiason