| Excerpt
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| | uncle to Brian, Dennis, and Carl) would
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| The following is an excerpt from the book
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| | tell Timothy White, describing nights on
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| Catch a Waveby Peter Ames Carlin
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| | the Kansas plains when "we'd have shows
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| Published by Rodale; July 2006;$25.95US
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| | on Saturday nights, with three of the
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| $34.95CAN; 1-59486-320-2
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| | oldest brothers on guitars and mandolins.
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| Copyright © 2006 Peter Ames Carlin
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| | This was at home, with the windows open
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| Chapter 1
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| | to the street, and people would stop and
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| Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys' original
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| | listen."
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| songwriter, producer, and visionary, is
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| | Even Buddy, a man with no discernible
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| in his sixties now, a man of age and
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| | instincts toward paternal tenderness,
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| wealth and almost no discernible interest
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| | loved to sing with his kids. He'd long
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| in the world as it existed before him,
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| | since come to admire the sound of his own
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| particularly with regard to his family
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| | tenor voice anchoring the family blend.
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| and their own journey across the
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| | But even more important, weaving his
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| continent to the golden coast where he
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| | voice together with those of his wife and
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| was born. "We never talked about that
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| | kids was as close as Buddy could get to
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| stuff," Brian says. It is the spring of
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| | actual emotional intimacy with his
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| 2004, and he's in one of his favorite
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| | family. And perhaps this was why Murry,
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| restaurants, a bustling hillside deli in
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| | the son who had come to be the family's
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| a mall down the street from his home on
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| | last line of defense against their drunk,
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| the crest of Beverly Hills. "That's the
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| | vicious father, came to love music so
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| one thing they never did, never talked
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| | very much. He taught himself to play
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| about our ancestors at all." Now, it's
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| | guitar, too, and he picked up piano from
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| hard to know if Brian is saying this
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| | his big sister. And when the living room
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| because it's true or because he just
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| | radio picked up broadcasts from the
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| doesn't remember any such conversations.
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| | elegant nightclubs of Hollywood or
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| Or, more likely, he just doesn't want to
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| | downtown Los Angeles, Murry sat in front
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| address the issue. He's an intimidating
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| | of the speaker and soaked it in, his face
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| man, both for all he's achieved in his
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| | glowing happily. What he was hearing was
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| life and for all he's suffered along the
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| | an entirely new vision of the world.
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| way. And given the remove of his
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| | Here, life was filled with luxury and
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| celebrity and his psychic torment, it's
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| | ease; a place where careers could be made
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| hard to separate the humor from the
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| | and fortunes earned, all by the grace of
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| horror in his eyes when he does recall
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| | a clever new song. Sitting in front of
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| something his father did like to say.
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| | the radio, aloft on the arc of a pretty
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| "Kick some ass!" Brian is smiling now, in
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| | melody, Murry Wilson had come to realize
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| his silly, sad way. "Exactly, that's what
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| | something: More than anything else in the
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| my dad said. Kick ass! Kick ass!"
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| | world, he wanted to be a songwriter.
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| Murry Wilson was a big guy with a big
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| | But if Murry could be just as dreamy as
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| personality and even bigger dreams of
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| | the next aspiring pop star, he was also a
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| glory. That he would attain them through
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| | realist who had grown up knowing exactly
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| the work of his sons was a source of
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| | how important-and difficult-it could be
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| great pride and outrage from the old man.
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| | to buy the bare essentials of day-to-day
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| "My relationship with my dad was very
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| | life. He was a mediocre student at George
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| unique," Brian says. "In some ways I was
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| | Washington High School, but the
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| very afraid of him. In other ways I loved
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| | rock-jawed youngster left school in 1935
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| him because he knew where it was at. He
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| | armed with a steely resolve to find work.
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| had that competitive spirit which really
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| | And though the rest of the nation was
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| blew my mind."
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| | still mired in the teeth of the
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| "Don't be afraid to try the greatest
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| | Depression, Murry landed a job as a clerk
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| sport around." That's the story of
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| | with the Southern California Gas Company.
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| Brian's life. But also the story of his
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| | He was still employed there when he met
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| brothers, his cousin and friends, and all
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| | and, in 1938, married Audree Korthof, the
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| of the ancestors whose ambitions, fears,
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| | sweet-natured daughter of a stern,
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| hopes, and determination delivered them
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| | hard-working baker who had moved his
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| to this land beneath the unyielding sun.
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| | family west from Minnesota when Audree
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| California, here we come. Right back
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| | was a schoolgirl. Murry and his new wife
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| where they started from. "Catch a wave
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| | settled in southern Los Angeles, reveling
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| and you're sitting on top of the world."
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| | for a time in Murry's ascendance from the
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| As described by Timothy White in his
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| | gas company office trenches to a junior
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| intricately researched The Nearest
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| | administrative post. When Audree became
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| Faraway Place, the story of the Wilsons
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| | pregnant in the fall of 1941, Murry's
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| in America begins in the late eighteenth
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| | determination to succeed and to outdo the
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| century, when the first Wilson to venture
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| | sad, bitter legacy of his father only
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| to the New World settled in New York. The
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| | grew more intense. The couple's first
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| first American-born family member, named
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| | son, Brian Douglas Wilson, was born on
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| Henry Wilson, was born in 1804 and
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| | June 20, 1942, bearing the same blue
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| eventually moved west to Meigs County,
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| | eyes, dark hair, and prominent brow that
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| Ohio, where he worked as a stonemason.
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| | had followed the family across the
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| His son, named George Washington Wilson
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| | generations.
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| in the spirit of the times, was born in
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| | Murry and Audree welcomed two more boys
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| 1820, and he and his family farmed a plot
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| | into their family in the next four
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| of rich, river-fed land in Meigs County
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| | years-the fair-haired Dennis Carl Wilson
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| for more than six decades until his own
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| | coming in late 1944 and Carl Dean Wilson,
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| son, William Henry Wilson, decided to
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| | another dark-featured boy, at the end of
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| pursue fortune west to the wide-open
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| | 1946. Moving his family to a modern, if
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| plains of Hutchinson, Kansas. So west
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| | cozy, two-bedroom ranch house on West
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| they went, with patriarch George in tow,
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| | 119th Street in the blue-collar suburb of
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| settling onto a large, if relatively
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| | Hawthorne, Murry rolled his sleeves up
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| arid, farm that William Henry soon
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| | over his bulky forearms and set to
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| abandoned in order to go into the
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| | scratching out his own slice of the
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| industrial plumbing business. Contracts
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| | postwar economic boom. He'd already made
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| to work on the state's new reformatory
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| | some progress, jumping to a junior
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| system, along with the many opportunities
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| | administration job at the Goodyear Tire
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| afforded by the modernizing world around
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| | and Rubber Company just after Brian's
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| them, provided a decent working-class
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| | birth and then, just as the war ended, to
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| living and a solidly built clapboard
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| | a foreman's position in the manufacturing
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| bungalow on one of Hutchinson's nice
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| | plant of AiResearch, an aeronautics
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| residential streets. As the nineteenth
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| | company that made parts for Seattle-based
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| century gave way to the twentieth,
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| | Boeing Aircraft's growing line of
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| William Henry began to think again of
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| | civilian and military airplanes.
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| chasing fortune into the western horizon.
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| | By the end of World War II, the South Bay
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| California! At the dawn of the new
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| | revolved around the thriving aerospace
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| century, this was the setting of every
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| | industry. Borne up by the dual demands of
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| ambitious man's dreams. The real estate
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| | a rapidly expanding civilian airline
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| flyers papering the town painted in the
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| | market and the just-as-rapidly-growing
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| details, describing the valley soil as
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| | tension with the Soviet Union,
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| every bit as rich and fertile as the sun
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| | aeronautics presented opportunities for
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| was warm and the breezes gentle. Thus
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| | hardworking men that were seemingly as
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| inspired, William Henry scraped together
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| | limitless as their own aspirations. But
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| the cash to buy, sight unseen, ten acres
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| | while Murry's timing was spot-on, and he
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| of prime farmland in the southern
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| | was a tireless worker with a penchant for
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| California village of Escondido. William
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| | big ideas, nothing came easily for him. A
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| Henry loaded up his wife, kids, and even
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| | gruesome accident at Goodyear cost him
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| his eighty-five-year-old father into the
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| | his left eye, and that twist of fate only
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| family jalopy; they arrived in 1904 and
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| | emphasized an aggressive-to-bellicose
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| spent the year laboring on their new
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| | personality that tended to alienate him
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| vineyard. And though the sun did indeed
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| | from co-workers and superiors alike.
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| shine, and the water flowed as promised,
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| | Stalled on the lower rungs of management
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| and the vines did erupt with fat, juicy
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| | and increasingly frustrated with his flat
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| fruit, the farming was every bit as hard
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| | career arc, Murry descended into dark
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| as it had been back in Kansas, and the
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| | moods all too reminiscent of his own
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| money not nearly as vast as previously
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| | father's. Still, unwilling to resign
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| anticipated. By 1905, William and family
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| | himself entirely to the old man's fate,
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| were back in the plumbing business in
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| | he scraped together as much cash as he
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| Kansas. Still, memories of the California
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| | could and opened his own business, an
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| sun and the dreams of ease and fortune
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| | industrial equipment rental outfit he
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| that had once stirred William Henry's
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| | called A.B.L.E. (Always Better Lasting
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| soul came to rest in the imagination of
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| | Equipment) Machinery. From that point on,
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| his teenaged son, William Coral "Buddy"
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| | Murry Wilson would be his own boss. The
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| Wilson. As the boy grew, so too did his
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| | arrangement suited him just fine.
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| visions of the golden future that awaited
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| | So in the mornings Murry would dress in
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| him in the Golden State.
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| | his pressed white shirts and skinny tie
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| Dark-eyed, heavy-browed, and
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| | knotted just so, his horn-rimmed glasses
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| thick-featured, Buddy Wilson took off for
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| | perched on his thick, bulldog's face, his
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| California in 1914. Then in his early
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| | suit jacket straining against the
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| twenties, the young man-already married
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| | prominent belly and muscular shoulders
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| to Edith Shtole and the father of a child
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| | that testified both to his appetite for
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| or two-fairly seethed with ambition.
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| | work and for the rewards awaiting a man
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| Surely, he imagined, a man with his drive
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| | at the end of his day. Steering his Ford
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| and appetite could find an untapped
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| | down the quiet, sun-washed streets of
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| stream of gold somewhere in that rich,
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| | mid-1950s Hawthorne, he'd see a hundred
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| open economic frontier. Leaving his
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| | houses just like the one he shared with
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| family back in Hutchinson, Buddy would
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| | Audree and his three boys: small but
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| spend months at a time searching for his
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| | neat, with a lush lawn and a wide
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| place in the sun, looking increasingly in
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| | driveway for the late-model Ford, Buick,
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| the oil fields of the southern coast.
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| | or Chevy, its tail fins gleaming in the
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| Guys could make a fortune if they latched
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| | cool morning light.
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| onto the right rig, and so Buddy used his
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| | These were the cars of men who were
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| plumbing skills as his entr?e, working as
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| | determined to get somewhere in their
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| a steamfitter on the pipes that channeled
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| | lives. Like Murry, many of Hawthorne's
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| the gushers out of the ground and into
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| | men were either born in the Midwest or
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| the pockets of the rich men whose example
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| | were the children of men and women who
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| he was desperate to follow.
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| | had made the westward trek sometime in
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| But Buddy would never join them in the
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| | the first few decades of the twentieth
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| gilded halls of the powerful. Moody and
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| | century. "It was like a little Midwestern
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| scattered, plagued by searing headaches
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| | town that just got moved right there to
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| and a self-destructive thirst for
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| | eighty acres of land," recalls Robin
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| whiskey, Buddy wandered from job to job
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| | Hood, who grew up a few blocks from the
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| to long stretches of unemployment, which
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| | Wilsons. "There were a lot of farmers
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| he passed grumbling into a glass in a dim
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| | from Kansas and Missouri, a lot of Dust
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| barroom. When Edith and the kids finally
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| | Bowl-era folks who settled in with their
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| joined him in 1921, taking the train to
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| | big, extended families. Nobody was rich,
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| the elegant-sounding village of
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| | but we didn't know it."
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| Cardiff-by-the-Sea, he couldn't afford to
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| | But their parents certainly did. And if
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| lease an apartment in town. Instead, the
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| | one belief held the community together,
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| family spent their first two months
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| | it was the one about the transformative
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| living in a snug eight-by-eight-foot tent
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| | potential of hard work. No matter where
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| with all the other squatters on the
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| | you came from, no matter what your people
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| beach.
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| | used to be or what anyone expected you to
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| Edith took a job pressing clothes for a
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| | become, in a working-class West Coast
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| garment manufacturer, and eventually the
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| | town like Hawthorne-which had been a
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| family moved to a small home on an
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| | stretch of empty coastal flats and swamp
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| unpaved road in Inglewood where the eight
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| | a generation ago-you could work your way
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| Wilson kids attended school, worked
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| | into being anything or anyone you felt
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| weekend jobs, and marched the thin line
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| | like being. This belief is liberating, of
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| dictated by their sour father and stern,
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| | course, but it's also evidence of
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| demanding mother. Escape, such as it was,
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| | internal currents that can give the
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| came in the occasional afternoon bike
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| | pursuit an undertone of desperation. As
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| rides to the open, breezy expanse of
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| | Joan Didion would write, the California
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| Hermosa Beach.
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| | of this era was a place "in which a boom
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| Escape was a necessity for Buddy Wilson's
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| | mentality and a sense of Chekhovian loss
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| kids. Buddy, now in middle age and
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| | meet in uneasy suspension; in which the
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| resigned to his life of small prospects
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| | mind is troubled by some buried but
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| and severely limited horizons, had long
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| | ineradicable suspicion that things had
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| felt his ambition curdle into resentment.
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| | better work here, because here, beneath
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| Often awash in alcohol and self-pity,
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| | that immense bleached sky, is where we
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| Buddy's bile regularly boiled over into
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| | run out of continent."
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| violence, directed most often at Edith.
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| | Eventually the Baby Boom generation would
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| But he could also turn his fists on his
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| | turn the very edge of the continent into
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| children, once beating the school-aged
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| | its own proving ground. But the impulse
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| Charles so savagely (for mistakenly
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| | that propelled them there, that restless
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| shattering his glasses) that Murry, then
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| | need for deliverance and the intuitive
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| a teenager, had to come to his brother's
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| | belief that it could be divined by your
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| rescue, shoving the old man out of the
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| | own hands somewhere out past the wild
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| house until he sobered up. And this
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| | fringe of the western horizon, was the
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| wasn't the only time Murry had come to
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| | same one that had dragged their families
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| blows with his father. Increasingly, the
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| | across the American frontier and into the
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| family's second-oldest boy found himself
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| | dreamy, bustling, sun-glazed cities they
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| thrust into the role of his mother's
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| | had built for themselves. And this was
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| protector, raising his own fists against
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| | where Murry's sons, Brian, Dennis, and
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| the father he loved but who seemed unable
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| | Carl, came to understand their father's
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| to love him or anyone else in the family.
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| | need for them to kick the world in the
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| As in most abusive families, the physical
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| | ass. He wanted so much for them. He
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| and psychic violence that ruled their
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| | wanted so much for himself. In the worst
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| home became an unacknowledged presence, a
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| | possible way, you might say.
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| force that both dominated their lives and
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| | Reprinted from: Catch a Wave: The Rise,
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| forced them into silence. But if they
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| | Fall, and Redemption of the Beach Boys'
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| couldn't talk about their problems, the
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| | Brian Wilson by Peter Ames Carlin ©
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| Wilsons could always sing their way to a
| |
| | 2006 Rodale Inc. Permission granted by
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| kind of amity. Indeed, group sings had
| |
| | Rodale, Inc., Emmaus, PA 18098. Available
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| been a Wilson family tradition dating
| |
| | wherever books are sold or directly from
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| back to Kansas and beyond, as an
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| | the publisher by calling (800) 848-4735.
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| eighty-seven-year-old Charles Wilson (an
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| |
|
