This is a story about my friend Jim who left us a few years back. Jim was a special breed of man. I told him when we last spoke that few people in my life had influenced me as much as him. Jim was older by a few years. He had joined the army as young man and had served in Korea. His military service became an significant factor in shaping his identity. After he got out he hung around L.A., doing studio work and frequenting the bars around Venice Beach. Jim had a bit of a wild streak back then and he had seen his share of trouble but by the time I met him he had mellowed into the calm demeanor of a grizzled veteran.

I met Jim when we were both working the southern Renaissance Faire in Agoura back in the early ’80’s. He was working security and I was working carpentry. We became friends instantly. Jim was a very easy guy to be around, easy going and quick with a smile. There was a feeling of kindness and humility, but also the quiet strength of someone you could trust with you life. An “old soul” as they say. By the fall of ’84 Jim had risen to captain of the Walking Guards, a security detail that patrolled the faire with radios ready to respond to any emergencies. I had known him for a few years and had grown to respect him so I was honored when he asked me to be his walking partner for the upcoming northern Faire.

It was a Saturday afternoon when we got a call over the radio from the parking lot alerting us that some Hells Angels were on site. The Angels had visited before without incident and so while alert we were not overly concerned. We were up toward the middle of the Faire when the radio blew up with the hysterical voice of an Area Guard who was shouting that the Hells Angels were trashing a jewelry booth in the front area and calling for the Goon Squad. Jim keyed his mike and directing everyone to stay off the radio and stand down and that he would handle it.

When we arrived at the booth we discovered that this was a contingent from the legendary Oakland chapter, including Sonny Barger and Irish, who was chapter president at the time, and a few of his lieutenants. The Angels were engaged in a heated conversation with the people in the booth and a crowd was gathering. The issue it turned out was that the jewelers were making a selling a silver ring that featured a winged skull. The Angels were claiming the winged skull image was theirs and demanding the jewelers stop selling them. The jewelers were understandably frightened by the confrontation and there was a sense of rising hysteria that could have led to a bad outcome. Jim and I quickly stepped in between the parties, Jim drawing the Angels away from the booth to talk while I took in the jewelers’ side of the story.

Soon Jim came back to the booth and said that he had smoothed the situation with the Angels and that there wouldn’t be any trouble. He asked the jewelers to pull the rings off the counter and they swiftly complied. As the crowd began to disperse and the jewelers went back to their business Jim confided in me that he and Irish had a mutual cellmate back in the day and that he had been able to establish a bond with Irish. In order to guard against any further incidents Jim agreed to personally escort the Angels for the day and that I would take over the walking teams. About then a call came in from Ale 1 about some drunk causing a problem and I was off to deal with that. Meanwhile Jim took the Angels on a tour of the faire, including some backstage access, until they happily rode off into the sunset.

The next afternoon we again got a call form the parking lot the the Angels had arrived. Area guards in the front area confirmed that they were headed for the jewelers booth so Jim and I headed over to meet them. The Angels brought a manila envelope with a cease and desist letter from their lawyer alleging copyright infringement. While Jim took on the role of mediator I organized the walking teams into a security perimeter, rotating in a clockwise direction. I soon realized that Irish’s men were working the same perimeter in a counter clockwise direction. It was all quite cordial as we passed each other with nod that said “just doing my job”.

Meanwhile at the booth it turned out the Irish really liked the rings and an agreement was reached with Jim’s help that the jewelers could make all the rings they wanted but they could only sell them to the Angels. Thus could have been a tragic incident turned into a favorable situation for both sides and much of the credit for that goes to Jim. The bond that developed that day between Jim and Irish turned into a friendship that lasted until Irish was murdered in his own bar. I remember the deep sadness in Jim’s voice when he told me of Irish’s passing. The world saw Irish as a violent gangster, which he was, but Jim saw something more. That’s the kind of guy Jim was.