(The above pictures, previously displayed on this blog, were taken by 328 Club member Dan Joyce, depict the friendly puppy Champ playing in its heavily fertilized backyard. The Doberman, Champ's friend, belonged to the last Confederate Widow who lived next door at 326)
The 340 Club over ten years received only two noise ordinance violations. Further, the Club was never raided and seldom quieted by the police. The very fact that our landlord at 340-340-338, George H. Kratzert (who hopefully will be in attendance at the reunion), rented to us again after having experienced the initial edition of the 340 Club provides additional evidence that while we might have been loud, obnoxious, rowdy … we were not unbearable.
The initial noise violation (and most serious police intrusion) actually occurred on an unseasonably warm New Year’s Eve 1974 (1) at the 328 Club. If memory serves City L was in Indiana with his folks. Ditto for Timmy and Dan who were with family. Sil & I were home although he may have had plans for later. It could just as easy of been New Year’s Day although I think it was the Eve. Oh, and the dog – Champ – was also there. This was no large party; this was me and a low-end stereo “Takin’ Care of Business” with Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Now, it was maxxed as high as it could go but damn. WTF! Sil was walking around dressed appropriately for the weather with a pair of shorts on. Of course, the week after when it was 20 degrees Sil was still walking around dressed inappropriately for the weather with a pair of shorts on. Sil was not making the noise but apparently unfazed by it because if it got too loud he knew where the fuse box was and it got quiet in a hurry. So here I am in the comfort of my room playing some loud music on a holiday when all of a sudden I hear a bit of a commotion on the first floor and uninvited were a pair of Lancaster’s finest charging up the bannisterless 328 Club stairs – with their guns drawn. Greeting them at the top of the stairs, fangs exposed, was Champ, the 328 Club’s Black Lab/Shepherd. The drawn guns became pointed guns and a standoff/staredown took place. When I finally ascertained – over the din – that there were intruders in the house I left the comfort of my room and joined the conflagration on the stairway. Champ immediately became at ease and retreated to me with tail wagging. Guns were holstered and cooler minds prevailed other than the lawmen left a noise citation behind for my rock n’ roll on a holiday can you imagine that?
Cheap as that one was one would think it portended a series of such police harassment driving us from the West King Street neighborhood but thankfully that was not the case. Although the next Noise Ordinance Violation (and the only true one since Lancaster’s modern noise ordinance was not passed until a year or so later and I always took great pride, as a City Planner by trade, as one of the creators of the ordinance not by drafting it - which I didn’t - but by demonstrating to the police/citizenry the upper limits of appropriate noise in an urban environment (which I – along with the usual gang of idiots – did) did not occur for another five years or so.
(1) It could just as easy have been a seasonably warm July 4th, 1975 but who really cares.
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