Tag Archives: Brian McAndrew

Dunmoreans Travel to Mexio

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By Bill Ciccotti

Just south of the border, down Mexico way, Dunmore natives Brian McAndrew and I traveled, in search of rusty gold. We boys were in search of antique automobiles. 

Robert “Rollo” Meehan had come across a good lead on some vintage muscle cars of exceptional lineage. He was willing to pay the price, but before he did, he wanted certain specifications and models.

So, we headed for  a trip to the Baja. Rollo wanted a fast, high performance muscle car that knows how to glide through the gears smoothly. And built solid enough to be able to take out a telephone pole if he had to–50s chrome and steel by Detroit at its finest. We made a call to a point man we knew, Leandro Choba. “Leo” was a contact we knew from a previous road trip and a solid individual who could be trusted.

In accordance with strict COVID-19 restrictions Brian and I had both received our two shots and were cleared to go to  Tijuana. We landed in Southern California and rented a car to drive the peninsula. Social distancing was seen in all the cantinas and the use of face coverings was consistent among patrons.

Mexico’s 775-mile-long Baja Peninsula is a magnet for travelers in search of their own slice of adventure. If you love classic cars, the Mexican Baja is a hidden destination gem. Unbelievable autos from the 1950s and 1960s motor along the cobbled streets and winding highways. 

Chevrolets, Fords, Pontiacs, Buicks, Dodges, Plymouths, and Studebaker’s cruise dirt covered magical miles. Those cars run the gamut from mint condition to downright dilapidated. 

Well-preserved cars have exteriors that shine brightly with vintage chrome and lustful new paint jobs. While the worse-off autos were barely held together with odd parts, bailing wire and mismatched scrap metal of assorted rusty shades. 

We crossed the border, met up with Leandro and three of his friends who would be watching our backs on this adventure. After a few get-acquainted rounds, we all journeyed from Tijuana down into Chihuahua, then finally to La Paz. But first, we stopped off for a few rounds in Tijuana. That chaotic metropolis can be jarring for first-time border-crossers. Leandro and his pals showed us around. 

We traveled off into destiny. And maybe had a few too many rounds along the way. Somehow, I got scheduled for a boxing match in Mexico. 

The night before I had shadow boxed with the bartender at El Dandy’s for laughs. Brian suddenly got the bright idea to set me up for a money match. Leo was all too happy to make it happen. I did not find out about the details till later. After I almost died. 

Few boxing rings are as unique as the open-air Zapata Boxing Gym, the best in Tijuana. In the excitement of the moment, I agreed to shadow box a few rounds. Tequila is a bad deterrent to common sense. My opponent, Kid Mango was the local middleweight champion. I figured, “Ok. Bob and weave. Shadow box like last night. No contact. No blood. Maybe a few good photo ops.”  

As soon as I saw my opponent lacing up for our match with blood in his eyes, I quickly declined the match Brian had set up for me. He looked too eager to punch me into another time zone, so I backed off the fisticuffs. Brian smiled, “What were you worried about Bill? I bet on Kid Mango.” What a pal. Kid Mango continued to stare evilly at me while we backed out of the gym. 

It was time to move on. 

Just 10 minutes down the Trans peninsular, there are rocky cliffs overlooking the dark blue Pacific and alluring Mediterranean type landscapes. The drive south has moments of majesty mixed with ugly, haphazard development. Ensenada, less than two hours from San Diego down the Baja California peninsula, is a lovely area. 

Beyond the souvenir shops, sombreros, knockoff handicrafts and tacky T-shirts, we found the first clues of hidden Detroit muscle. Those small towns along the Mexican Baja have become a time capsule museum for old cars.

One of the cars we looked over had a gorgeous body but when we popped the hood, it revealed a smoke chunking washing machine for its motor. It had a body like Venus and an engine like Frankenstein. Those locals who want more power fit their American classics with tractor engines.

Entering the Baja at Chihuahua, in the rugged northwestern desert of Mexico, we traveled craggy mountainous terrain and wide river valleys. The Sierra Madre mountain range, part of the continental spine that also includes the Rocky Mountains, dominated the terrain. We found no gold, but lots of chrome and steel.

A lovely Harvest Gold 1955 Bel Air was magnificent. It is super rare to find one with a 3.75″ bore x 3.0″ stroke, 9.25 to 1 compression ratio. 225 horsepower. Torque 270-foot pounds at 3600 rpm. Special high-lift camshaft, high-speed valve mechanism. Polished aluminum rocker covers. Dual four-barrel carburation, buff aluminum racing-type air cleaners, special intake manifold. Full pressure lubrication system with full-flow oil filter. High power exhaust headers and full dual exhaust system. Shielded ignition, 12-volt electrical system all in solid working order. 

They let Brian take it out around the plaza and when he pulled back in, he told me, “She handles like a dream. The Synchro-Mesh has no sponge to it. But play it cool or they will rake us over the coals negotiating price.” After tough negotiation, the car was Rollo’s. 

We kept low key and out of trouble, a monumental task for us. Because we were careful where we ate or drank, and never showed excess American money or clothing, and kept a very low profile. The only real trouble we had was along the road to La Paz. One of the local tough guy gangs stopped our car and demanded a toll payment. They had guns, knives and a hand grenade. Several dollars, a bottle of tequila and all our Santana CDs were confiscated. But we were eventually allowed to travel on. 

In La Paz we hit the motherload. Attempting to pry some of that shiny Detroit gold free, was quite an effort. But money talks and we could not believe what we were shown down a cobbled side street. A Cascade Green 1956 Corvette with numbers matching. Only 290 cars were built in this Cascade Green in 1956 with very few receiving the optional 225hp dual carb engine 5200 rpm. This Corvette still retained its factory original “GR” Coded engine. 

It has a beige interior and top, 3-speed manual transmission, Cascade Green hardtop, special two-tone paint, and wide white wall tires. We were not even looking for that one but when we called Rollo, he flipped. “Get it boys.”

A few miles out of town we got a wagon. A 1956 Chevy Nomad in fact. The “tri-five” phase of the 1950s produced some pretty good station wagons. The Nomad is the rarest of the lot with just 8,000 ever produced. Its 350 cubic-inch crate V8 was larger than other engines of the time and the two-door design makes her stand out from the pack. The improved front and tail ends give it a unique flair.

We discovered a pristine 1957 Chevy Bel Air. When we popped the hood there before us was a dirty but very fictional 265 V-8 that was bored out to 283 cubic inches, with a two-barrel carburetor and single exhaust. 

We called Rollo and he informed us, if we got it, he intended to trade out the two-barrel for a four-barrel, adding dual exhausts and boosting compression from 8.5:1 to 9.5:1 super turbo-fire 283, rated at 220 horsepower.  Howie said, “We could use Chevy’s fuel-injected Ramjet V-8s, with a hydraulic cam, and solid lifters.

It was time to celebrate and enjoy the setting of the sun. Howie set up the pickup and delivery for all the vehicles. Of course, no major money was exchanged before reliable pickup and inspection was completed by Dean-O himself. With strict documentation.

Woodstock 50th: A Second Chance

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By Brian McAndrew 

On Friday night, August 15th 1969, Dunmore natives Jim McCormick, Donny Loftus, Jack Early, Robert Kelleher and myself were 17 years old and hanging at the Carroll’s Drive-In Restaurant at the corner of Blakely and Green Ridge Streets in Dunmore. 

It was a hot/damp evening and much of the talk centered around taking a road trip to some kind of rock festival in upper state New York, a little over a one hour drive from Scranton. 

Seemed like a good idea at the time but with no car, the road trip was nothing more than pipe dream.  Then another friend, Tommy (Bocker) Hunt pulled into Carroll’s in his blue 1954 Dodge Meadowbrook. He was game for a road trip and the next thing we knew we were headed to some place called Bethel, New York. 

Well, we got as far as the bridge at Narrowsburg, N.Y. The state police were stopping all vehicles–they were not allowing cars to go any further due to overwhelming crowds. The only alternative was to ditch the car and walk the next 21 miles to Bethel. 

Considering the heavy rain and lingering heat, plus running low on beverages, we decided to head back to Dunmore. Besides, it was just another rock concert in the middle of nowhere. Little did we know at that time, it would become the most famous and historic rock concert ever held called “Woodstock.”

Fifty years later, Donny Loftus suggested we all get together once again and try a return trip to Bethel for the Woodstock 50th Anniversary. We did! Donny got the tickets and a travel pass to ensure this time we made it through the state police road checks. On August 16th, 2019, we all met at Donny’s house in Dunmore and departed for Woodstock in Jackie’s old Ford Explorer (not much better than the 54 Meadowbrook). 

While much as changed since that Friday evening in 1969–Carroll’s Drive-In is now a Rite Aid Pharmacy, Blocker’s 54 Meadowbrook is at its final resting place in DeNaples junk yard, we are 50 years older, and the country seems more divided than ever–we still wanted to experience the Woodstock spirit.

Upon arriving at Bethel, we saw mostly white-haired baby boomers in tie-dye shirts just like ourselves. After walking the original festival grounds and chatting with other boomers, the music started. Blood, Sweat & Tears and the Edgar Winter Band started the Friday night concert followed by the main act, Ringo Starr and his All Starr Band. 

The music was great and the crowd that night had a spirit of unity and togetherness as envisioned by the original Woodstock Festival in 1969. 

After the concert ended, I talked with a woman who was at Woodstock in 1969 and asked her how the Woodstock spirit differs today from 1969 with all the changes over the past half century. She agreed much has changed in the past 50 years but emphasized that Woodstock spirit of togetherness and unity comes from inside all of us.

 During the drive back to Dunmore late that night, we talked more about our times together over the years growing up in Dunmore than the concert itself. Bocker mentioned this road trip seemed less about the physical destination of Bethel and more about another chance to be together with life-long friends. 

This second chance at Woodstock not only gave us opportunity to complete the road trip we started in 1969, but more importantly to be together with friends in the true spirit of Woodstock.

Dunmoreans Take Trip to Cuba

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Dunmorean in Cuba

A copy of The Dunmorean made it to Havana, Cuba, courtesy of Bill Ciccotti and Brian McAndrew. They are shown in front a tribute to Che Guevara.

Dunmore natives Brian McAndrew and Bill Ciccotti recently traveled on Norwegian Cruise Lines to Cuba for a book signing tour of local author Bill Ciccotti’s latest tropical action adventure, “Key West Reeling.”

It was their first landing on “Isle Juana,” as Christopher Columbus called it. The author was very excited about the trip, though he insists the cigars, rum and old cars had nothing to do with his enthusiasm.

Bill told us, “This Cuban tour was a tropical riot and I’m sure it will be the inspiration for numerous embellished tales.”

key west

Bill Ciccotti did a book signing for his latest, “Key West Redemption,” while he was in Cuba.

The lifelong friends have done many road trips over the years that have been the basis for several of the Key West Adventure books written by Ciccotti. But this trip needed no colorizing. It was the “Daddy-O” of them all. The book signing at the Hemingway house went off without a hitch.

Bill says, “It was intimate and full of spontaneous laughter, warmth and many grinning faces. I never expected such a welcoming. But we went with the flow, the Cohibas and the rum. You know, you can still get a pretty good cigar down there.”

Brian McAndrew added, “The Cuban people embraced the books and treated both of us great. I was surprised by the openness and friendliness, especially of the rural people. Old men sat playing dominos using pebbles and pop tops as betting chips.”

Pre-60s cars were everywhere, including Cadillac Coupe De Villes, Chevy Blairs, and Lincoln Premiums. Brian and Bill rave about those classic cars, noting, “The cars were pristine muscle. Heavy steel chariots with roaring engines covered in beautiful sparkling color. Mint green, orange, yellow, white and blue mismatched panel sections. We saw

1955 Buick Special Convertibles. Real wire wheels, rebuilt original V8s. Rebuilt automatic transmissions, rebuilt power steering, cloth tops and boots. And lots of chrome. Those cars had the same owner for over 43 years.”

Brian and Bill toured a cigar factory and several cantinas.

Bill talked of the cigar factory first. “You walk through the wide doorway with the tropical heat following you inside onto a cracked marble floor. You keep wondering just how many shoes walked along this weathered path. Then it hits you. The smell of unlit cigar tobacco, earthy and remarkably intoxicating. It pulls you closer to the factory’s heart, a siren song that can’t be ignored. There before you are scores of workers, each making cigars entirely by hand.”

cigars

Cubans still roll cigars in the age-old tradition, shared with the American travelers.

Brian told us, “Unrushed, antique and personal hand rolling of those Cuban cigars hasn’t changed for hundreds of years. There’s nothing like the taste of fine hand-rolled tobacco and Havana is the birthplace of premium cigars.

As the hot tropical sun beat down it was finally time for a drive. “Well, our driver Alberto drove, at first.”

Bill said, “We rented classic Detroit muscle from the 1950’s, a glossy red Buick Electra convertible. We cruised past the Cuban baroque style Cathedral de San Cristobal and the bold Castillo de la Real Fuerza, an impressive military fortress. We drove the popular public squares of Plaza Vieja and Plaza de Armas.”

Then, in the rural areas the boys got behind the wheel.

Brian smiled, “That Electra ran and drove like new. I couldn’t believe the joy I got out of driving that classic GM rock solid car. No disappointments there, amigo.”

Bill shrugged, “Ok, we didn’t drive far but we got behind the wheel and it was good.” After regaining the steering wheel, Leo took them to a few spots of interest along the way.

Bill said, “El Floridita, Cuba’s most renowned bar, was one of Hemingway’s favorite places to drink. Photos of him with Errol Flynn, Gary Cooper and Ava Gardner cover the walls.”

Brian told us, “It is said to be the birthplace of the daiquiri and they do make really good ones there.” The boys sat next to a statue of Hemingway and toasted the legendary author. Then they toasted themselves, noting life is good. But only if you live it.

the sweet life

The sweet life as experienced by Bill Ciccotti and Brian McAndrew included Havana Club beer, tropical drinks, and fine Cuban tobacco products.

After the car tour the boys went back to the boat to change for a night on the town. Brian smiles, “Our guide, Leandro Coba liked us so much that later on, at night, he came back out to party with us. He even played in several of the bands we encountered at the cantinas along the evening.”

Brian grinned, “The evening belonged to El Malecon, Havana’s famous seafront boulevard. At sunset, the failing sun rivaled Key West for the beauty of its tropical twilight colors. As the sun neared the trees darkness was falling.”

Bill nodded, “Congo drums beat to the heartbeat of another Cuban night. Soon the fun stuff would start happening. But that’s another book.” The two amigos were out on the town with a local amigo who knew all the hot spots.

Bill says, “We hit Sloppy Joes. Havana’s pre-revolutionary bar.” There are two Sloppy Joes. One of them is in Key West and the other Hemingway hangout is in Cuba. The boys hit them both. They hit and highly recommended, El Dandy, Bill’s favorite Havana nightspot. Bar Dos Hermanos.

Bill said, “We partied late into the night. At two a.m. we were sitting on a second floor veranda watching the plaza and smiling contently. I asked Brian, “Do you speak Spanish?” He smiled back, “Fluently. Dos cervesa pro favor.”

Bill told us, “This was a trip of a lifetime. Exotic, wild and free.” Brian added, “Like us.”

Ciccotti is very excited about the progress that is being made on the Key West Redemption audio book. “Our fantastic narrator expresses the tropical vibe and excitement necessary to portray the quirky characters that explode from this story. Wait till you hear him do Elvis. Hopefully, the finished product will be released to the public in the coming year.”

channeling hemingway

Channeling Ernest Hemingway in one of his favorite spots in Cuba were the local travelers, Brian McAndrew and Bill Ciccotti, shown with some of the locals.

A fifth, sixth and seventh Key West book has been signed up for and the story line for all four has been approved.

Bill told us, “I said the Key West Redemption series was going to be a pentagon but somehow, I still ended up with seven. Maybe I should call it “The Magnificent Seven”. These books were calling out to me.”

“Tropical Hit” has just been released in Kindle and is also available in paperback. Crime stories with a twist of lime, action and tropical sunsets. It is the first book of the “Tropical Hit Trilogy” series and is available on Amazon.

Are all these stories true? Bill laughs, “I’d be lying if I answered that question. But I’ve had a lifetime full of more than a few strange adventures. My books are overflowing with fine memories and true friendships.”

Brian said, “Success is getting what you want. But happiness is wanting what you have.”

Bill’s key to life is, “Remember to laugh all you can. Even if it’s at yourself. Because if you can’t laugh at yourself, somebody else will.”

Bill ended up with, “Life is full of wise decisions. Wise is overrated. Go make some mistakes. Live a little. Now get to hell down here to Key West and maybe we’ll all sneak back into Cuba one more time.”