Who We Were

There were founding members of the Venice Lapidary Guild, and there were a lot who came after. I’m only going to use first names, except for myself, and the boss-man, Warren Jones.

Warren was one of the most genuinely eccentric people I have ever met. His hair was always messed up, his clothes looked like he dressed in the dark, and his glasses were usually held together with tape. But he was utterly unabashed to walk into the loftiest showroom in Beverly Hills and accost the proprietor and cajole and wheedle him into buying something.

He knew everything there was to know about gems and minerals, and knew the trade and everyone in it I’ll never be able to quantify what I learned from him. He was also a driven and addictive man – smoked incessantly, drank too much, took pretty much any drugs he got his hands on. And, being older than the rest of us, when he didn’t slow down, he got sick and went crazy. And that was that.

Michael was Warrens right hand man. He was a Navajo from El Paso, and they had met there when Warren was prospecting for minerals locally. He was the last of us to see Warren, too. Their friendship was on and off again, but it lasted until the end.

I, John O’Brien, was another founder. I was just eighteen at the time, and it was all terribly impressive to me at the time. Joining a commune was the cool thing to do that summer, anyway. I ended up being around for ten years.

One of mine.

Mark was an old friend of mine who joined up a month or two after it started. He had more talent than most of us, and compensated for it by being extremely difficult to get along with. He was energetic, dedicated, and opinionated, and we fought constantly. But we stayed friends, long after the guild was gone. He left in 1977, and went to work at a store in Westwood. Two years later, I was to follow.

One of Marks.

Larry was a young kid from Fresno who just drifted in one day. the scion of a family who earned it’s living carving statuary, he had real skills, and helped us to turn out our first really professional product. He could carve in wax properly, and taught the rest of us our first lessons in real model-making. Left in 1975, moved up north. We have gotten back in touch just recently.

One of Larrys.

Black Mike was a Mexican kid from the border, who knew warren from El Paso. Had a special touch with making the polishing tumblers run right, but could never stay out of trouble with the law. He sort of drifted away somewhere around 1974.

One of Mikes.

Tom was a musician whose family was in the jewelry supply business. Left in 1969.

Sundown and Pittsburgh John rolled up one day in a 1934 Ford UPS truck that was painted the UPS colors – only it said “United Parcel Schlepp” on the side. Sundown left in 1970, and drove that stupid truck all the way to Colorado.

And there was Walter – a truly talented designer who had worked for a manufacturing jeweler who did our casting for us before we obtained the capability. He came to work for us in 1973, and stayed until 1977 – but in that short time he revolutionized our line.

One of Walters

There were so many. Kirk and Steve. Brian and Lissa. The studious and talented Scott, from New York. And dear, sweet Linda. And the local Topanga boys, Like Little Ricky, and Fleetfoot and Charlie. So many players, and so much drama, love, and pain. We had something special. Maybe “may you live in interesting times” isn’t necessarily a curse.

Three old farts:John, Larry and Mark. Still here to tell the tale.