Brian Munoz probably summarized it best; after getting a few “to-go orders” for a beer run, he went to the Liquor Box, filled his truck with cases, and when he started pulling out of the parking lot heading down Nautilus St – that’s when he slammed on his brakes. He suddenly had become the caboose of a freight train of police cars heading to WindanSea Beach.
It was known fact in La Jolla, any whisper or rumor of a Mac Meda party the cops, press, and school authorities took it seriously, or in this day of age, “A Terrorist Attack,” and became anal about the carnage of drinking, destruction, and sex that a Mac Meda Convention would generate. In this particular case, WindanSea Beach was going to be the targeted area and this time, the departments heads of police were determine to break up the outlaw group once and for all.
All available resources were called in for this July, 13th, 1968 Convention.
The cops were waiting at the top of Nautilus St; when the time came, they swarmed down on WindanSea parking lot like flies on shit . In reality, the only destructiveness was caused by a rookie cop who rolled his car.
For a Meda Convention it was relativity peaceful. Just a bunch of La Jolla beach goers, some had their children, listening to a band that has set up underneath the WindanSea Shack, enjoying friends and consuming as much alcohol as their tan tummies could hold.
And things started with a bit of fun with someone throwing out a few colored smoke bombs, which probably signaled the police to press accelerators (no doubt, thinking something was being burn down) and suddenly Neptune and Bonair was flooded and blocked with black and whites.
With a smoked filled, war zone looking Neptune Place and parking lot, and sirens blaring, partiers did not know what the fuck was going on! – many started running down the beach, and jumping into the water.
A smoke bomb was thrown in a cop car and with that, the peaceful crowd of over 300 suddenly found themselves targeted by over zealous law enforcement.
Some were chased all the way to Sea Lane (about a ½ mile). Chris Hendricks recalls, he wanted to get the hell out but his VW bug was sardined by police cars.
The Mac Meda Destruction Company was always known for its big drunken beer orgies or “Conventions,” they threw at WindanSea, Sea Lane, Marine St, Carmel Valley and various other areas in the country. And this one was the last until the Meda Convention that ended all Conventions at the Pumphouse 10 years later, but that’s another post.
“Back then,” Macpherson once told a reporter, “the cops hated us so much that you could get arrested for walking down the street in a Mac Meda shirt.”
And in all fairness, when all said and done, the “beat cops” really saw no outlaw group that the press had for the last few years portrayed them to be, just a bunch of fun and sun worshipers, enjoying the beach; later on some joked and chatted with the locals.
There was only two arrested, one was for being drunk in public and the other for disturbing the peace – but it did not stop the newspapers from headlining the “Major Drunken Beer Bust” the next day.