AN EVENING ON THE HILL
AN EVENING ON THE HILL By Tom Takao On a October evening at the turn of the century, when the headlights on I 5 were coming on, and the parking lot on the hill in Encinitas reflected the colors of day’s end. Alex Villalobos Within a moment’s notice Tom Eberly walks into his shop from the parking lot. Lynchie walks in from the glassing room. Our paths had crossed before, in 1968, Wayne along with Nat Young, and Paul Witzig, were walking up the beach to Domes, preparing for the 1968 World Surfing Championship to begin. I had just purchased a bottle of grape soda from Maria and was taking a sip when they walked by. Returning back to the hallway, Hank Byzak one of the shapers still around that evening came from his shaping room. Da’vid, who after having a practice jam session with Steve Clark in his shaping room, appears at the entrance with his guitar in hand after Hank. Instead of the music stopping and having everyone look for a chair. The guys wedged their places on the hallway floor as Andrew kept playing. Hey I said to myself, life is full of pleasant surprises. I spotted a box of masking tape and proceeded to wrap by thoughts on that particular spot. It was a modified Blues song about the woes of a shaper. The song could have been about any shaper, but since Tom was looking at Hank, he became the song. A couple verses goes by, and a ooh yah was Lynchie response, who was standing near one corner of the hallway. He joins in and adds to the song. Having plenty of blues to sing about also, Byzak kneeling in the opposite corner of the hallway joins in with verses of his own. The Trio were creating verses that fitted the hallway to a T. The setting had a campfire type of atmosphere with a slight polyester resin smell blended with a shopping bag full of empty beer cans. There was a laugh here and a laugh there and the background vocals bounced off the wall and added to the tune. Andrew kept on playing for just awhile longer, knowing it was downhill from where he was sitting. The song faded to an expected end and the guitar was returned to Da'vid. One by one they went through the door and into the night. Like the few remaining grains of sand dropping to a rest in a Dali like hourglass. 
Jim Phillips
Most of the regulars have gone home, with just a few of the local shapers still around. Pulling up in a van were Wayne Lynch, Joel Fritzgerald, Andrew and Bo, They had stopped by to check on some boards being glassed at West Coast Glassing.
As I entered into the shop with the sunset behind me, Andrew, Joel, and Alex were talking board design in the hallway. The hallway that separated the shaping room from the glassing room, no wider than 5 feet and no longer than 10. In this Dali like hourglass the footprints of the moment were recorded in the sands of time.
Hank Byzak
Steve Clark
The Righteous Brother they were not, but brothers on the hill they were. Andrew asked if he could see the guitar, and Da’vid obliged with a smile. Andrew greeted the guitar with a strum and a minor adjustment. A tune developed and the rift took the setting to the next level.
Tom Eberly
Tom was in his shaping room doorway leaning forward as if he were about to leave, instead he takes the lead on a song that would last for about 7 minutes.
Other guys on the Hill L-R Randy Wong, Ed Hagan and
Bill Bahne
Jim Phillips and Hank Byzak's office during this story.
Hank in front of the office.
