Rick and Stan Visit Mario's
In college I befriended several people with whom I remain in contact. When we are together now, talk often turns to our days at San Jose Bible College where we met. One of these people is Rick Criscione and we now happen to live in the same town, Turlock, CA, go to the same church and remain friends.
Rick grew up in San Jose and attended Yerba Buena High School from where he graduated in 1976, making him about one year younger than me. I was already at SJBC when he arrived. I don’t recall how we met, other than it was a small campus with about 200 students in attendance. But we eventually got acquainted and became pals. Rick came to the school with two other guys he had grown up with – Mark Thompson and Rodney Williams and there are stories about them, too, but that’ll have to wait.
The following school year Rick and I decided to be roommates and began looking for an apartment. Another student, Steve Walker, said he was also looking for roommates and he had already put a deposit on a two-bedroom place one block from school at the “780’s” which was its address and where many other SJBC students resided. Rick and I would take one of the bedrooms and Steve took the other with an as-yet-to-be-named draft pick.
Prior to moving in, Steve interviewed some guys and settled on one guy from Los Alamos, New Mexico. Steve wanted Rick and I to meet him first so we four met at a now forgotten location. My first impression of guy was not the best based on his look and style of dress. He was short, wore glasses, and had thinning hair and a scraggly beard. He was very quiet and did not appear to be a good candidate. The fact he was wearing a navy blue pea coat gave me pause. In short, I was certain that this George Gardner guy was a drug user and maybe even a dealer. I later told Rick, “Man! That guy has been around the block! I don’t know if I trust him to live with us.” At this moment, I am laughing because I learned how far off base my first impression of him was. In spite of my objections, Steve wanted George to be his roomie and as the “owner” of the place, his wishes were respected. I have a couple of “George” stories which will also have to wait, but to make a long story short, not only had George NEVER used drugs, he had never been drunk or even tasted alcohol. He ended up, after college also working for the Probation Department for more than 25 years. To this day, we are the best of friends.
Now, back to the Rick story... One night Rick and I went to the Capitol Drive-In to see a movie. Rain was threatening but it waited until the movie was almost over before it began to sprinkle. It was late as we drove back to our apartment but we decided to stop off and see Rick’s dad, Art at his place of business. He worked at a bar called Mario’s on Almaden Expressway where he was the head bouncer. I soon found why they wanted him for that job. It was a Hispanic bar and a very rowdy place. Rick’s dad was a tough and his look was intimidating. He is Sicilian and at the time I think he had a 58 inch chest, a 28 inch waist and huge biceps.
Rick and I went to the front door. Art was close to the door and when he saw us he told us to come on in so he could show us around. We walked through the club which was full of people who were drunk, laughing and having a good time. In one area he pointed to some small holes in the wall which had been put there by a patron the week before with his pistol. Apparently, the guy didn’t want his wife dancing with the guy who got shot at. I asked Art if there were a lot of fights there. He acknowledged there were and that something bad happened almost every night.
After the short tour we headed for the exit so we could go outside to talk where it was quieter. As we were leaving, five guys came in who did not want to pay the cover charge. They were arguing with the woman who was taking the money. When one of them pushed her, it was on! Art grabbed the guy and told other bouncers to get everyone outside. We all flowed through the exit out into the parking lot where a big fight between bouncers and would-be patrons erupted. I stood there not really knowing what to do. Rick’s dad was knocking guys down and Rick was by his father trying to help him. By now, it was raining and the parking lot was wet and slippery.
At one point Art had a guy in a headlock and was jerking him around, all the while beating him about the head and shoulders. Suddenly, one of the combatants pulled a pint of whiskey from his back pocket and cocked back his arm to throw it at Art. I was behind him a couple of feet so I quickly reached out, grabbed the guy and pulled him back toward me. I socked him as hard as could in the face and threw him to the pavement and the bottle broke in his hand as it hit the ground. The guy was surprised and somewhat dazed so I thought the fight was over, but no. He stood up, retrieved a switchblade knife from his pocket and came toward me. I backed up and considered pushing him into the traffic that was speeding by on Almaden Expressway. Fortunately for me, a half dozen SJPD cars came screaming up and the guy took off at a run.
The officers arrested a couple of the guys and talked to Art who was well known to them due to his working at Mario’s. A cop came over to Rick and I to get our story. He asked us our names and what our occupations were to which we answered we were college students. He asked, “What college?” Simultaneously, we hung our heads and mumbled, “San Jose Bible College.” He didn’t comment on that but I wondered what he thought about two Bible College students being at such a notorious bar or any bar, for that matter. Rick’s dad came over and told the officer that Rick was his son and that we had come by to say hello. We were released at the scene.
Rick grew up in San Jose and attended Yerba Buena High School from where he graduated in 1976, making him about one year younger than me. I was already at SJBC when he arrived. I don’t recall how we met, other than it was a small campus with about 200 students in attendance. But we eventually got acquainted and became pals. Rick came to the school with two other guys he had grown up with – Mark Thompson and Rodney Williams and there are stories about them, too, but that’ll have to wait.
The following school year Rick and I decided to be roommates and began looking for an apartment. Another student, Steve Walker, said he was also looking for roommates and he had already put a deposit on a two-bedroom place one block from school at the “780’s” which was its address and where many other SJBC students resided. Rick and I would take one of the bedrooms and Steve took the other with an as-yet-to-be-named draft pick.
Prior to moving in, Steve interviewed some guys and settled on one guy from Los Alamos, New Mexico. Steve wanted Rick and I to meet him first so we four met at a now forgotten location. My first impression of guy was not the best based on his look and style of dress. He was short, wore glasses, and had thinning hair and a scraggly beard. He was very quiet and did not appear to be a good candidate. The fact he was wearing a navy blue pea coat gave me pause. In short, I was certain that this George Gardner guy was a drug user and maybe even a dealer. I later told Rick, “Man! That guy has been around the block! I don’t know if I trust him to live with us.” At this moment, I am laughing because I learned how far off base my first impression of him was. In spite of my objections, Steve wanted George to be his roomie and as the “owner” of the place, his wishes were respected. I have a couple of “George” stories which will also have to wait, but to make a long story short, not only had George NEVER used drugs, he had never been drunk or even tasted alcohol. He ended up, after college also working for the Probation Department for more than 25 years. To this day, we are the best of friends.
Now, back to the Rick story... One night Rick and I went to the Capitol Drive-In to see a movie. Rain was threatening but it waited until the movie was almost over before it began to sprinkle. It was late as we drove back to our apartment but we decided to stop off and see Rick’s dad, Art at his place of business. He worked at a bar called Mario’s on Almaden Expressway where he was the head bouncer. I soon found why they wanted him for that job. It was a Hispanic bar and a very rowdy place. Rick’s dad was a tough and his look was intimidating. He is Sicilian and at the time I think he had a 58 inch chest, a 28 inch waist and huge biceps.
Rick and I went to the front door. Art was close to the door and when he saw us he told us to come on in so he could show us around. We walked through the club which was full of people who were drunk, laughing and having a good time. In one area he pointed to some small holes in the wall which had been put there by a patron the week before with his pistol. Apparently, the guy didn’t want his wife dancing with the guy who got shot at. I asked Art if there were a lot of fights there. He acknowledged there were and that something bad happened almost every night.
After the short tour we headed for the exit so we could go outside to talk where it was quieter. As we were leaving, five guys came in who did not want to pay the cover charge. They were arguing with the woman who was taking the money. When one of them pushed her, it was on! Art grabbed the guy and told other bouncers to get everyone outside. We all flowed through the exit out into the parking lot where a big fight between bouncers and would-be patrons erupted. I stood there not really knowing what to do. Rick’s dad was knocking guys down and Rick was by his father trying to help him. By now, it was raining and the parking lot was wet and slippery.
At one point Art had a guy in a headlock and was jerking him around, all the while beating him about the head and shoulders. Suddenly, one of the combatants pulled a pint of whiskey from his back pocket and cocked back his arm to throw it at Art. I was behind him a couple of feet so I quickly reached out, grabbed the guy and pulled him back toward me. I socked him as hard as could in the face and threw him to the pavement and the bottle broke in his hand as it hit the ground. The guy was surprised and somewhat dazed so I thought the fight was over, but no. He stood up, retrieved a switchblade knife from his pocket and came toward me. I backed up and considered pushing him into the traffic that was speeding by on Almaden Expressway. Fortunately for me, a half dozen SJPD cars came screaming up and the guy took off at a run.
The officers arrested a couple of the guys and talked to Art who was well known to them due to his working at Mario’s. A cop came over to Rick and I to get our story. He asked us our names and what our occupations were to which we answered we were college students. He asked, “What college?” Simultaneously, we hung our heads and mumbled, “San Jose Bible College.” He didn’t comment on that but I wondered what he thought about two Bible College students being at such a notorious bar or any bar, for that matter. Rick’s dad came over and told the officer that Rick was his son and that we had come by to say hello. We were released at the scene.
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