located at the entrance to Larson's Shipyard is a red telephone box and this citizen memorial with a small cannon monumented on top. There's a plaque at the base that reads:
'A father symbol to everybody'
NEWPORT HARBOR -- Elmer J. "Al" Larson, of the few remaining Newport
Harbor Wharf Rats -- men who earned nicknames as well as repaired boats -- died last week.
The perpetually baseball-capped former owner of Larson's Shipyard was 89 years old and died of heart complications March 15, his friend Edward B. "Ted" Robinson said.
"He was a father symbol to everybody," said Robinson, who bought the
shipyard from Mr. Larson in 1978. "Workers and people at the waterfront seemed to gather around him wherever he was."
Perhaps it was his generosity that drew others to him. For several
winters, he converted his shipyard into a toy workshop, donating the toy boats and planes he and his crew carved to Toys For Tots.
Or perhaps it was his knowledge and love of ships that he shared with
nearly everyone by the wharf.
"He always took his time to explain things," said Abe Parra, 38, who
began working for Mr. Larson 20 years ago, soon after he immigrated from Acapulco. "He even taught me some English."
Mr. Larson, who opened the shipyard on West Coast Highway in 1947, had
lots of experience -- sometimes too much.
"He wanted to be a fighter pilot in World War II, but they wouldn't let him," said Parra, who still repairs boats at Larson's. "They said 'You're too good at boats. You need to stay here and pull boats.' "
It was probably for the best. Mr. Larson, who began flying small planes in his 50s, once forgot to lower his landing gear. He landed on the plane's belly, grinding the propeller into the tarmac, but walked away safely.
Those who knew him said his constant cheeriness -- he affectionately
called friends and strangers "Pal-sie" -- punctuated with a toothy smile, are what made him the nucleus of the Newport nautical set.
"The smile was always there, no matter how rough he had it," Robinson
said.
Some moments of Mr. Larson's life were as rough as a gnarled anchor line.
His wife, Jean, whom he married in 1933, died of breast cancer in 1965. Robinson said Mr. Larson continued talking about his wife to friends and family up until his death.
In Mr. Larson's later years, he suffered repeated strokes, making it
difficult for him to form sentences. And he was nearly deaf after being exposed to years of cacophonous drilling and riveting without wearing earprotection. However, he was somewhat prepared for his deafness, having learned sign language from his daughter, Phyllis Larson, who was born deaf.
But Larson kept meeting his friends each week for apple and lemon
merengue pie a la mode at Coco's restaurant.
Some were old Wharf Rats -- a group of fellow shipwrights, with names
like "Big Swede" and "Crazy Charlie," who met at Beachcombers Cafe each day for coffee and conversation.
"Even though he had trouble speaking, he was still so cheerful. We'd
brighten up instantly the minute he walked in," Robinson said. "Him justsitting there made us and everybody happy."
Mr. Larson is survived by his daughter, Phyllis, and his sister, Helen
Pearson.
Services, which are open to the public, will be held at 11 a.m. today at the Chapel in Pacific View Memorial Park, 3500 Pacific View Drive,
Newport Beach.