Perhaps no American male actor has had more press coverage than the iconic James Dean. This handsome twenty-four-year-old man had just begun his career in Hollywood when his life ended tragically on September 30th 1955.
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| James Dean in his 1955 Porsche 550 Spyder |
He had appeared in only three films, but his persona was generating a sizzle among film critics.
There are more posters and t-shirts, with him looking forever young and handsome, than most people have brain cells. And there are the famous paintings, showing Dean hanging out with Humphrey Bogart, Elvis Presley, and Marilyn Monroe in bars, pool halls, movie theatres, and one with a very chilled polar bear in a hot tub.
I bought that one. Laureen told me it was fake. But who wouldn’t buy it?
In an interview conducted by MTV with Johnny Depp in 2005, the actor had this to say about Dean.
"There are moments — behavior — in 'East of Eden' that are pure magic. ‘Giant’ is pure magic; 'Rebel' is a bit dated and is sort of a strange vision of the 1950s, but his work in that was amazing."
One recent afternoon, my son-in-law, Justin, informed me that the late actor’s transaxle from his 1955 Porsche 550 Spyder sold at auction for $382,000.00.
“What?” I asked, trying to recall what a transaxle actually was.
“Yeah, part of his wrecked Porsche. The single mechanical device which combines the functions of an automobile’s transmission, axle, and differential into one integrated assembly.”
Had to agree he’s one smart guy. No father-in-law actually wants to admit that. Son-in-laws are to be the brunt of jokes.
Those are the rules.
“Maybe the purchaser should have gone to Rock Auto,” I replied. “Would have been cheaper.”
Why such a high price for a piece of a car driven by James Dean? No idea, and actually there wasn’t much left of the Spyder after the collision at the intersection of Route 466 and Route 41.
Dean was an amateur road racer, and had recently purchased the Spyder for a race in Salinas. Because the vehicle was new, it didn’t have enough break-in miles on the motor. So, his Porsche factory-trained mechanic, Rolf Wutherich, suggested driving the Spyder to Salinas for the race.
Okay, instead of towing the sports car to Salinas, there was a chance to drive it all the way there – who’d give that up? Dean didn’t.
On September 30th, he left Sherman Oaks around two in the afternoon, headed for the Grapevine and Fresno. From there, he and his companion would take the route toward Salinas.
Just south of Bakersfield, Dean was ticketed for speeding by the California Highway Patrol at three-thirty in the afternoon.
Duh, a brand new Porsche 550 Spyder.
If I had been driving that vehicle, there would have been a message sent to the CHP’s offices along the route prior to my leaving.
‘Please pre-fill out the tickets for speeding, and send them to Laureen. I just can’t drive fifty-five.’
That would make a great title for a song. In fact, I could imagine Sammy Hagar performing it.
Dean and his mechanic, Wutherich, stopped at Blackwell’s Corner to fill up the Spyder before taking off to meet up with some friends in Paso Robles later in the afternoon.
A bit peckish, Dean bought an apple and a Coke before leaving the store. He smiled, took some photographs, and then got back into the Porsche heading west on Route 466 (later changed to Highway 46).
The corner store was located near the town of Lost Hills, forty-two miles west-northwest of Bakersfield.
Being a race car, and the fact the windshield was rather limited, Dean may have donned his favorite pair of goggles when leaving Blackwell’s Corner for the drive to Paso Robles.
That’s an important thing to remember – the goggles.
Just before six in the evening, a Ford Tudor Coupe entered Highway 466 from Highway 41 and within seconds crashed head-on with Dean’s vehicle.
Witnesses said the Spyder was sent into the air, and flipped over numerous times before coming to a rest in a gulley alongside Route 466.
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| What was left of Dean's Porsche after the crash |
Wutherich was horribly injured but survived the crash. Dean did not. He died soon after being placed into an ambulance.
The driver of the Ford Tudor Coupe, Donald Turnupseed, ended up with a bloody nose and some facial injuries.
I was about to type something about Turnupseed’s name sounding a lot like ‘turn-up-the-speed’, but Laureen thought it would be better if I didn’t. Not classy, considering.
The twenty-three-year-old Navy veteran and Cal Poly student, may not have seen the Spyder heading west along Route 466. The grayish-silver, low-profiled speedster may have been hard to spot at that time of day.
It was a sadly tragic accident.
A twenty-four-year-old was dead, and a twenty-three-year-old might blame himself forever for that accident.
Laureen and I were heading to Monterey, not long ago and were traveling Highway 46 westbound.
“Did you see that sign?” she asked.
“Spiritual? Or highway?”
“The one we just passed that said this was the James Dean Memorial Junction.”
Missed that. A quick and safe U-turn took us back to the intersection of Highway 41 and Highway 46.
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| John at the junction of 46 & 41 |
We parked far off the pavement, looked both ways, and then sauntered off toward the highway sign Laureen had noticed. There was also a memorial to Dean along a chain-linked fence on the north-west corner of the highways.
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| Make-shift memorial to James Dean |
Even with traffic speeding by us on all sides, the location was eerily serene. Here, at this spot, one of America’s up and coming actors had been killed by a freak accident.
The memorial had flowers, ribbons of various colors, hand painted signs about James Dean, and a small heart shaped locket hanging from the fence.
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| Laureen at the intersection where James Dean lost his life |
We wondered and pondered, what it must have been like when those first people came across such a horrific car crash. It must have been heart-rending.
It was touching. We didn’t say much to each other, the place deserved quiet and reflection.
Forgetting for the moment that we were originally heading west toward Monterey, we turned around and headed east, back to Blackwell’s Corner, located at the intersection of State Route 46 and State Route 33. George Blackwell had opened a rest stop at the location in 1921 for road weary travelers. The name of the corner is in honor of him.
The place was hopping with tourists. Besides being a gas station, this is the place to go for any kind of pistachios. They had garlic onion, hickory smoked, roasted salted and peppered, chili lemon, and more than I wanted to jot down. There was home-made fudge, home-made cookies, home-made pickles, and a bunch of other home-made products that were never made in my home.
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| John standing next to a very tall James Dean |
It’s a large place, this Blackwell’s Corner, and everywhere the guest would look there was the history of the region along the walls and the floor space.
Photographs of James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, and others showing Hollywood’s best during the 1950’s.
There was a tribute to John Steinbeck, one of my favorite authors, depicting a pick-up truck loaded down like the one the Jarod family may have driven to the West along Route 66. Packed to the gills with everything a fleeing family would need to make a new home for themselves in California.
And of course, there is an entire hallway in honor of a customer who had stopped by on that fateful September 30th day in 1955.
There are photographs of him adorning the walls. Newspaper clippings of his film success as well as his obituary. And one piece of equipment the young actor may have worn that day - that last day of his life.
His goggles.
After the accident, passersby, stopped by the crash site and some decided that pieces of the carnage laying around were free to take.
There’s a tale of a young woman snatching Dean’s goggles from the ground, and hiding them in her purse.
Sixty-two years later, a family member donated them to Blackwell’s Corner as a museum piece – and they are now there behind bullet proof glass.
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| James Dean goggles, picked up by a passerby |
There’s debate over whether Dean was wearing the goggles at the time of his death, or if they just happened to be in the vehicle at the time of the accident.
Does it really matter?
A celebrity is killed - grab what can be taken from the scene and auction them off. But, in this case, the family finally did the right thing.
Driving a highway is one of the great adventures we can enjoy. You never know what you may run across.
Even a memorial to a forever twenty-four-year-old actor, by the name of James Byron Dean.
