I have written about Bruce Logan the skateboarder quite often in this column. How he along with his family members: mother Barbara, oldest brother Brian, younger brother Brad and sister, Robin became known as “The First Family of Skateboarding.”
Three Logan’s: Bruce, Brian and Robin are in the Skateboarding Hall of Fame (SHF.) Brad is also certain to make the list soon, as should the entire Logan Family. (While I’m on that topic, I would like to throw Herbie Fletcher’s name into the hat of SHF nominees.)
The Logan team was unrivaled in its day with the family itself leading the way, followed by brilliant skaters and legends like Laura Thornhill, Tony Alva and Jay Adams. Still, it was Bruce in the mid-’70s who took the sport beyond its “Sidewalk Surfing” roots into a sport of its own.
The original skateboarders were all surfers and Bruce and his siblings were no exception. He was a small kid dragging his balsawood Velzy/Jacobs to the sand at 5th Street near his Hermosa Beach home. There, the boy turned heads under the banner of the Bay Cities Surf Club, which, if I recall correctly was sponsored by Bing Surfboards.
While Bruce loved skateboarding, surfing was his first love and even in mid-winter, he would stay in the water for hours in trunks or a “short John” wetsuit, a sleeveless urethane suits cut off below the knee.
There’s a photo of Bruce on the nose on a small day taken by for Surfer Magazine top dog, Steve Wilkins. This was in 1963 when Logan was 11 years old and just coming on. Not long afterward he began surfing competitively. He placed high among the best in the state.
Like many of his time, Bruce quit surfing shortly beyond middle age. He had planned on returning to the sport when several years ago a car broke nine of his bones and left him in a coma for 18 days after hitting him.
As with all things life throws at him, Bruce survived the challenge, and while he has no noticeable disabilities, there is an understandable reluctance on his part to return to surfing.
I recently went camping at San Onofre with Logan where we planned on riding the gentle waves there, me on my eight-foot Frye Fish and he on an 8’6” gifted him by our mutual friend, Roy Latas.
When we arrived at San Onofre, however, the line to get into and beach park was in excess of an hour. So, instead of riding waves that afternoon, we retuned to the campground, ate and reminisced about past waves and the people we rode them with.
At this writing, Bruce and I walk every afternoon before returning to my garage to workout on the speed bag and the heavy bag.
The workout leaves us tired and happy, and one step closer to the day when Bruce will once again make his way into the local lineup. I know many of you out there are like me, looking forward to the time when Bruce Logan will ride again.