| Jack
Lilly
103
April 21, 2001
The phone rings - I say hello. "They found it!" an excited
elderly voice exclaimed. "Found what?" I asked. "Number 103 & it’s in New
Mexico", Jack stated.
 You’d think 83 year
old Jack Lilly had just gotten word that a son that had been missing for over 61
years had been found alive. And to him I guess it was something like
that. To understand this lost and found first love story, that only a biker
could appreciate, click on our archives and see the Jack Lilly story Part I.
So how’d this discovery come about? A fine gentleman named
"Marcus" was exploring the internet, looking for information when he saw our Boozefighters National web site. There, in a Jack Lilly story, he saw a
picture that caught his interest. Jack setting on his 1939 Crocker 61 OHV. The
103rd to have ever been manufactured by Alfred Crocker.
Through subsequent contacts he talked to Jack about the
treasured bike that had changed owners when WWII started. Since Jack had been
personally acquainted with Alfred and his manufacturing operation, he shared a
wealth of knowledge with the Canadian Crocker collector & rebuilder. As a matter
of fact, Jack and Red-dog came close to buying out the Crocker Plant after WWII
ended. However the remaining assets were to depleted to arrange adequate
financing, and the Crocker Company met its demise like many other American made
motorcycles did back then.
But wouldn’t it have been interesting if the deal had
worked. What if those two Boozefighters had of made a successful come back for
the "Crocker". It might still be giving the "Harley" a run for the money today
like it did in the late 30’s and early 40’s, and I’m confident the "Red-Jack M.C.
Mfg.Co." would have seen fit to always include green and white as a color scheme
selection.
Marcus is one heck of a researcher. He chases down the
history of every Crocker like a professional detective after a fugitive. Sure
enough he got a hot tip and tracked down the tire prints of old #103. It is now
owned by a collector & restorer "Daniel" that lives in New Mexico. Daniel was
kind enough to provide Marcus information and a picture of the bike and in turn
it was forwarded on to Jack.
Not only was Jack elated to find that his first love #103
was still alive and pumping strong, but the fact that it had a new coat of paint
in the colors of green and white, which added a touch of irony. It’s the colors
of the motor- cycle club he helped in forming in 1946 - the "Boozefighters."
Long live Jack Lilly, No.103, and Boozefighters Motorcycle
Club.
J.Q.-‘history’
Jack Lilly: Part 1
June 1, 2000
You mean there was Boozefighters before the Boozefighters ever existed?
Read on and learn the story.....
Once again we have been surprised and rewarded by the discovery of another
Boozefighter original. I guess you could say it was a final gift from our
recently deceased brother, "Red Dog (
see
Memorial page)?"
On the occasion of "Red Dog's" funeral in Riverside, California, a
delightful senior gentlemen came walking up to the staging area. He was wearing
a Boozefighter green and white jersey with the three star bottle on the front.
It was obvious that shirt had been around for awhile.
Other "originals," Jim Cameron, Jim Hunter, Johnny Roccio, and Gill Armas,
introduced this stranger as Jack Lilly from Anza, CA.
Jack Lilly, born December 17, 1917 in San Luis Obisto, CA was a
Boozefighter before there were Boozefighters! Heck, his parents were originals
even before him. Let me explain.....
Jack's father was riding motorcycles shortly after they were first
manufactured in the United States. By 1915, Jack's Mother was riding with
Jack's father on a bike, that was a year and a few months before Jack was a
gleam in their eyes.
At age 12, Jack got his first
motorcycle. Let's see, that would have been around 1929. He
proudly rode his 1921 "Cleveland" one lunger all over the then
small city of San Diego, Ca.
Later, Jack worked as a deliver truck driver while in school. He worked
afterwards in a machine shop and then for Douglas Aircraft until the war
(W.W.II) started.
After his father died in 1934, he and his mother moved to Los Angeles, CA.
During the late 30's he was riding a "Rudge" but wanted to progress up to a big
bike. He met a guy name George Manker (later to be another original
Boozefighter). George was having a hard time keeping up the payments on his
brand new 1939 61OV Crocker and offered to let Jack pick up the note on the
bike. That suited Jack just fine so they went down to the dealer to sign over
the papers. They cycle shop owner wasn't to keen on the idea of Jack taking
over a new bike without any investment at all and demanded a $40 reassignment
fee.
Jack explained that he didn't have any cash, but would trade in his little
Rudge cycle for that value. The dealer wasn't interested in that and refused,
still demanding cash. A young, stocky guy name "Wino" Willie Forkner (later
credited as the founder of the Boozefighter Motorcycle Club) happened to be in
the shop at the time and after over-hearing the discussion, offered to buy the
Rudge for $40. "Wino" paid Jack the money who, in turn, paid the shop owner,
signed transfer papers and rode away on his high-spirited Crocker Dream Machine.
He said everyone came out on
that deal. Manker got that big debt off his
back and bought a more affordable Indian or something. "Wino" won a few races
with the Rudge before selling it for a nice profit. And Jack ended up with the
greatest bike on the road (for that day and time).
Jack Lilly rode that bike until the war started many times with guys like
"Wino," Manker, and others that we now know to have become the "Original Wild
Ones!"
..........Jack's story goes on. Please be sure to come back next month to
read the rest of the story for a truly interesting man.
Jack Lilly: Part 2
Click on an image to enlarge...
July 1, 2000
You mean the "Boozefighters" actually
started in 1939? Well, some of the same guys rode together back then, but the "Boozefightrer"
name hadn't been thought of yet. Actually, a lot of us called our riding group
"The Characters." We even had our club name printed up on our belts, but
someone mis-spelled it so we became known as the"Caracters Club."
"So, when the war started, were you in the military?" "Yes and no," he
responded. Then he explained that he enlisted in the Air Corps since he
already had his pilots license and loved to fly. They turned him down because
he flunked the eye exam. He joined the Merchant Marines, hoping that later
he'd have another shot at the Air Corps in case they got more desperate.
After spending a lot of time in the Pacific on a freighter delivering war
materials and supplies, Jack opted to try another part of the World, the
Atlantic Ocean. He got a bus to Houston, Texas, then on to New Orleans where he
got a job on a sea-going tug. For security reasons they wouldn't tell their
destination. It pulled a bunch of barges out in the Gulf, down to and through
the Panama Canal and right back out into the Pacific.
He got assigned to a tanker name the "Roanoke," delivering oil and gas to
war ships. Once, Jack Kennedy's PT109 pulled along side and re-fueled. Jack
Lilly remembered that commander's Boston accent but didn't catch his name.
Years later he put two and two together.
At one point he was within about 100 yards of the Borneo Coast, Japanese
soldiers opened fire, but their .25 caliber bullets just bounced off. Then
Australian soldiers ambushed the Japanese and killed most of them while the
ship's crew looked on. Bombs were also sent their way a few times, but none
ever hit a ship he worked on.
Finally, in the Gilbert Islands Jack accomplished a sliver of his dream of
flying for the Army Air Corps. He got a hop on a B24 bomber and was invited to
set in as co-pilot for a while. But when they started taking anti-aircraft fire
they ran his ass off into the back. Well, at least he did get to fly in the
Air Corps.
 Lilly got back from the war in time to
spend Christmas of 1945 at home. He bought a surplus 3050 Indian and later a
1931 Harley VL and started hanging out with the lucky GI's that survived at the
Big "A" (All-American Bar).
One day he, Manker, and a couple of other guys were sitting in his
Studabaker when "Wino" came driving up on a fork lift. "Wino" ran the forks up
under the back bumper and lifted the car's rear-end into the air, then dropped
it. It was that very night the conversations got started about forming a club.
They started meeting at the Big "A" regularly and making rides together.
Eventually, they came up with the "Boozefighter" name and "Wino" appointed CB
Clausen as the president.
Jack said that during 1946 it was a pretty loose knit type of club with
very little formality. He didn't recall them having a secretary/treasurer until
1947. Most anyone that hung out and rode with them were considered members
which included guys like Johnny Roccio, Gill Armas, "Red Dog," Jim Cameron,
Johnny Davis, Bobby Kelton, CB Clausen, George Manker, "Wino" Willie and of
course Jack Lilly. He said there were others that came and went that he's
probably forgotten. In early 1947, they got a little more organized and
established some general rules and procedures for membership.
Lilly wasn't able to attend the Hollister July 4th event because his wife
was about to have a baby. However, he said he did make the Corona event shortly
afterwards. Every Boozefighter that went dyed their hair red, except "Red Dog"
and Jack Lilly. Red's hair was already that color and mine was auburn. We
looked like a band of Irishmen showing up there. "We were always doing
something crazy just for laughs."
"Did you ever race?" "Yeah, briefly," he replied with a chuckle. "In 1951
we went to Culver City to enter the speed track races. I got there too late to
run position qualifying races but when the main race began I was allowed to join
the back of the pack.
Be sure to come back next month to catch the end of Jack's Story.....
Jack Lilly: Part 3
August 12, 2000
....."As fate would have it, the leaders got tangled up and fell. Then, like
dominoes, the ones that followed fell. I was one of the few that got around the
pile-up and went on to cross the finish line first. However, during the next
race I hit the rail on turn #1 and peeled all the skin off my hand. I picked
up by bike and finished the race in last place. When I came into the pit my
wife, which was dressed like a boy because they didn't let girls in the pit,
took one look at my hand and said, 'That's it. No more racing for you boy.' I
was glad she took that stand because it was my conclusion too."
That was the only racing you did? "Other than some private races with
individuals and time trials before the war; that was it."
What were the time trials like?
"Well, I use to go out to Rosamond Dry Lake and run my Crocker. That was
the 1939 bike I was telling you about. In 1940, I clocked 105.1 mph and
that was real good for a stock bike. In those days a Harley wouldn't clock
more than about 90 or 91 mph unless you stroked them or something like CB
Clausen use to do. Man, I wish I had that Crocker back. It was #103
which meant that's how many Alfred Crocker had made to that point."
You knew Alred Crocker? "Yeah, I use to go to his little factory there in
LA and watch them put bikes together. He had about five employees. Each would
start with a frame and completely put a bike together. Alfred changed to war
sub-contracts during W.W.II and never could get his motorcycle business going
after the war ended. Those old Crockers are priceless now."
When was the last time you rode a motorcycle? "Oh, its been a couple of
years I guess. I've got two, but my eyesight has gotten so bad I don't trust
myself on one anymore."
At 82 years of age what do you do for fun? "This might sound crazy but
I've got a Quicksilver Ultra-light airplane and a 1400 acre ranch up in the
Cahuilla Indian Reservation. My wife, Lorraine, inherited the ranch from her
father, Lubo (means Wolf). During good weather I still like to fly all over the
place......."
Story by History.
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