Fayde - Part 2

Exit Zack Bocelle, enter Wayne Camp.

I had worked with Wayne in Rekkless for a couple of years, so he and I were already pretty good friends. And again we went to a pretty serious practice schedule, getting together 4 or 5 nights a week for a minimum of 3 hours each night. Most of these sessions were fueled by gallon jugs of Earnest & Julio Gallo Chablis.

After a good bit of practice, we were finally able to play out. Most of our shows were at Reds in Margate, NJ and we managed to gather a decent following. We also sponsored our own show at the Music Pier in Ocean City, NJ. We picked a charity for the proceeds, printed the tickets and sold them ourselves. We also built a pretty cool stage, with ramps on both sides of the drum riser going up to a platform that ran behind the drummer. The show was a great success, with every seat being occupied. The show went off without a hitch as well, which was pretty cool seeing as we were still building the drum riser two hours before the show.

As things progressed with the band, we started talking about taking things to the next level. We went back to the studio and recorded two more songs with Wayne on vocals (Turn Me Loose and Shoot You) and made plans to move the band to the west coast.

Each of us left at different times, with plans to meet in Los Angeles. Jim went out early and arranged for apartments for us in a building that was currently being built just off of Hollywood Boulevard. Pete Manno and I were going to be living together, so I sent money ahead to hold the apartment for us. And then I rented a U-Haul trailer, packed up all my belongings, set on my way.

Unfortunately, the band was pretty much broken up before I even got out there. There were arguments and broken property and that was it. Of course, I couldn't turn around and go back, so I arrived in L.A. on September 31, 1987. The apartment wasn't finished yet, so I rented a room in a motel right next door and settled in.

The next morning, as I was moving my truck from one side of the street to the other, I noticed the glass front of the motel start to wobble, followed by some very loud and very scary rumblings. My first 24 hours in L.A. were greeted by an earthquake measuring 5.9.

I didn't turn around right away, though the aftershocks were a good bit less than fun. But, unable to find a job and with no band to keep me there, I left about a month later. I didn't have the funds to rent another trailer to take my stuff back, so I had to pare everything down to whatever would fit in the back of the pick-up.