Being Lucky--Winning Contests in California

By C. MacDonald

Long before Lottery Tickets, there were all sorts of contests to win prizes in California. I remember my sister used rocks in her backyard to spell out the call letters of a radio station. The station's helicopter flew around the Bay Area and if it spotted the letters you'd win a prize. I knew a woman in Brea, who was so good at guessing the name of songs on Los Angeles radio that she ended up winning a free trip to China. Some people win concert tickets by being the 10th caller.

In hopes of winning prizes, I've dropped tickets into bottles, guessing the number of jelly beans; bought certain cereals, which said you could win $100 if you found a special marking inside the box; and tried to guess the identity of a woman opera singer (I even taped it and took the recording to an actual opera singer I knew but still couldn't identify the singer).

A newspaper in San Jose once had a really clever Treasure Hunt contest, which used poetry to describe where $10,000 was hidden. The paper had a morning and evening edition and each edition had another line of poetry leading you to the fortune. Their circulation must have skyrocketed because that contest became the talk of the town and lasted several weeks. Everyone rushed to purchase a paper as soon as they hit the stands. (Maybe papers need to do that to help stay afloat today.)

I've entered many contests. One of my favorites was sponsored by a milk company which advertised, "Everyone who enters, wins!" I liked those odds and indeed won a miniature rubber cow.

But my biggest moment came at a sixth grade picnic. I placed the bottom half of my meal ticket in a gigantic jar, which showed hundreds of other entries. The prizes were a sailboat, Hi-Fi set, cooler and a year's supply of tomato sauce.

No, I did not win the tomato sauce. I won the cooler, rather peculiarly, many thought. For some still unknown reason, perhaps it was my long, waving arm, I was selected out of the large, massive audience, to draw the winning tickets.

To everyone's shock, including my own, with my eyes closed I drew my stub out of the jar. I must admit I felt a bit embarrassed, walking to the table to collect my prize.

I still remember how everyone looked at me, with suspicious, if not hostile faces. Or so it seemed. "How did you do it," my peers asked. "It's all in the touch," I said somewhat professionally. "You might say I have had a feel for contest tickets over the years." I still have that prize cooler to this day!