Lost Boys as name always reminds me of the 1987 movie about vampires and being forever young. I went to Santa Cruz in 1992 and saw the boardwalk, walked the train trellis—not that high above the river—and enjoyed the beach. An earthquake in 1989 still had the town looking a bit boarded up like a western and there were runaways, but it was not exactly the fictional Santa Carla, the murder capital of the world, from the film. In research for my writing, I learned a new coinage