A Touch of Nature

September, 1963. Merced Hall, the boys’ dorm at San Francisco State College, a six story block of concrete. The floors are concrete. The ceilings and all the walls, both interior and exterior are concrete. There’s nothing about the dorm that isn’t concrete, except evenly spaced rectangular windows. Next door at a slight angle sits an…

September 1965. I moved in with a family friend named Sylvia Steingart who lived in a flat on Ashbury Street a half block up from Haight. The plan was to stay with her until I found something of my own. Sylvia had been a close friend of Ethyl and Julius Rosenberg and was keeping some…

Chapter Three – On January 14th of 1967, 30,000 people showed up in Golden Gate Park for the Human Be-In. There was some loosely knit music and some speakers spoke. Alan Ginsburg once again delivered his message of tolerance, loving compassion, impermanence, peace and non-violent resistance. Lawrence Ferlinghetti spoke of apocalyptic times and suffering humanity,…

Chapter Four – There was a small camp trailer in John and Lisa’s driveway and hence our driveway that was a celebrity in its own right, always occupied by some individual with some amazing story. Jeffrey Comanor was a song writer. A couple of his compositions, “A Famous Myth” and “Tears of Joy” were picked…

Chapter Five Paul Ann was a model by profession. She was tall with on second look substantial musculature. She mentioned that in high school she had a reputation for beating people up. I paid it little thought at the time. She had lived in New York for a few years prior to coming to San…

Chapter Six 1977. I packed up the Singer Gazelle and headed north to Washington State. I’d made this trip before but this time I said some goodbyes, not knowing what the future might hold. The Singer ran like a champ. The Scarab arrived a few days later, towed north on a trailer by a guy…

Chapter Seven. Jackie mentioned marriage. I responded “I don’t see us getting married, Jackie. I see us as friends, growing old and hanging out occasionally.” “Really” she replied. “You know, I’ve been thinking. You come down here and stay at my house every weekend. I think you should start paying something.” I laughed. “I’m serious.…

Chapter Eight. Trish enrolled at Evergreen and was looking for a genealogy class project. “How about my grandfather?” I said. My paternal grandfather, Big Harry’s father, had always been a bit of a mystery. He was a 19th century guide on Mount Rainier. Prior to that he’d been a cowboy on the open range, a…

Back at Stretch Island Trish and I walked in the vineyard, admiring the ripening grapes.“This is such a beautiful place” she said. “There’s something wonderful about food production.”“I’d say so.”“Where do you picture us going?” she asked, out of the blue.“I like you” I replied. “I like you a lot. That’s all I can say.”“So,…

Myself, Trish, Myra and Jessie caught a plane to Mexico. Flying into Puerto Vallarta we passed over agricultural lands, small farms, palm trees, a river. We landed and passed through Mexican customs and caught a cab to the condo. The place was between the highway and the beach. Cruise ships passed by on their way…