On Leaving America - Part 16

Digging Up Bones - Part 4

WULA\1/3RD RER
DIDNT R NYK 3 ON JUNE 3, 1967.
(# FROM TIME MAGAZINE HQ, NEW YORK .
HW BOOK 2 CYS BEVE SANF
NYK  JUN 3,1967

NYK7/BEVE TO BEVEDIT.
NYK3/SANF  TO SAN FRANCISCO BUREAU
FM PARKER

Time Magazine Staff Letter Re: Haight Ashbury & Hippies

[Page 2 of 2 Pages]

IN SAN FRANCISCO MANY WORK AS POSTMEN (AND WILL WANT THAT STRANGE SIGHT DESCRIBED) BUT . . . WHAT ELSE DO THEY DO FOR BREAD. HAS THE DIGGER PHENOMENON SPREAD, WHEREBY ALTRUISTIC HIPPIES PROVIDE FOR,THEIR HUNGRY BRETHREN?  HOW D0 THEY GET THE GOODS? MUCH THEFT? ARE SQUARE BUSINESSMEN AND SHOPKEEPERS IN HIPPIE NEIGHBORHOODS SCARED Of THEM OR GROWING MORE TOLERANT?

            WILL NEED SUBSTANTIAL PARAGRAPH OR TWO IN COVER TRACING THE HISTORY OF THE PHENOMENON AND RELATING IT TO THE BEATS Of THE 50s. HISTORICALLY, WHAT THERE KOOKY SUBCULTURES HAS THE WORLD BEEN BLESSED (OR CURSED) BY SOME HIPPIE WRITERS HAVE SEEN PARALLELS BETWEEN THE EARLY CHRISTIANS AND THE HIPPIES, INDEED THE ROMAN'S THOUGHT THE EARLY CHRISTIANS WERE DAFT, TOO.  WHAT ARE THE PHILOSOPHICAL AND CULTURAL ROOTS Of THE MANY ODD STRANDS IN THE HIPPIE SCENE?  NEED SHARP QUOTES FROM EXPERTS TO DOCUMENT THIS PLUS YOUR. OWN IDEAS.

            WILL WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE HIPPIE BUSINESSMAN, THE PEOPLE WHO FEED OF THE HIPPIES AND RUN THE PSYCHODELICATESSANS, FILLMORE AUDITORIUMS, ROCK GROUPS,CAFES AND WHATEVER, THAT HIPPIES FREQUENT. HOW MUCH DO THEY MAKE? ANY FORTUNES YET?

         SINCE WI.TH THE SUMMER VACATION STARTING WE ARE BOUND TO HAVE MORE CLASHES BETWEEN SQUARE SOCIETY (FUZZ) AND HIPPIES LIKE THAT IN MANHATTANS TOMPKINS SQUARE PARK THIS WEEK, WE WILL NEED GOOD' ACTION AND DETAIL FOR NEWS PART OF OUR COVER. FOR THE REST PLEASE GO AT THE DESCRIPTION AND DELINEATION Of THE SUBCULTURE AS If YOU

WERE STUDYING THE 'SAMOANS OR, THE TROBRIAND ISLANDERS – DETACHED, COOL, PLEADING NO CAUSES AND RESISTING THE TEMPTATION TO PUT THEM DOWN, BUT WITH PLENTY OF COLOR. WILL NEED BULK OF YOUR FILES IN NEW YORK BY SATURDAY NOON, JUNE 17. PLEASE ADVISE SOONEST OF ANY SOURCES UNREACHABLE BY YOU THAT OTHER BUREAUS SHOULD REACH. ALSO PLEASE KEEP AN EYE PEELED FOR GOOD PICTURE SITUATIONS SINCE THIS IS LARGELY TERRA INCOGNITA FOR US.

           WE ARE CASTING A WIDE NET, TO ALL U S BUREAUS,TWO IN CANADA AND EIGHT OVERSEAS  POINTS FOR THIS STORY. PLEASE KEEP YOUR FILES BRIEF AND RELEVANT, IF THIS MEANS SIMPLY ADVISING US THERE'S NO HIPPY CULTURE WORTH TALKING ABOUT IN YOUR AREA, SO BE IT.

                                 

CC/653P

 

Human Be-In 1967   S.F. Golden Gate Park

Haight Street Stories

I was walking down Oak Street one Saturday afternoon and took a right on Ashbury. This was at the peak of Summer-of-Love. The last few blocks of Haight Street were closed to traffic and jammed with people, tourists and posers—residents trying to sell them something. As I came around the corner a big brute of a guy, my age—30 something, was beating the shit out of a scrawny Asian kid years younger. The kid was down and still getting punched, offering no resistance. A crowd had gathered to watch the beating. No one made a move to stop it and I felt like I should, but I didn’t. Feeling guilty I walked slowly on, then stopped to watch the scene. A woman in the crowd of voyeurs yelled to the guy doing the ass kicking.

            “I’ve got your picture! I’m going to show it to the police!”

            The crowd parted for the bully to approach her and he grabbed the camera.

            “Now you don’t have a camera, bitch.” He started walking up the sidewalk and passed by me with the hand that held the camera out in front of him. I snatched it from him. It was like a reflex. I don’t think I thought about it. Then I threw it into the crowd to where I though the woman who took the photo was.

            Bruto went nuts. I figured he would now beat the shit out of me, but that I would probably survive. He took a couple swings and missed. He was incredibly clumsy.  I thought, what the hell, maybe I can take this guy though he outweighed me by a good 50 pounds, and was in inch or two taller. But he was slow and awkward. We spared around for a few moments, neither of us connecting. Then I saw two guys come running down the sidewalk towards us. I thought, wow! I’m going to be saved. They’re going to stop this — Wrong.

            The first one threw a body block that sent me sprawling and when I was down all three began kicking me in the legs and back and ribs. I folded up into a fetal position, protecting  myself as best I could. A crowd of onlookers circled us and I kept thinking someone would stop them, or say something. No one did. They looked like clowns, dressed up in crazy tie outfits . . . watching with fascination. The three guys finally got tired of kicking me. As they left one said, “Nobody fucks with the Major!” The Major was a Hell’s Angel I found out later.

            They walked away and I got up, then went the same direction. It was still to soon to feel much pain. That would come later. There was some blood, but I’d not taken any shots to the head. I suddenly realized I had caught up with my attackers on the sidewalk, walking just a yard or so behind, but I was not afraid. The trio were done with me, and strangely enough I didn’t feel that much anger towards them. My anger was focused on those who had watched in silence. I felt good about who I was, and what I’d done, however useless it had proved. I later learned the Asian kid had cheated on some kind of drug deal with the Angels.

I’ve always wondered if the woman got her camera back.