New Life Service Company

 

New Life Service Company was a vinyl and leather repair company run by the Gospel Outreach Church of New York. It was the primary source of income for the communal houses in Brooklyn and Queens.  There were also those from the Long Island branch of G.O. who lived in their own homes but were part of the business as well.

New Life Service Company would go to new and used car dealerships in Manhattan, the Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens and in Staten Island. In Long Island, New Life serviced dealerships in Nassau and Suffolk Counties.

New Life Service Company was in the business of repairing torn vinyl and leather car seats. Eventually New Life got into the business of pinstriping cars as well.

New Life's office was in Lynbrook New York in Nassau County Long Island. For those of us commuting from Brooklyn or Queens, this was a godsend because more often than not, we were going opposite of traffic.

At the New Life office, we'd get our assignments for the day. Many assignments were by appointment. Generally if you got an appointment to repair a car at a dealership in Queens, it was likely you'd be at dealerships in Queens the rest of the day. If business was slow, one was assigned territory in one of the boroughs to go through their used car lots, looking for holes and scratches, bringing a list of what you found.

On some days, you'd go out in teams of two, but in most cases, you went out on your own in a car provided by G.O.

After one received their assignments and got general instructions for the day ,the briefing would end with a prayer session and you were on your way.

This was a much different gig than working in a bakery in rural Alaska. I didn't like the speed and agressiveness of New York. Navigating New York's traffic was a difficult endeavor. A day didn't go by where I wasn't cut off, flipped off or yelled at. I should add that I got my first drivers license in New York after failing the drivers test 3 times over parallel parking. In New York City parallel parking is a critical skill to have. Now I can parallel park with the best of em...

I wasn't very good at vinyl repair and I didn't like doing it much either which obviously isn't a good combination. Most people would see it that way, but again New Life was running under a different set of rules. New Life was part of our "Discipleship" journey. God was leading us as bright lights into these wicked car dealerships. Dealerships where ungodly music was played and where mechanics would post pictures of naked women. By overcoming such tempations coupled by our good works, we would bring those sinners closer to the Lord. It also was a primary source of income for the Gospel Outreach Ministry of New York.

To do vinyl repair, one had to work with chemicals, mainly one called MEK. It was used to strip down the paint in the car seat. It had a strong aroma and one didn't want to be in an enclosed space using MEK. It would give you a chemical high and besides not only is a chemical high not healthy but as good Christians working for New Life Service Company, we werent supposed to get high anyhow.

After stripping down the affected area, we'd fill the tear with a liquid vinyl and weld it to the seat with a heat gun. At different times, my arms were full of burns from the heat gun. We had rubber like patterns that once the seat was warm enough, you'd press down on the affected area and the pattern was supposed to match the pattern in the car.

Lastly we had paints which were supposed to match the colors of the seats. We had custom paints for all GM and Ford cars.

We'd charge these dealerships a minimum of $25 which in 1970's New York was a fair amount of money. Of course I'd see dealers change our invoices and charge the customer sometimes over $100. Sometimes a $25 repair would take 10-15 minutes of time. Everyone had an assigned quota to meet.

I was paired up with another person for a long time..longer than the managers who also happened to be church "elders" would have liked. I'd overheat the car seat, turning a simple burn hole into a massive gash, I'd use the wrong pattern and if by chance I got those areas right, I'd mismatch the paint. A 15 minute job would often turn into a 2 hour job much to the dismay of the car dealership and my managers. I'm imagining that the elder/managers had to do a lot of praying after hearing an earful from an angry New York car dealer complaining about my work. I'd get paired up with other New Life workers hoping I'd pick up something from their techniques and methods, but what would happen is I'd slow them down from making their assigned quotas,so it came to a point where I had to sink or swim.

                            Memorable Moments

I destroyed an entire used car lot by hitting reverse accidently on a Ford Pinto followed by hitting the accelerator instead of the brake. Didnt get hurt,but needless to say the manager/elders were told in no uncertain terms never to send me to that dealership again.

The nice part of driving for New Life when I'd be on my own, was I'd fall into temptation and listen to the radio going between car dealerships. There were the news stations, WINS and WCBS were accepted stations by elder/managers. The mid 70's was an interesting time to live in New York. Garbage Strikes, the .44 caliber killer also known as Son of Sam was running loose and there was the activities of Mayor Ed "How am I doing?" Koch.  I found myself listening to the news on National Public Radio NPR's news was particularly interesting to me because they would segue into various features using music. I liked the music and my curiosity got the best of me..up and down the radio dial I'd go until one day I found the music they played on NPR. It was the Pat Metheny Group! I had to hear more,but I knew in doing so I might be going down the pathway to hell.

There was also talk radio. I liked Barry Gray and Barry Farber on WMCA. Both had interesting, thought provoking talk which was great for someone who had to quietly sneak over to the Brooklyn Library to read non Christian books and not tell anyone where I went.

But the music to explore..there was WNBC,Imus in the Morning or the soul sounds of Frankie Crocker at WBLS or Gerry Bledsoe at WWRL. I'd hear International sounds on WLIB where I also once caught my brother repping for the Communist Workers Party. Once you drove up to the dealers,you heard what the mechanics were listening to. If I worked in Brooklyn or Queens,I was likely to hear disco music from WKTU in the work stations. In Long Island it was likely to be Boston or the Steve Miller Band.

Although I wasnt supposed to question that working for New Life Service Company was part of God's calling in my life, I did. I once questioned it in the form of a man named James. James lived across the street from GO's communal house in Brooklyn where I lived. James was about the only person in the neighborhood who would regularly attend our church services in the house and in so doing he and I were the blacks in attendance. The neighborhood was predominately Black and Puerto Rican during a time when disco ran supreme and where I was living amongst all whites where all of us still looked and dressed like hippies from the previous era. James was a caring man. He'd stop by our house on a regular basis to check in and perhaps listen to a bible teaching,perhaps he would engage in prayer with someone in the house. He would always invite us over to his apartment. One day I took him up on his invitation. I remember picking up the strong stench of urine upon entering the apartment building. For more reasons than one,it was safer to use the steps leading to James's apartment than to use the elevator. When I reached James apartment,I realized on one level he wasnt freaked out by our communal presence as he had at least 10 people including babies crammed into his space. I read Bible passages to him. When I handed the Bible over to him,he confessed to me he didnt know how to read. James was my age and I was in my mid twenties at the time.

On another occasion James and I were talking and the subject of the New York City subways came up. James told me he had never been outside of Brooklyn,had never taken the subway into Manhattan. By this time I had travelled through over half of the United States. Despite being "Discipled" by doing and regularly failing at vinyl repair,I never totally gave up the hope of returning to college and finishing off my degree. The elder.managers didnt knowit,but when I'd go to the Library,I'd arrange for college catalogs to be sent to my mom's house. She had told me that if I chose to leave GO she'd help me get on my feet and help get me back into college. Mom was a teacher and for years I rebelled against the very thought of following in her footsteps,but now when faced with James,I thought maybe my "ministry" should be to teach and help people like James to read. I presented this to the elder/managers. It was rejected. In the rejection,it was said that perhaps my failures at vinyl repair was God's attempts at humbling me.

Because both of us were failing at vinyl repair,at one point the elder/managers assigned me to work with a man named Michael Lanzilotta. Michael was an excellent pianist,one could tell from his style at the worship services that he had listened to quite a bit of jazz before becoming a part of G.O. Michael had the same experiences learning the business as I had. On top of it,his hands would react to the chemicals used in vinyl repair. This was particularly disturbing for someone who uses his hands for music. When he brought up to the elder/managers how MEK affects his playing he was told that God was humbling him. Michael and I were paired together to sink or swim as a vinyl repair team. For awhile it worked.We were getting jobs done in reasonable time and no one was complaining about our work. We had fun between jobs. We'd do impressions..various Evangelical preachers,Neil Young,but the one we most enjoyed was Michael as Howard Cosell and me as Muhammad Ali. There was even talk that because the pairing was working so well,New Life would make a general exception and let Michael and I work together on a permanent basis. Then it started to happen again, too long on repairs,wrong patterns,wrong paint. One day instead of being given any assigned car dealers to service,Michael and I were left to try and sell our services to various dealerships. After a couple "You get outta here" and "Didnt I tell your manager never to send you two here again?" things got discouraging. Michael and I pulled over on a street near a grocery store we then went into an impromptu skit revolving around Howard Cosell and Muhammad Ali disguised as janitors. A couple folks gave us money. We didnt make much money but we made more doing the skit than we did vinyl repair

As I mentioned before,in addition to vinyl repair,New Life Service Company began to offer pinstriping in addition to vinyl repair. I was as bad at pinstriping as I as was at repairing car seats. I just never got the knack of making a straight line. Nevertheless on occasion I was sent on a pinstriping assignment.

One particular assignment was at a Used Car dealership in Valley Stream New York (Long Island) I was assigned a number of pinstripes to do. Elder/Manager Steve prior to going out just told me to take my time. The Used Car lot in Valley Stream was an outdoor lot. One of the things I liked to do when I wasnt paired up with anyone besides Michael Lanzilotta was  to turn the car that I was repairing on. Most times it was to listen to forbidden music,but on this occasion I had to turn the car on to listen to the American League Baseball Playoff between the Boston Red Sox and New York Yankees. How many times can it be said that I hate the New York Yankees. What made it worse was during that same mid seventies period when I lived in New York was while the Yankees were on top,my beloved New York Mets were at their lowest point,playing their worst baseball since their inception in 1962. I had a fond spot in my heart for the Boston Red Sox being a Connecticut native. The Red Sox hadnt been to the World Series in years while it seemed like the Yankees were in the Series every other year.

As usual as it seemed, I was having difficulty making a straight pinstripe,but the good news was the Boston Red Sox were leading the Yankees. I had attended a Red Sox-Yankees game at Yankee Stadium earlier that season. I remember a couple Red Sox fans being carried out bloodied. This was going to be the game where the Red Sox take down the Yankees and where the bloodied Red Sox fan was going to get the last laugh.The pinstriping was going slowly but progress was being made. Mike Torrez seemed to be mowing the Yankees down and even with a couple Yankees on base,Bucky Dent,a light hitting shortstop the Yankees obtained from the Chicago White Sox was up at bat. No Threat.. Bucky Dent was no threat till he hit a three run homer. Yankees go up,pinstripe in my hand goes slamming down,pinstripe takes out paint on the car. Manager sees the damaged car and tells me to "Get Outta Here" Elder/Manager Steve heard a few choice words too as he was told to never send me there again.

                             David's Comeback

There was a short period where  I was getting by with no complaints and while I had the lowest quota expectation at New Life,I was mostly making it or was coming close enough to it. Thar said,I was still somewhat surprised when I was assigned to repair a scratch on a leather seat at a Mercedes dealership in Manhattan. I heard stories of customers being charged $300-400 for repairs New Life was charging the dealership $100

This was going to be a simple $100 repair. I had sucessfully taken out the scratch and had even matched the color correctly. However,in spraying the seat,I had gotten some of the overspray on the car's back window.

Many Mercedes then had plastic windows. I was afraid to use the MEK on the window. That stuff could kill anything,so I tried some of the rubbing alcohol in my kit. Alcohol took the paint off,but left a fog on the plastic window. I thought it would go away but it wouldnt and the Mercedes manager,getting very nervous wasnt going to sign off until the fog on the window went away. I applied more alcohol to the window,the fogged area on the window grew larger and the Mercedes manager is getting madder. Now thinking I have no other choice,I apply MEK to the window. Not only does it do nothing to fix the window,but the bottle of MEK that I left on the leather seat spills and as a result the entire leather seat begins to bubble up. At this point the Mercedes  manager tells me to pack up my stuff and leave.

When I heard from Elder/Manager Steve,he was livid. "We're having to replace the window and the entire leather seat! Do you know whose car you ruined?? REGGIE JACKSON!! For those unfamiliar with baseball,Reggie Jackson was the star outfielder for the New York Yankees. He's been American League and World Series Most Valuable Player. For a time there was a candy bar the Reggie Bar selling in New York.

An immediate inner smile occured at that point. I had (although quite by accident) taken down a New York Yankee.

At one point Elder/Manager Gary was assigned to assist me with vinyl repair.In addition of him being highly regarded in the field,he was there to give me guidance.

Elder/Manager Gary to me: If you dont get this vinyl repair right and learn your lessons from God,I can see in a few years you will be reciting poetry at some bohemian coffee shop.

I guess he may have been prophetic..

27 Years ago..(Rose)

27 years ago today,my life changed with the premier of my first play Malcolm X meet Peter Tosh at the Cedar Cultural Center. Little did I realize that 27 years later,I'd still be onstage or that I would have received awards for my writings or that it would put me on stages around the country and in Europe,not to mention putting me in contact with some of the most interesting people one could imagine.

All of that has been rather mindboggling,but here is a story about what was probably the most profound and lasting change from that event from 27 years ago.

By this time I had been divorced from Rose's mother. We were all living in Minneapolis at the time. Rose was living with her mom during the week,and I would have her from Friday night to Sunday. Weekend dads are often the "fun" parent. There's so little time with your child,that generally one just does the trips to the park,the buying of ice cream and the activities that create little conflict. In fact,because there is so little time,one tries to avoid conflict as much as possible.
There are times,no matter how "fun" one wants to make things,a parent has to exercise some discipline and authority and that's where the trouble would begin.

From a very young age,Rose had been taught that because of my marijuana usage and my embrace of radical politics and a countercultural lifestyle that I was "bad". I met Rose's mom shortly after leaving an Evangelical Christian group and I remember her saying once that if she had met me during my college days as a radical pot smoking hippie she would have never hooked up with me,so I guess as I came back into myself our split up was inevitable.
All children like to push back at their parents to some degree,but Rose's rebellion seemed to go beyond what a kid her age would do and some of her actions were of great concern to me. I then discovered that because I was "bad" that Rose was taught not to listen to anything I said.

Malcolm X Meet Peter Tosh was created as much out of desperation as it was a burst of creative energy. The New Riverside Cafe,the West Bank restaurant I was a coop owner was beginning to fail. I could see the handwriting on the wall. With its failure was coming the end of my plans to return to school finish my degree and become a high school history teacher. Being a co owner and the profits derived from the Riv was going to give me the funds and flexibility to do so. It was also becoming clear that I was losing the battle to have any influence with Rose in matters of substance.
Rose's first notable passion was her participation in a school play. She loved it so much that despite feeling sick,she insisted on going to school on the day her play was staged at Armitage Elementary School in Minneapolis.

Originally,Malcolm X Meet Peter Tosh was scheduled for a staged reading at the Walker Art Center and the decision to stage the full play at the Cedar was powered by the Walker's last minute cancellation of the reading. Rehearsals for the play often took place on the deck of the Holtztermann Building,the low rent West Bank apartments that served as the home of artists and writers,myself included. Rose would sit in on those rehearsals on weekends and it became clear that she was enjoying herself. She loved being around the actors. While the play dealt with radical politics and marijuana,she was too young to grasp what the play was saying. Needless to say no marijuana was being smoked during rehearsals. All she knew was her dad was making a play and in the process the idea that I was "bad" was coming into question. After all,how could I be bad if I was doing something as cool as a play? Rose seemed almost as proud as me when the marquee at the Cedar posted the upcoming event.
Rose wanted to attend the premier of the play and I felt it would be a good idea for her to see it. While I knew marijuana would be smoked in it,I also knew lots of incense would be burned as to give a "is it real marijuana or not?" sense to the audience. I had also arranged for a mutual friend to pick Rose up,sit with her towards the back of the audience and to bring her back home at the end of the play. Rose's mom saw it differently however. She saw the play as an attempt to indoctrinate Rose into my way of thinking and did not want her to attend. I tried to give her mom assurances that everything would be fine if she attended. Rose was being as insistent about attending as she had been about not paying attention to my instructions. Finally she gave Rose permission to attend with one caveat.. If she attended,she was going to have to live with me. I thought it was strange that Rose's mom would leave the decision to Rose as to whether she would attend or not but I was glad she was going to attend. I wrote off the threat that Rose would be living with me as something said out of frustration.

The play was a tremendous success,played before a packed audience. Because the play would be running into the evening,Rose spent the night at the friend's house and was reunited with me at the Riv the next day. I had a shift to work and was going to bring Rose back to her mom's house afterwards. Those plans changed towards the end of my shift as Rose's mom showed up at the Riv complete with Rose's clothes and some of her favorite toys. In a 24 hour period I had gone from weekend dad to full time dad!
Rose only lived with me for a few months then before returning to live with her mom,but a few years later after she and her mom had moved back to Colorado,she ended up living with me again,once again on short notice but for an entire school year this time.

I believe my relationship with Rose fundamentally changed that day and when I sit here now living with Rose and my three grandchildren,I believe none of it would have happened outside of the event that took place 27 years ago today.

The original flyer promoting Malcolm X Meet Peter Tosh

My First Mayday

I marched in the first Mayday I participated in. At the time I was a canvasser for Greenpeace Action and Greenpeace participated in the Free Speech section of the parade.

I had only been in Minneapolis for 8 months at the time and I cant say those months were the happiest. I had only moved to Minneapolis in the first place because my daughter's mom decided to move here after our divorce,and even then I had to be persuaded to move by Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy, He was running a third party campaign for President,and I was on the ballot in a couple of states as his Vice Presidential candidate although at the time,I was too young to hold the office.  When I first moved to Minnesota,I thought I'd be in contact with Sen.McCarthy more often,but only saw him once before he flew back to his other home in Virginia.

With Sen McCarthy out of the picture,I didn't know a soul in Minnesota outside of my ex wife. I was staying in St Paul with a couple I didn't know and whose busy schedule didn't allow them to show me around town.

  Learning the Twin Cities on my own was not fun with the lowest point coming on my birthday. Things were still tense with my ex wife at that point and my birthday visit to Rose was not fun to put it mildly. I left their place and walked into to a bar on Lake Street thinking it was,as the sign had pointed out,a Sports Bar. The reality was the place was a front for prostitution and crack dealing.

Things had to get better from that point and they began to when I took a job going door to door raising money for Greenpeace. Initially I thought I'd be doing well if I survived long enough to get one paycheck from them. The thought of a black man going door to door asking for money in Minnesota suburbs didn't appear to be a gig that would last long. Maybe it was because for the first time since I moved,I got to know and work with like minded people or maybe because I got the sense that my co workers really liked me or some sort of combination,I found a way to stick around.

Thanks to my friends at Greenpeace,I got to find out about the CC Club,Black Forest Inn,Leaning Tower of Pizza,Liquor Lyles,The Viking Bar,New Riverside Cafe and First Avenue. Now I was going to find out about the Mayday Parade sponsored by the Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theater.

Rose's mom and Rose attended that Parade and Ceremony too and once the parade ended and we were inside Powderhorn Park, I looked for them. It was clear early on that Rose's mother was not having a good time. I believe I can safely say that the abundance of hippies wandering through the park was not making her comfortable. Rose on the other hand,was having a blast..Parade! Bright Colors! Other kids! We would switch off in watching Rose. It wasn't long after the Ceremony when Rose's mom decided she wanted to go. This was not going over with Rose and soon a temper tantrum erupted.
                 "I'll take her" I said Rose got to get her face painted,relieved me of the little cash I had for cotton candy and had short moments of playtime with other kids.
As the afternoon was coming to a close,one of my Greenpeace co workers offered to watch Rose for a moment while another co worker took me to a hidden part of the park to smoke a joint. He said to me,I think you're going to like what's coming up next

We finished the joint in time for me to be introduced to..THE MAROONS! REGGAE! Rose was having fun with other kids and didn't mind my dancing around at all.

In the following years,attending the Mayday Parade became a bonding event for Rose and myself. She even marched in the parade one year and for a long time after she and her mom returned to Colorado,she would always want a detailed report of Mayday happenings..this from a daughter who more or less adopted her mother's views on hippies.
                                  HAPPY MAYDAY!! (Parade and Ceremony or not)

Marijuana..the first time

 In 1967 while watching a CBS Reports Documentary on Haight-Asbury and the burgeoning hippie movement with my mom was when I received my first warning regarding marijuana. The correspondent remarked that in these hippies eyes,their use of marijuana contributed to their peaceful mannerisms and outlook on life. My remark to my mom was marijuana must not be as bad as they wanted to portray it if meant bringing about peace.

            " Woe be unto you if I EVER catch you using marijuana!"

When mom meant business,she would invoke Biblical imagery and when she used the word "Woe", it was with the full intention of the fear of God or mom to sink in.

Now it might have seemed strange in 1967 for my mom to give me any warnings about deviating from the path that was set out for me. At the time I was generally a well behaved kid who mostly played by the rules and had been an A student to boot. Mom believed in my potential and she wholeheartedly supported my intention to become President of the United States one day. To that end,she enrolled me in Kingswood School, a rather exclusive college prep school in West Hartford Connecticut.I received a scholarship to attend to boot. If one graduated from Kingswood,one had a better than 50/50 chance of attending an Ivy League college,and according to Mom,that would be my ticket to the White House.

Almost from the time I first stepped foot on Kingswood's campus I hated it.  I had always been teased and ridiculed throughout my school life,but here it took on different undertones. In elementary school,I'd be teased for things like being ugly and being a bookworm. Now kids were waving dollar bills in front of me asking if I had ever seen one before and daring me to pull out my switchblade (which I never owned)  In elementary school,I always my good grades to fall back on even if the social element was terrible,however at Kingswood,the adjustment to a new school proved to be difficult and for failing Math,I was asked to leave the school. By the time I was kicked out, I didn't care . I began to think if assholes like these were the ones who grew up to run the country,maybe there needed to be a different way.

The one good thing about that school year was becoming a volunteer in my first Presidential campaign. Every Saturday,I'd take the bus to a section just off of downtown Hartford to the Headquarters of the Eugene McCarthy for President campaign. I had to be the youngest volunteer in the office,but it didn't seem to matter to them. I always felt welcomed when I showed up and whether it was stuffing envelopes,making phone calls or leafletting,my efforts seemed appreciated by the other volunteers.

Mom being a political activist herself didn't discourage me from volunteering for McCarthy (although she was working on behalf of the LBJ and later Humphrey campaign) However, reports began to surface about hippies cutting their hair "Clean for Gene" but spending hours at headquarters smoking pot. It wasn't long after those reports began to surface when I began to get interrogated anytime I returned from McCarthy Headquarters. At that time I couldn't tell you what marijuana looked like and I never saw anyone smoking anything while I was there (Note:Years later when I got to meet McCarthy he told me he did indeed have to spend money bailing out volunteers who had gotten busted) 

                                     "Woe be unto you! "

Although I would attend for one year the Mark Twain School in Hartford wearing a jacket and tie to school like I was still in a prep school and carrying my books in a briefcase,there was one student Deborah Caskey who seemed to see through my facade. We were the only ones in my 8th grade class that liked the music of Jimi Hendrix,Cream,and the Fugs,music I had been turned onto at McCarthy headquarters. One day,she asked if I would come to her house after school to "smoke grass". I turned her offer down,but now I'm beginning to wonder why people are thinking including my mom that I'm the pot smoking type??

Fast Forward..I'm at another prep school, this time it is the Watkinson School in Hartford. For the first time in my school life I'm feeling accepted and I'm not being teased ruthlessly. While Watkinson was a prep school,it was not an Ivy League feeder and in fact had a reputation for being the school where "rejects" from the likes of Kingswood would attend. By my sophomore year,I am becoming aware of various classmates of mine who were smoking marijuana. While none of them were my closest friends,at the end of that year, I determined going into my my junior year I was going to do extensive research on the subject.

I went on a campaign to obtain books and literature on the subject while also being aware of who seemed to like or dislike marijuana. Jack Webb on Dragnet busted people who looked like my friends at McCarthy headquarters and would speak of marijuana's evils. The music I liked seemed to be linked with marijuana usage..Then there was this book "Child's Garden of Grass" Deborah Caskey told me about that book in 8th grade but now I see it in a book store and I use the cash I had saved from doing odd jobs to buy it. It was funny serious and cool to read. At the end of my junior year,I decided I would try marijuana the next time it was ever offered.

In the fall of our senior year,the Watkinson School senior class along with some faculty members went on a camping trip in the Adirondack Mountains in Upstate New York. This was my first real experience with Nature and that in itself was serving to widen horizons and change perspectives. 

I had nothing to lose in experiencing new perspectives. I knew that in a year's time I'd be in Alaska.

The faculty at Watkinson knew there would be alcohol during this camping trip,but despite their attempts to limit its use,there was widespread drinking starting from the first night. I had begun drinking during the summer between my junior and senior years but I was a lightweight and had only allowed myself to get tipsy at that point.

That first night,I drank white wine..lots of white wine..too much white wine.  Class and faculty were all sitting inside a cabin and I realized I wasn't doing too well. Most were too drunk to notice 

One student did seem to notice my predicament. Her name was Roberta Marcowicz  Roberta told me I could use some fresh air and offered to walk with me. Her gesture stood out to me. She was new to Watkinson and we didn't share any classes. While I felt embarrassment for being drunk she seemed to hold no judgement. She walked with me till I felt well enough to take care of myself. I appreciated her efforts.

The next day in the Adirondacks featured a lot of firsts..first time hiking..first time canoeing,first campfires. None of us were in great shape for the morning campfire. (That picture is captured in the 1973 Watkinson Yearbook) but life as I knew it was changing and expanding.

The next night was not spent inside a cabin but rather farther away from the main cabin and lean to's where most students crashed with their sleeping bags. A few students brought tents,but I knew nothing about tents at that time. The only thing similar to the night before was student and (some) faculty drinking. While I switched from wine to beer that night,the memory of the night before was vivid and I was having trouble drinking the beer I had.

I was about to hit the trail and return to my lean to when I was approached by Roberta. She was accompanied by her friend and classmate Lori Redfield.

Roberta to me "We have something that is much better for you than alcohol. Would you like to come back to our tent and smoke marijuana with us?"

Me:"I've never smoked before"

Roberta: "Would you like to try?"

Roberta,Lori and myself quietly crept away from the rest of the gathering and followed our flashlights on the trail to where Roberta and Lori's tent was pitched. On the way to the tent Lori mentioned the book Child's Garden of Grass and how I needed to read that book. When I told her I had read it already,she remarked "You'll appreciate it better now"

I remember immediately liking the aroma.There was something about it that matched the aroma of nature that we were surrounded with.

Inside this tent we managed to form a circle. Roberta was the first to light her joint. She took some and passed it to me.

I was instructed to inhale and to hold the smoke in. Though I wasn't a tobacco smoker at that point,I had tried so I knew what to do. I held it in. I exhaled and passed it on to Lori.

I didn't know exactly to feel and when Roberta and Lori asked if I felt anything I had to say no. They both assured me that sometimes it takes two or three times before one notices anything.

Lori was the next one to light a joint. She took some and passed it to Roberta.The circle was complete.

Again I was asked if I felt anything,again I said no.,but somehow I knew this was a different and better experience than I had the night before.

When we returned from the Adirondacks,I re read Child's Garden of Grass,it did make more sense than before

It took another few times before I felt the effects of marijuana. The first time I did was at a rock concert..

..But that's another story for another time.