I remember being 14 and visiting my sister in San Francisco (the city) in 1967. I was a naive teenager and in total awe of the maroon velvet and tie-dyed hippies, we went to the Fillmore West and danced to It's a Beautiful Day, the Butterfield Blues Band. We then went to a house called the Kansas house full of all the transported hippies from Kansas. It was there that I got my first "hippie" lessons, must have smoked a half pound of pot that night learning all the ways to make pipes out of toilet paper etc. I visited San Francisco every summer after that, got to meet Richard Braughtigan (Watermelon Sugar in the Sky) one summer and Timothy Leary helped me pick out the first frisbee I ever owned. I'd come back to Kansas and teach my friend what bummer meant and hassled.

It wasn't all the dope, the free love, the hanging out in the parks naked though. Being a hippie was being involved in living, reacting in a non violent way to the genocidal war of Viet Nam, learning to care for the earth, protesting the attitudes of oppression while becoming one of the oppressed. It was about standing up for your beliefs and expressing them and learning to become a more whole and actualized human being.

The first letter of protest I ever wrote I sent to JFK in 1961, asking him to please not involve our troops in Viet Nam. I was only 12 years old, but I think that is when the FBI started a file on me. I was never really involved in much of anything, other than hanging a few anti-war posters in the halls of my high school, passing out some black arm band on moratorium day, attending a Chicago 7 rally in my home town and dating a draft dodger for a few months in 1971 that was the love of my life and still is very fond in my memories. Somehow though the FBI came to my house one day and told my parents they knew I was heavily involved in the anti-war sentiments and that somehow they believed I was so involved that they followed me for 2 years. My mail would come to my house unsealed several hours after the rest of the family got theirs, sometimes they were so careless I would get the photocopy. Every phone call made from my family to the outside world or in would have the clicking sound as the tap was turned on, and at times, we could even hear them talking on the phone. It was so simple to know who it was and that I was being followed that my friends and I got to the point that we were writing down all the agents activities in our little black notebooks just like they had in theirs.

All of that came about only because I had been dating a man named John Benzinger, who was hitching his way across country avoiding his draft notice. I was in love with that man, and yet in some ways he was the straightest person I did hang out with then. All we did was attend a Chicago 7 rally and play imaginary tennis in a park I gypped school every day to be with him for a few months, and we talked of our love and of the spirit. We were photographed and stopped on the street countless times and searched during that 2 months. The FBI told my dad that they suspected him of organizing all the rallies around the country and that I was his accomplice. That was truly a laugh, we were just a couple of kids, I was 16 and he was 19. It was 1970 and the war movement was dwindling down by then. In fact it was John who was encouraging me to give up on the drugs of the 60's and to face life without them. Anyway he left in a hippy van and went to San Francisco and beyond, last I heard from him was in 1971 when he was thinking of moving to Canada . I always wondered if he did. Does anyone else out there know him?

In 1972 I lived for a time in Ann Arbor Michigan, by that time the hippy life and the disco life were merging. I remember a friend who lived in my boyfriends commune renting out her platform shoes to one of the hippies in the house so he could change from his overalls and barefeet of the day into his leisure suit and platforms for his disco nights. I was off drugs then and had the time of my life playing earth mamma to a bunch of young runaways and poor students. I was the pie lady, I used to pick mulberries and make dozens of pies and hand them out to people on the street. I blew bubbles for the Ann Arbor Mime troop and sat naked in the rain while about a dozen men ran a circle around me, I sunbathed naked, and peeled a lot that summer.

Now I'm just another 45 year old used to be hippy, with stories of what it was like, and memories. A book buyer and mother, who hasn't done drugs in 20 years, I married the man whose brothers picture in the paper made me write that letter to the president so many years ago. The picture of a young soldier, with fear in his eyes used for his obituary notice for being killed in Vietnam. If you're ever at the wall, place a flower by his name and remember Jack Buchanan was only 18 when he died. And my youngest son is named Jon, after my draft evading friend. If you meet John Benzinger, who would be about 48 now, ask him if he remembers. 

My name is David James Dietz. Those who know me know me by the name BBD. Big Beautiful Dave. 

I am looking for old friends. Those of you who were on tour in the early eighties, those of you who journeyed the inner highways & byways of the cosmos on an "Orange Flying Saucer, or on the back of the four-colored, winged Pegasus may remember me. I was the ticket taker, or should I say the ticket maker. 

While I no longer soak the sheets with double white separated crystals. I spread a lot of joy in my time. Now Id like to see some of that joy come home. I would certainly like to hear from those of you who are still left. 

You can e-mail me at: 

As a early fifties "square" now i look back to the 60's revolution.
No more free love, now . Aids , chlymidia and all sorts of diseases are the
new mutations.
No more moderate dope. Acid, crack, heroin , ecstacy are the drug of choice
. With cocaine abuse at a all time high.
What a life we lived. Free of restrictions, loud music, happy people, great
parties, good food, new faces all the time. Oh to be a hippy again.
My 17 year old is currently on a trail to pakistan and she tells me the
hippies are still there.
Cool, she's keeping the tradition alive


Attn: Joyce,

Yes, I remember Zacherly. ( and how...!) But if you were watching him in ' 66, than it must have been on that kiddy show on UHF - TV. He started out in Philadelphia in ' 57, then moved over to N.Y. for ' 58 and' 59 where he hosted the late night " Shock Theater". That had to be the funniest stuff ever to be aired on TV, I loved it and would give anything to see it again. I wonder if there is any footage of it available...?, I doubt it because that was before electronic video-tape. Very wacky stuff for it's time.

I remember "Gasport", in the sack hanging at stage left, and Zach's wife that he always called "My Dear" in the casket. He would do mad scientist experiments on cauliflower for brains, or dig holes through the casket to get to the center of the Earth ( really...! ), and all to the story-line of the movie that was being shown that night. Outrageously funny stuff, and very hip for that time.

I remember the last segment of the last show ( in ' 59 ) when he surprised us all by coming out without make-up or costume and looking normal, who would have expected that...!?

Tom       [tdelello@earthlink.net

My name is Amy, a 16 year old new generation hippie, if you will.  I never 
did witness the anguish of the war, nor did I experience Woodstock, nor did I 
stay on Boston Common or Haight-Ashbury, never visited the Farm, never 
attended anti-war rallies, never saw JFK or Martin Luther King Jr. get 
assassinated, never did get to see the war end, never witnessed the end of an 
era when the Beatles disbanded, or when John Lennon died, never got to see 
the Berlin Wall coming down.  You may say I really missed a lot, and I wish I 
could have seen those things happening, but I also know that the times before 
I was born were not as beautiful as many people made them out to be.  They 
were tough.  But when learning of these events as a small child, and even 
now, I began dreaming that I was a tall long-haired blonde girl, an activist, 
a pot-smoker, and I had this boyfriend named Jake, who called himself Coyote. 
 In most of my dreams, it has just been us talking together with our other 
friends, and I dreamed of a few things we did, and even of helping a woman 
give birth.  We even got busted in one dream, but it ended up that the 
charges were dropped in the end.  It feels so familiar when I have these 
dreams, like I have lived this before.  I'm not quite sure, but I believe 
these are the images of my last life, and that I lived through a few of the 
things that many of you older ones have lived through, just not as the being 
I am now.  I'm not sure how I died, but hopefully it was for good and was a 
peaceful death.
My name is April, but everyone calls me "Swirl". I'm just turning 20,
but I consider myself a hippie. To tell the truth, I get along w/ real
hippies than I do my generation. I just love the theories & philosophies
that come along w/ being a hippie. Anyway, the summer before my senior
year, I was hanging out w/ a few friends of mine & we decided to take a
road trip.   We decided to drive to a place called "The Crystals". It's
about 1 hour away from where we were from.  It's an old limestone quarry
that is filled with water. There's a crane buried beneath 40 feet of
water, so... you know it's deep.  Anyway, we were all pretty stoned by
the time we got there, so it was a definite experience. You see, weed
affects different people in different ways. It makes me giggle at
nothing. My friend Zeke just starts staring into space & sings "Shades
of Gray". My friend Tish thinks about things way too much & crazy ideas
just start popping into her head. So.. when we finally got to the
water's edge Zeke sat down. I was next to him laughing at him. When I
wasn't laughing, I was singing with him. Tish disappear into the trees.
It was so peaceful. ALL OF A SUDDEN there was Tish up on a cliff (about
20 feet up) completely naked shouting "look at me... I am free!!" Then
she jumped. I was laughing so hard. It was a well known fact that Zeke
liked me.. so he just got up & stripped & jumped in..
I was still sitting there in amazement. Finally, much to Zeke's
prompting.. I joined them in their skinny dipping escapade.  It was so
much fun. We were free & it was great getting out to smoke up & then get
back in. It's one of the best memories I have.
Even though I may not be a true hippie, It's nice to be a free spirit.

Keep on groovin on....... Swirl

Graduated High school in '69. Headed for higher learning that fall and
was thrilled with my 2-S draft status. Saw Jimi and Janis in concert at
U. Wisc., Madison. Used to do a lot of concerts back then, Beatles twice!
Once at Comisky Park and the other at Soldier Field (Chicago). Some how
the music and feelings are just not the same. Didn't get to Woodstock.
Sure did want to go (damn) had to save money to put myself through
school. School was groovy, protestin' singin' just generally bein' real.
Then buddies started coming back from Viet Nam all f*****-up or worse -
in a box-! I didn't want any part of that!!!! 
Lost my job! Didn't have enough money for school in '71 and here comes
that letter from Uncle Sam. I was now 1-A! I was in a PANIC!!!
Decided to join the Navy. Thought they didn't much to do with ships in
Viet Nam. Never heard of anything like RIVER PATROL!! S*** what did I
get myself into this time? Did ten months on patrol (sucked big time)
got shot-up - got some medals - got to finally come home. Rejected -
called names like "baby-killer" etc. - spit on by the people I missed
the most. Man that hurt!!!! Went back to sea duty (Europe) didn't come
home for four years. Came home -still not welcome- Stayed away for
twelve years! Now I'm 47, seems like another place and time. I limp a
little (still carrying some metal). Some old friends have came back. We
really did love eachother, just didn't understand. I wish they could
have been there way back when I needed support in facing my own
mortality. Dealing with hate, rage, and GUILT over something I did not
want to do. Nobody hates war more than the guy that has to fight it!
Vivid memories of insanity and death - holding a friend's guts in while
he bleeds to death screaming for his mother- and when you come home
WOW!! That is all pretty behind me, except we lost a lot of good brother
hippies to misunderstanding. My hair is still long (shoulder length) and
getting gray, still wear a long mustache, LOVE those lost days. Still
get the feeling when listening to sounds of - The Beatles - Stones -
Jimi - Janis - Country Joe - Mama's & Papa's - Santana - Strawberry
Alarmclock - Cream - Animals - Box Tops - Vanilla Fudge - Seeds -
Association - Richie Haven - Lovin Spoonful - I could go on and on but
I've bored you enough.  PEACE --- LOVE --- and most of all ---
UNDERSTANDING!   Good things to all!  MAD JOHN
P.S. Mad John is a nickname from Nam. Anyone remember the group Small
Faces? On the album Ogden's Nut  "Beware of Mad John".  Write!?
In the summer of 1973 growing up in spamtown U.S.A. I was the tender age
of 16, I had previously just inhaled a joint at home and walked about 28 blocks
from south spamtown to north spamtown to meet my girlfriends, I was quite stoned at
the time and was enjoying my walk, as I was passing main street a car load of kids
drove by and rolled their window down and yelled FREAK!  I was totally shocked and
insulted, as I've never heard the expression FREAK before, was I that weird and
strange to be offended in public because I wore a Indian mirrored shirt and a very long
black velvet coat and indian moccasins??? it hurt me deeply as I did not realize it was
compliment not a personal insult.  I cried all the way to my friends home, and after
we had cruised awhile and smoked a few stogies, I spoke to my friends of my dilemma, they
could not quit laughing which insulted me even more, after their hearty laugh they
explained to me that that it was a compliment and not a insult.   I'm afraid growing in in
a small sheltered midwest town the only term of the word freak I associated was
someone very deformed and twisted. Silly me!!!! But it was a true learning experience to
me, and I found out in the future that I was labeled one one the hippy-girls of
Spam-Town U.S.A.

One of My Many Stories

Little Pot-Eaters :)

Hello all sorry if this is un legible because I'm not good at typing so get
used to it.  My name is Amy, and I'm 16 years old.  I've been a hippie for
life, I just feel it and it is all thanks to my folks, good old mom and dad.
When I was 1 or 2, my mommy and daddy were constantly tokin around me, and I
loved the sweet smell, but that's not really what I want to say:  See Mom and
Dad had a small crop in our backyard, and one day when I was in the back yard
playin' with my next-door childhood playmate, Nathan.  His folks and my folks
were really close phriends.  We went into the garden to pick flowers and I
picked a bunch of pot on accident not really knowin' what it was.  Nathan said
it smelled good and ate a big old handfull of it.  He said it tasted really
bad and said he'd give me all his flowers if I ate some of it.  So I ate twice
as much as he did, and he handed me his bouquet.  For the next 15 minutes or
so, we continued to wander around aimlessly as 2 and 3 year olds do, but we
began to feel progressively more sleepy, until we both laid down in the
sunshine and fell asleep.  We'd eaten quite a bit for people of our size, so
that is why it effected us like that.  I woke up about a half hour later and
woke Nathan.  We were both heavily stoned, according to our moms.  Our folks
had never intended for us to have marijuana til we were both teenagers, but we
were way ahead of them.  My aunt and uncle called me "little pot-eater" for
the longest time, and its still my pet name. :)
Hope you found my little story amusin!  Love, Amy

It was the first earth day celebration in Monroe Park in Richmond on that
sunny, warm Sunday afternoon in April of '71. The bikers, freaks and peace
promoters were out, along with plenty of Ripple wine and cheap Mexican weed.
(You always brought the cheap dope to public gatherings, cause after you lit
one up and passed it on, you never saw it again). Santana had put on a concert
the night before at the brand new Richmond Coliseum and Carlos Santana was
hanging out at the park with everybody else. A local band was playing In-A-
Gadda-Da-Vida or something like that on the makeshift stage, when Santana
asked if he could sit in. If I remember correctly (and that's sometimes foggy)
he played one 30 second lick and the crowd went apeshit. I miss those days of
cheap wine, braided hair and halter tops in the sun. I suppose that day was
our own little Woodstock. Y'all be cool and remember the reasons!
Fat Al 
Still Waiting
In San Francisco, late 60's, walking toward downtown for the parade to end 
the war.  And there they were, just leaving their house to get in a car.  I 
could see they made their own clothes of natural fabric with colored ribbon, 
beautiful, radiant happy faces, free souls, shining long hair in the 
afternoon sun.  I started to run towards them and almost yelled, "let me 
go with you" but couldn't make it in time.  They pulled away.  I guessed 
they were leaving town (they had just had the death of the hippie ceremony 
on Haight St.) headed for paradise.  I went on to the parade, bands on 
flatbed trucks, a mile of happy dancing people clogging the street from 
downtown all the way to Golden Gate Park where almost anyone you made eye 
contact with you were soon hugging.  Surely, all the world would be like 
this.  It was so easy to do and all anyone wants is to be loved and here it 
was, free for everyone!  Suddenly, glad I didn't leave town with the 
beautiful hippies because I saw it would be like this everywhere. 

And I'm still waiting. . .  I know it's coming! 


You Bought the Bullets
If you were awake, the 60s weren't about smoking weed - they were about 
breathing tear gas. They weren't about psychedelic posters - they were 
about headlines counting our war dead and their war dead too. All that stuff 
that looks so good from here, tie dies, love ins, and all the rest, 
happened because this country was engaged in a genocidal war. Anyone who lived in 
this country then, and I did, was part of American sponsored murder. If 
you were an American then you were partly responsible for dropping napalm 
on that little girl. You helped buy the bullets that slaughtered peasants 
at Mai Lai. You bought the fuel for the tank that dragged the dead peasants 
behind it. 

So don't give me any crap about how beautiful it all was and how you 
wished you had lived then. 


A couple of years ago I was going out with this girl near where I live (Glasgow, Scotland) who fancied herself 
a bit of a hippie. I don't necessarily define myself as one, either, but I suspect it's what most people would define me as on seeing me for the first time. 
Anyway, I'd never seen Hair the musical live, and I'd always wanted to 
since I was a teenager, when I did consider myself a hippie. there was a 
local production of it here about three years ago. So, I thought, great, 
I'll go and see it. 
Anyway, I'd actually just split up with this girl Emma. She was heavily 
into Rocky Horror, dressing up, the works, so in retrospect what 
happened doesn't seem so surprising. I went alongto Hair with some 
friends, including a guy called Neil whose girlfriend was in the 
production, in the 'chorus line' for want of a better term. 
So I'm sitting there in the balcony with over a thousand other people 
watching Hair! and it's just getting to the 
let's-all-get-naked-and-simulate-an-orgy scene. Another friend leans 
over and says, "that girl with the blond hair and the round shades, she 
looks a bit like your old girlfriend doesn't she?" 
So I smiled and laughed, said "Yeah, I suppose she ..." then my jaw hit 
the ground when she started ripping her kit off with the rest of them. I 
mean, there I am looking at her naked for the first time in two months,. 
I just didn't expect to be sharing the experience with a couple of 
thousand strangers ... 
Anyway, Neil knew Emma, but I hadn't known that. I'd never been with her 
when I'd met him, and so he hadn't made the connection. Just one those 
weird coincidences,  I guess ... 
Yours, Gary

Austin Party
i'm young, a 22 year old female earthling. i live in austin, one of the most 
beautiful (but hot) places for a happy hippy to live. There's a beautiful 
party that happens every year in one of our parks, it is Eeorys (sp?) birthday 
party, you know like winnie the pooh's friend. Real psychedelic, lots of cool 
people come out and gather and share the love. 
they have a big drum circle, and many other small ones. When i first got there 
i couldn't hear them, there were so many people, someone told me "keep that 
way, you can't miss it", boy they weren't kidding. The wave of energy that hit 
me as i stepped into the circle nearly set me flying. my friends and i got 
closer and danced, letting the rhythm flow through us, smiling at all the 
beautiful people, that were happy to throw off their worries to be in the 
A guy was going through the crowd feeding lo-quats to whoever wanted some, and 
water to all of the drummers, i found out later from the guy that all of the 
water and fruit were dosed. I think asking would have been nice, but the 
energy was really conducive to a nice, friendly trip. I was a fruit recipient.
i got tired from jumping and dancing with the music, so i go to leave the 
circle and walk right into the most beautiful pair of eyes i've ever seen, his 
name was Stacy, i said hello and we threw our arms around each other with so 
much love, total strangers in life, lovers in the circle, beautiful. 
I went on out to the hill and i'd walk around and play my didgeridoo for all 
the people on the hill that even smiled in my direction, the babies loved it 
the most, they'd toddle up and grasp the end, looking in wonder at the long 
thing with the low sound coming out of the end. I loved to play for them. 
We'd be chilling out in the crowd and the drummers would chaos to a stop and 
everyone would whoop and holler sending the energy out in rolling waves that 
just picked you up off the ground. beautiful scene. 
THEY are always trying to get the party cancelled for the next year, rich 
people live up on the hill above the park and don't like all the noise or 
people near their manicured lawn and pre-programmed children, but the hippy 
population is unified and strong here in austin, and the love of our town and 
our community will keep it going, long after we re-program the MAN out of 
their children. 
Gods willing anyway. peace. remember love. be here now, awake and focused. 
BEAN~~~~~~~~~write me maybe----dalamarjac@aol.com------smile:) blessings 

The Immortal Grateful Dead
It was in Denver, at the University of Colorado, in 1972, and the Immortal 
Grateful Dead did some amazing things with their music. I was up in the stands 
of the stadium, watching on the field all the trippy little groups of happy 
people, and wishing I could get closer. Jerry walked behind a big amplifier 
and scooted two big brown paper sacks to the edge of the stage, and without 
missing a beat, kicked each one hard, and dozens of baggies of smoking product 
went flying out into the audience. It started raining very hard, and the band 
went on break, and a lot of people thought they were quitting, (or didn't want 
to get wet), so they left.  But the band was only getting started, and came 
back on stage, began playing Casey Jones, and the rain stopped, and a gorgeous 
rainbow came out, and everything in the whole world was beautiful. My friends 
and I were soaked, especially me, because I had a long dress with a racoon 
knee length cape on. I looked like a drowned rat but I was never happier. I 
have seen the Dead many times since, and I am always sent to that same place 
that exists nowhere else in the universe, where a thousands of people can come 
together into one soul. And since Jerry is now gone, it can never happen that 
way again. If anyone who reads this was at that concert in Denver in 1972, 
will you please email me and tell me if my memory of that day was real, or 
chemically induced? I still don't know for sure. Peace and Love to youall. BNJ 

Hanging out in Brooklyn
I remember hanging out in Brooklyn with my friend Lorraine who still 
is a great friend of mine.I remember once we were tripping and her 
brother was with us. We got hooked on staring at a mobile up on the 
ceiling. We must have been commenting on this mobile for about 2 
hours as it was spinning around. it looked like the greatest thing in 
the world to us. I dont think our thoughts drifted away from the 
mobile. It started to look as though it was becoming a spaceship. Her 
cat Daisy was staring at us staring at the mobile. Her cat looked 
like the most beautiful cat in the world. As a matter of fact 
boyfriends, my boyfriend Richie would wear a Sergeant Peppers jacket 
as that was the Album that was soooo popular in those days. Her 
boyfriend Marc was in a black leather jacket. We would hang out in 
her basement and groove along to the music, The Young Rascals, 
Beatles (of course) Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels, and so many 
others. We also used to watch "Zacherly" on TV. anyone remember him? 
He looked like a Vampire and has this weird show that was a hit in 
those days. Wish I could turn back time just for a little while and 
just be back in that basement with everyone ............Joyce

Naked Apaches
I can't remember the first trip, but I will never forget the golden ones. The
ones that happened in Bloomington, Indiana University in the summer of
1970--when American Beauty was released. I had a dog named Brown Dog. 
Brown Dog got hit by a bus. He lived cause, as best iI can tell,  God liked him. No
money for Doctor bills. Held a Brown Dog Benefit Concert in Dunn Meadow. Lots
of cosmic boogie, bands like the Screamin Gypsy Bandits and others I can't
remember. But I will never forget the acid in this huge garbage can lined
witlh plastic and full of strawberry kool aid. Red wine, huge spliffs, and
every mother's child peaking about sunset.  Gorgeous sunset with all of us
dancing like naked Apaches on Mother Earth. Sufis and Bikers. Patcholi oil
and hash pipes glowing. That night, as I lay in bed making love to a wonderful
hippie chick named Jessica, I heard Jerry sing  "Brokedown."--Like an angel,
at my wilndow with a broken wing....Mark 
School Daze

 I'm only seventeen. I haven't been arond long and I wasn't at woodstock. I can never be a true hippie because times are different and I will never experience what my elders have. One thing that I still have is my youth and I tell ya that times have changed but hippies haven't. We are all alike in the sense that our souls are intouch with everything around us. I guess what really opened my eyes and made life feel so large and the world feel so big was the first time I tripped. I was only fifteen and a freshman in high school. I was lost. I never really felt like I belonged with any of the popular people. The only friends I did have were the "druggies". My parents didn't approve at first....well I don't know if they ever did. Anyway, these friends, the "druggies", were the best friends I had ever had. We expienced things our brains never imagined...of course on drugs. But this was a time of reckoning for us. We all had problems and issues that needed to be dealt with. They were always there for me and we always looked out for eachother. I had a fight with my parents one morning before school and just wanted something to cheer me up and hold me high. I looked across the 
hallway and saw my friend drop a good-sized hit. I went over and asked her if she had anymore and she said, "I only have a half a hit." I said, "Let me drop it I'll give you a couple bucks." So I dosed and let me tell ya it was the best day of school I had ever had. I saw things that day that I had never seen before and will never see again. Each experience is it's own. Down the road a ways, I got caught up in the whole drug scene and got deeper into depression. I went to treatment that year. I tell you it was a learning experience but I 
realized that drugs are a part of who I am. I don't do many drugs now. Okay, honestly I smoke bud all the time but, I have discovered life and who I am and I can only work hard and love myself and others to achieve my goals in life, help others achieve theirs and support my habit.

I fit right in
I am 15 and I am on my road to being a hippie just as my dear mother was in
her days. My mom has told me many stories of what it was like growing up in
the 60's and here are some flashbacks from her:
     My mother was born in 1951, and she is 46 now. And she was at woodstock
and here is what she says:

I was young at the time and I believe that what I did was what I wanted to do,
now a days children think they should follow everyone elses lead, even if it
means breaking there own standards. I was heavy into protesting, and I thought
that war was the worse. I remeber it just like it was yesterday, I can
remember the rockin' tunes of the 60's slamming in my 8 track. To tell you
about woodstock here goes............It was in August when I had been on
summer vacation in NY, me and my friends decided to check this big concert out
that we heard was rockin'. we took the vw bugs and parked almost a mile away
from the concert. i was a little worried about going when i saw such a large
crowd of people, i was really a protester but i fit right in. as we got there
we saw they had candles which where hippie candles and they cost only 2$ and
now a days that stuff has came back in. and it is much higher. you could feel
so much love in there open fields, there wasnt fighting, there was just people
letting themselves be free, and stand up for what they believe., if u never
experienced woodstock u would have loved it. i took my daughter in 94' to the
reunion and she thought it was awesome, and as she says she is on her way to a

Peace, love, and freedom

    My first hippie experience came when I saw the movie Woodstock for the
first time. I enjoyed the movie so much I watch it every year when I go to the
beach. From the first time I saw it I wanted to be a hippie. Just recently I
have become a hippie. I even wear tye dye shirts and bellbottoms. I don't wear
high heals though. Instead I wear sneakers like the hippies did. I wear
sandals in the summer. I have short hair because I hate long hair. It gets
tangled up all the time, and is hard to take care of. My best friend used to
dress like a hippie when we were teenagers. She wore bellbottoms every day to
school. Her mom must have bought them at a vintage clothing store. I want to
finish off my hippie look by wearing a peace symbol necklace. 

    When I was a teenager I remember some of the kids looked weird. They
sprayed their hair different colors. A lot of kids even had half their hair
shaved off and the other side was down to their shoulders. Some kids even had
mohawks and punk hair styles. I wore my hair like most of the boys did then. I
think kids today are trying to imitate their older brothers and sisters when
they look weird. Little kids are imitating their older brothers and sisters to
by having ugly rat tails like their much older brothers and sisters did when
they were teenagers. 

Old Hippies never die
My flashback is growing up in Northern California and watching the
hippies at Pacific Garden mall, in the early 70's...selling love beads
and bean sprouts.  I just visited Santa Cruz recently and Damn they were
still there selling peace signs and smiley face jewelry.  I loved
it...Old Hippies never die

Janice Wells

Griffith Park Love-In
4.22.98 Today I have been listening a lot to an old album I have...East -
West by the Butterfield Blues Band.  Listening to that music on that album
captures everything.  Do you all know who the rock group(s?) were...who
played at the Griffith Park Love-In?  This one was the first love-in ever,
anywhere, so I was told.  I think 1967.  I was headed there in a volkswagon
bug with this hells-angel swede driving.  We picked up three girls and were
all going down the freeway.  Everyone had a joint lit.  We notice a cop on a
cycle behind us with sirens and lights.  all happened too fast to do much of
anything.  He got real close behind us and then passed us, pulling over the
car in front of us. never forget that.  i hope that the essence of this note
inspires everyone who reads it to order East - West.  And my name isn't paul

The smell of pot and Pachouli
   First let me say that I did attend Woodstock in 1969, I was four years old
at the time.  My brother took me with him and some of his friends.  I can
remember some of the music and the smell of pot and Pachouli take me back.  I
guess I am alot like some of the "older crowd" that went and dropped acid
because I do not remember it all, but what I do remember will last a lifetime.

    My friends from elementry school all the way up through my high school
years have always called me Woodstock and say I am a hippie.  I  always smile
and say "thanks, man" cuz I think that is one of the best compliments I could
ever receive.

                                    ~~~~peace! pass it on!~~~~ 

The best time of my life
In 1969 in San Francisco, each individual was a unique work of art, in
fabulous fabrics, leather, beads, earrings, armbands, harem bracelets with
rings for every finger.  Hair was very very big...I saw the stage show
Hair...at the end, Berger came down and got me...ME, to dance the show out
to the tune of 'Let the Sun Shine'...one of the first food coops was in a
garage area in my building and we'd go down there to pick up our slightly
wilted vegetables and hunks of cheese...Crazy Diane the speed freak was
wandering the street and Bill was running the Phoenix Head Shop.  Jefferson
Airplane lived a couple of blocks off the panhandle...there was a communist
commune next door...across the hall a lesbian photographer hid 'Jesus', a
draft dodger...one floor up, Linda was coming into the women's liberation
movement in brave leaps...years later I met her; she was practically
walking three feet behind her prick husband.  I had two motorcycle lovers,
the first was Whitey, an albino Hell's Angel, one sweet guy; the other was
Richard, a Jewish Berkeley student with wondrous red hair.  Whitey rode a
fine chopper and I'll always remember the day we rode across the Golden
Gate to Marin on that bike.  Richard rode a relic Indian...Richard was a
fine lay.  If I needed a lift, I'd head for North Beach where Luciano
served me cafe au lait...sometimes you'd see Janis' wildly decked out
little car parked on the street and one time she walked in when I was
sitting at a bar...our eyes locked and we both grinned from ear to ear...I
loved her so much...I've always wondered if I had had the guts to start a
conversation with her and had become her friend, just maybe I could have
saved her...I'll never know...one thing that I do know about it, though, is
of all the heads I came to know in the Haight, none were as doomed as the
crack or smack freaks...both Phoenix Bill and Crazy Diane paid the
price...one man I'll always see in my hippie dream is Earl Strout...Earl
was my guide to so many interesting people, not the lease of whom was Edsel
Fong...but the best part of the whole era for me was making love any time,
any place, with whoever you wanted to...everybody smiled all the time...it
was the best time of my life and I wouldn't trade it for love or money. 
Peace, Laurie

no worries, no cares
I remember going to the village with a very good friend of mine named 
Renee. We would really get hyped up for out night out and catch a 
subway (it was still safe to ride on subways at that time all hours 
of the night and day) and hang out in Washington Square park, and see 
all of the "beautiful people". we would go into the East Village 
disco and dance the night away. I remember the boxes we would stand 
on and dance with our fingers in peace signs and wave them up in the 
air to the beat of the music. I loved the strobe lights flickering on 
and off, the way it made the people look while they were dancing. I 
remember hanging out until all hours of the night, and finally coming 
home, falling out in a soft bed, and looking forward to the next week 
when we would do it again. Sometimes I wish I was able to turn the 
clocks back even just for awhile to relive how it felt back then, no 
worries, no cares, just great great time. 

A Space Odessey
Way back in 1970, I think, I went to see "2001 A Space Odessey" with my friends Steve, Mark, and Jim.  We were on Purple Haze acid at that time, my very first time on a trip, and we sat in the front row. When that big ape threw that bone in the air and it turned into a space ship out in space, I held my breath because I knew there was no oxygen in space and at that moment I was in space.  The best part of the movie was that far out light show at the end. That was the coolest ever!!! I came out of the theater sweating and I think my eyes were out of their sockets. To this day, it is my favorite movie of all time. The 90's are ok I guess, but life in the mid 60's to the mid 70's were the best.  Peace, Bob 
lsd-tinged days

i am aron kay the yippie pieman, i cab still recall the lsd-tinged days
of 1967-71, when we would trip around the Strip, munch out at my green
power loveins at griffith park, skinnydip around venice late at nite or
make love in the primitive wilds at griffith park......
anyway, its boring thses days....but visit me at

Flashbacks from 45 yr. old hippie gal
Back in the late 60's early 70's man, life was good. I remember going 
with my boyfriend Jimmy down to Greenwich village to hang out, with 
our fringed suede jackets, bell bottoms, sandals, granny glasses.  We 
used to go the Fillmore East and see Joe Cocker, with the strobe 
lights flashing onstage "Joshua light show" they called it., this 
weird amoeba pulsating on screen. The chamber brothers, chuck berry, 
and so many others. I also remember "The Electric Circus" which was a 
hangout disco club in the village. As I reminisce i can see it in my 
minds eye, this was a little later down the road, we wore our maxi-
coats, chambers brothers hats, danced the night away with all those 
pulsating amoebas onstage and black lights. Seems like another 
lifetime, but man it was sooooooo good !!!!Than we would have a 
sausage and pepper hero in a place called "Iggys". There was also a 
coffee house where you can play chess on the table which was a 
chessboard. Summertime, all the artists hung out. As I am a musician 
by profession, my memory back than is playing down the village when 
the bands took a break. that was actually my first big break. than I 
was the piano player of a rock band in college. I went to Kingsboro 
community in Brooklyn. Thats when they were adding on more buildings, 
so we went to classes in trailers. Remember hanging out in the lounge 
smoking a joint with friends on a break,those really were the days.
Now I am a mother of 3 great kids. They see me as the mommy that 
never grew up, the mommy that can share all of her good memories with 
them and savor for all time..................................Joyce

Gatorade on Acid
    So, the first time I got acid I tripped hard.  But the second time
WOW that was too wierd.  You see I live in the bay Area in a little
suburbun town called Clayton.  So I tell my mom I'm going to the center
with a few friend and I'd be back in two hours.  It was around 1:00pm.
So My boyfriend a cool stoner dude, and I hop on the bus to Bart and go
to Berkely.  When we get there, We get some alcoholic refresments and
got a bit drunk.  Soon after consuming the refreshments, I notice some
Hippie kids painting themselves green laughing.  So I take my tye dye
wearing ass up to them proudly and ask
" who'd you get the shit from, Can I get me and my friends some?"
    Back on Bart it's getting dark and I'm tripping hard.  When I get
home my mom is pissed.  " Two hours!" she yells " you've been gone for
8, and I know your high.  Now babysit your sister!"  She leaves me home
alone with my little sis and I'm in my room just sitting there staring
at two aliens 69ing on my bedroom floor, when one looks up at me and
smiles, I start to laugh. I get thirsty so I go to the refrigderator and
to my suprise there is a glowing orange bottle of what looks like the
tastiest shit in the world.  It was Gatorade and usually I hate it.  But
on a little Acid it taste so good.  I almost had an orgasim.  4:20
Peace, love,
Nessa( A bored 15 year old chick)

My first Trip
I remember it was the end of  69.  It was a hit of Pink Owsley. I had
dropped and me and the guy that gave it to me walked from his house in
Wallingford(Seattle) to a pay phone booth. I noticed it getting windy.
Big maple leaves flying around. When he opened the door of the phone
booth behind me, it sounded like a shotgun going off. He looked in my
eyes and said, "We'd better get back to the house."  We got back there
and started listening to Country Joe and the Doors. Lou Reed, too.   The
house was cold and to this day, I can feel a chill when I hear those
songs. I was standing up, looking out the window when the street lights
started coming on for the evening and I was standing up looking out the
window when they went off in the morning. Changed my life forever. I
felt incredible awareness and understanding, like I could figure
anything if I chose to concentrate on it. Fabulous!!

Trip on a Ship
I have so many flashbacks that it is hard to know where to start.At work
they call me "you old hippy",Ijust smile knowingly and do my job.Once when
I was in Spain,I was trippin on a ship and almost stayed,It was in Palma de
Majorca I believe and the water and the beach just seemed so cool.I thought
I was in Heaven man,it was just so cool.If I ever remember it all ,I'll
write a book for ya'll to read. 
      Later Hollywood,Tripps,Bubba,Ozziefied.     PEACE

Greasy Changes
It was around  late 1968, I think. I had hitchiked to a dance place called the 
Stone Fox in Morristown New Jersey but hadn't met up with my friends there. A 
bunch of "greasers" started harassing me (probably cause I was young and
had long hair and Salvation Army clothes). They were trying to scare me and 
make their leader look tough. I was so skinny and shy that you didn't have to 
do much to embarass me. Well, one guy kept harassing me till I got disgusted 
and left. Well, about a year later, those same greasers had "lost the grease", 
turned on, and were hangin in the park. I spoke to the guy who had hassled me 
a year before. What a transformation!! He was now actually pretty cool, and 
had given up the noxious habit of beating up people weaker than himself for 
nobler pursuits, like peace and harmony, and turning on.  Something mystical had transpired. I was to witness things similar to this many times. People of war and confrontation 
turned  to lovers of peace and beauty. I, for one, hope that times like that 
come back for future generations of young folks. Best experienced when young!


My First Trip to a Griffith Park Love-In
I had never experienced anything.  I was in Griffith Park sometime 
around New Year's '69 with a dude named Sinbad that was removing copper 
plates from lightpoles for the money.  We had met on Sunset Strip the 
night before and in the parking lot of Wallach's Music City had hooked 
up with this guy named Caesar that dressed like Caesar.  He had 
something to smoke from Cuba.  We had spent the night in my car.  We 
found what we were looking for and took off at the park that afternoon. 
I remember my anxiety wondering if anything would happen.  When a couple 
of girls in the park need a kite tail; I went to my trunk which kind of 
waved at me and brought back a piece of carpet!  Everyone laughed.  As 
the afternoon went on, I became convinced that I was in Middle Earth. 
When questioned, someone said yes I was.  Well, then I must be. 
Later in the afternoon, diggers came and passed out bread.  When I 
swallowed it seemed as if the bread in my throat was suspended in 
space.  As the sun went down we agreed to drive back to Sunset Strip. 
Everyone agreed I was too far in space to drive.  But I was the only one 
that could drive stick shift so I drove.  We had Steppenwolf and  Bob 
Dylan's Greatest Hits on a 4 track tape player.  When I told everyone I 
couldn't look in the rear view mirror, they didm't believe me.  But the 
reflection was of galaxies of stars. 
When we got back to the strip we parked on a side street.  This guy 
asked if he could use my car to roll.  Well as soon as I let him do that 
the heat rolled up. We all had to put our hands on the police car.  The 
guy that had been rolling was sweating and shaking next to me on the 
car.  His stuff was under his belt.  Sinbad was hasstling with the 
police.  One of them wound up kicking him in the crotch.  No one was 
arrested.  We went to a store front hip church called His Place.  We 
hung out for a while.  Then I drove back to suburbia.  My life had 
Bug "Trip"
Here is one of my kids favorite stories of my past.  My friends and I wanted 
to see Stone Mountain (close to Atlanta) in the 'psychedelic' fashion.  We 
timed it so we would be getting off about the time we arrived.  We set off in 
our hippie VW bug.  About the time we got there things were getting 'real'. 
 It was getting dark and we started walking up the mountain.  Right away we 
noticed that the shadows of the big stones on the trail (it was a full moon) 
looked like craters or bottomless pits!  We practically had to crawl down 
what little bit we had walked up.  We knew we needed to be home.  The bug had 
only one seat, the drivers'.  The rest of us were sitting on the floor all 
huddled together.  It seemed as we drove down the deserted freeway (those 
were the good old quiet days) that we were a bright light (the dash light) in 
the dark universe.  We thought at times we might turn into a space ship and 
blip out into space to the stars.  Well we all had to concentrate together har 
d to keep us straight and on the road.  We even had to stop a few times to 
rest our poor tired heads........what a trip!!! 
Duck and Cover

"As fortunate as my baby-boom generation was in terms of material goods, we
were brought into and raised in a very uncertain world. Throughout the 50's
and into the 60's, the threat of nuclear was constantly a matter of
discussion in class, on television, in church, at the dinner table. I highly
recommend to anyone under 25 or 30 who wants to get a glimpse of this
wackiness, see a documentary-style movie called The Atomic Cafe. This is a
panoramic view of what was going on in these United States in the post WWII

Today, you go to school and have periodic fire drills. We went to school and
had periodic nuclear holocaust drills. And what did they tell us to do in
case we were in the vicinity of a nuclear explosion? Face the wall. Sit
under a desk. If possible, cover yourself with newspapers. Yeah, that ought
to do it! That kid next to me who neglected to bring a newspaper to school
is going to be vaporized, while I-- a forward thinker-- will simply brush
myself off and begin life anew. There was no CNN at that time, and the news
was only on early in the morning and at 11P.M. It was comforting to know
that, after the holocaust, as we foraged for food and sifted through the
glowing rubble of the world, the newspapers would still be there to read--
you know, newspapers being nuclear-holocaust-proof and all... 

Why did they sell us this load of rubbish? Was it really the best story they
could come up with? Do you wonder why this produced a generation of people
who smoked marijuana? This was the most sensible thing we did. It sure made
more sense than using newspapers to stave off nuclear fire!"

Jerry and Me
In March of 1968, only thirteen years old, but old enough to know what we 
liked, a friend of mine and I had tickets--front row, center--for The 
Grateful Dead/Iron Butterfly concert at Memorial Hall in Kansas City, Kansas. 
 So young we were, our parents still were able to dictate the length of our 
hair, and despite our army shirts, beads and ankhs, I felt distinctly 
conspicuous among the older audience of Dead/Butterfly fans.  In fact, 
looking around, I felt sneers and questioning looks from the college-aged 
crowd, those who deigned to recognize my existence at all, and I felt I could
read their thoughts: "Who are these little kids?  What makes them think they 
deserve front row seats?"  Then the Dead came out and broke into "Love 
Light."  Being in the front row, right in front of the stage, Jerry Garcia 
was playing guitar only a few feet above me.  At one point during the song, 
he looked down, made eye contact with me, and nodded his head in time to the 
music.  I nodded my head in time and felt my body begin to move--Jerry 
smiled, a "hey, alright, good to see you" sort of smile, and I suddenly 
realized... he saw me.  He did not see some short-haired little 13-year-old, 
he saw the real me, and he dug it.  In a flash, I realized that I had no 
reason to be embarrassed by my age or my physical appearance; I started 
dancing and no longer worried about the crowd around me.   It would happen 
later, with other adults, but Jerry Garcia was the very first "grown-up" to 
actually see the real me.  I will forever be grateful. 


My weirdest trip

My weirdest trip was when I dropped two doses at a Jerry Garcia Band
concert in Cincinnati. I saw some cool things flying around the room,
and nobody else saw them so... Anyways the concert was great, but it was
afterwards that things really went crazy. Unfortunately I was the one
that had to drive. The road was messed up, I drive past a part of the
road but then it was in front of me again. The music sounded like it
was playing this way and that, I couldn't really understand it even
though I knew what it was. When my friends talked to me sometimes their
mouths would move but nothing would come out. Don't get me wrong I
would have loved it except I was driving. 

Craig Pingsterhaus


Well it was 1974-I had long hair,wore bellbottoms,had a pipe for a belt 
buckle,black light,black light posters,listened to REO Speedwagon,Bachman Turner Overdrive, Black Oak Arkansas etc.I got high in the park during the day and made it with my "chick" in the park at night. Life was cool man!! Back then there was only two groups-thosewith long hair and those with short hair. If you had long hair everyonethought you were a hippie--Hey Man--they were right!!! But we were cool-
we will be looked upon as the days of Woodstock!!!!! Now that we are
pushing 40 or already there, we see dudes and dudets wanting to be like 
we were then!! Well go for it!!! The world would be "Heavy Man" if all 
of you became love children--Remember--FLOWER POWER FOREVER!!!!!! OH 
by the way--once a Hippie--Always a Hippie---Peace Man!!!!

This Really Happened in Berkeley when we were stoned......in the 'sixties'...

Me and my best stoner friend were hanging out with a friend of his in
some bushes by a scoolyard next to a street getting stoned on weed....
As usual, trying not to get busted was a concern, though occaisionally
we'd smoke a joint while walking down the street, so it wasn't as if we
lived in FEAR, but one had to be careful...Anyway, we were getting
stoned and this other guy "Norman" (who was something of a 'case') sees
this police car drive by, and so do I. Well he takes off running, and
like a fool so do I. It was like a small animal herd having a panic
reaction..but this police car just drove on by (he didn't even see us)
and it was only a moment before I stopped running and started laughing,
cuz it was crazy to run like that over nothin but a police car driving
by on the street while we were smoking a joint. We were pretty well
concealed anyway... But "Norman" was something of a 'case', he'd been up
to Ken Kesey's farm for a while, and while there he did some 'kool-aid'
from a big jug like it was 'have a couple mouthfulls', but it wasn't, it
was 'take a quarter-sip', but he didn't know that, and so he dosed up on
the equivilant of 16 hits, or so the story goes....My friend was too
cool to run in a paranoia-herd reaction, so he just looked at us like we
were un-hip, but me I couldn't stop laughing for a minute or so, cuz it
was a rediculous stupid paranoia thing to start running like that just
cuz "Norman" started running like that just cuz a police car drove by on
the street while we were smoking joints...