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The hippies came out of the woodwork and met in the sunshine for the first time at the Human Be-in, the Gathering of the Tribes, in Golden Gate Park in January ‘67. They surprised everyone including themselves, when around twenty thousand showed up. I was there but had to leave early because of a bad cold. There followed a global eruption of publicity so that, by spring of ’67, everyone agreed there would be a mass pilgrimage to the Haight that coming summer. At least one cover story on the hippies became mandatory for news magazines. Catch phrases surfaced, “Flower Power,” “Summer of Love,” etc. (After the word “hippie” surfaced in the media it was dropped in the Haight. No one used it. “Freak” took its place.) Hit songs told kids all over the world to get here anyway they could. Come enjoy “warm summer nights” and be sure to “wear a flower in your hair.” My own hair was a couple haircuts over due and tensions were increasing with my boss, so just before summer, I quit my part-time file clerk job and started full-time living. At about this time, Tim lost his job as a draftsman because of too many unexplained absences (acid trips the night before). With money from my tax rebate and the sale of my car, I matched Tim’s money and we became dealers. Being dealers meant we had an unlocked drawer that might contain lids of grass, tabs of LSD and/or STP, tinfoil-wrapped gems of hash, peyote buttons, occasionally opium, among other things. If we needed money, we sold some dope. If we didn’t, we gave it away or took it ourselves. Day after day of doing only what I wanted. No appointments, no authorities, no schedules. There was little difference between day and night, one day and another, one week and another. The biggest decisions of the day were what drug to take and who to visit. Of course, the drug that always had priority was the one I hadn’t taken yet. I sniffed glue, drank cough syrup, crushed and ate morning glory and wood rose seeds, gagged then giggled on peyote (it has the taste, texture, and color of dehydrated garden slug), and of course, took LSD and STP. Marijuana was the staple; it goes with anything. I greeted the dawn on some kind of drug several times a week.
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