Visited by Rastas VII b

In those days, the playground at  the Plaza, well-equiped with the usual kid things, also included swings with long chains suitable for use by big kids and adults. Mounted as they were, near the edge of a steep incline, riding the swing while facing that incline gave the sensation of flying much higher than was actually the case. We led our visitors into the the Plaza and watched them discover it on their own. We hadn't told them anything about the place before hand except that it was a favorite spot to us. At first sight of the big swings, they both broke into a sprint, dashed to the swings and showed that they knew how to make them go.Most of the rest of us took a turn on the swings before meandering off to watch a tennis match, a volley ball practice or perhaps lie on a grassy knoll and soak up some Sun. I was seated in such a place watching the parade of up-scale dogs being "exercised" by their keepers,

when Matt appeared and sat beside me. "The cost of keeping that dog for a week" he said, pointing at the well-appointed Russian Wolfhound I'd been watching, "would feed a kid in a Kingston ghetto for a month". He didn't know that for a fact but his point was taken by some of us and applied to the needs of the poor everywhere.  Our discussion continued in this vein as we left the Plaza, intending to feed ourselves some lunch.

Visited by Rastas VII-a

     Right away, I could see that walking in the neighborhood accompanied by our Rasta visitors was going to be different than my walking by myself or with others at GoE. Before we reached the first corner we had stopped a few times either to engage willing passers-by in conversation or to window-shop some of the magnet-like stores. Someone had mentioned that the man who managed the coin laundry on our block was a good friend to us and to the neighborhood. When we reached the laundry, Jim and Matt asked that we take them in and introduce them to our good friend. Our group of nine crowded into the aleady busy laundry. Our friend, Vince said he was honored to meet the Rastas and they responded in kind. By the time our group exited the laundry new friendships had been forged. And there were more to come. Being in the company of Jim and Matt reminded me of politicians campaigning for grass-roots support. It was reallly beautiful,though; these guys were not running for office, they were just truly interested in their surroundings and those encountered there-in. During our entire walk  that day, not one of those engaged resisted or objected in any way. I do remember some who seemed puzzled or amused, much as if they wondered if they were meeting some celebrity that they didn't recognize. For their part the Rastas seemed to be meeting old  friends again.

     It was about mid-morning when we reached Alta Plaza. From our first day on "D" st  the plaza was on my favorites list. It sits atop Pacific Heights, bounded by Jackson,Steiner, Clay & Scott streets and affords some breath-taking vistas of the Bay to the north and the City's downtown sky-scrapers to the south and east.,day or night.

A note between Rastas VI and VII

Maybe you noticed that yhe format of my published blog is changing in such a way that paragraphs are not apparent and while some lines of type contain words from margin to margin, others may contain only a word or two. I realize this is a distraction and have taken steps to correct the problem. However, at this time it is not known when it will actually be fixed. Thank you for your patience. rg

Visited by Rastas VI

When Laurie introduced us she mentioned that it would be proper to address Brothers James and Matthew as Jim and Matt. Like those of us at GoE, they seldom used their last names or needed to. Once we were introduced, Laurie
left, to return later in the day. Jim and Matt and the seven of us who were up and about at the time of our visitors' arrival gathered at the big round
table in our dining/conference room. Without a word or any hesitation, Jim
got right into the large bag and brought out some of the most beautiful
cannabis I'd seen,(or smelled). He started taking the budds apart and Matt
started rolling the parts into spliffs. Actually,as it turned out, 9 spliffs
One for each of us at the table.For Starters. That's like 6to8 joints per.
And of a quality at least as good as that to which we were accustomed. One
could pretty safely predict a high day ahead. It didn't disappoint meeeee.
After a couple of hours of burning Kali, (Rasta name for the flowering
cannabis plant) studying the bible, hearing Rasta chants(including some
that mentioned Nixon by last name only) and went along way in our discus
sions toward solving some of the world's most pressing problems. So many of our problems then, seemed to be connected to the Vietnam War and we could
see that ending it (which we thought would, by itself vastly improve Amer-
ica) was nearly impossible, any time soon. We also had some breakfast
before deciding to take our visitors outside to see some of our local
neighborhood and meet some of our neighbors. When we reached strteet level
our work shop and display areas were open for the day, so we took Jim and
Matt in there first. What they saw there that day was typical: eight or ten happy hippies (the Rastas called us "tall hairs")busied themselves at one
or another of the several carpet tables or sorted and distributed recently-arrived materials to the sculpting area or paint shop or to the carpet
tables. In one area, two wood-workers are building a cabinet. Nearby, two
other guys work on a similar cabinet, installing lights, timers, rotat-
ing and stationary mirrors and tiny drive motors. Kinetic Light Sculpture
is what it was. A finished unit stood with a boom-box sitting on top
playing a Jimmy Hendrix album. With everything in the KLS turned on, the
image on it's screen seemed to "dance" completely in sync with any music
played.We spent perhaps another hour in the shops before resuming our
just-begun visit to the neighborhood. Jim and Matt loved the place. They talked to everyone, asking lotsa questions and showing a genuine interest
in how our place worked and how we liked what we were doing. They also
shed some light on how their days at their compound on Blue Mountain went
and pointed out some of the similarities between us. We were all in a
very up mood as we left the GoE shops and made our way up "D" st. on our
way to Alta Plaza.

Visited by Rastas V

I've been trying to recall how we came to know Laurie May. I do recall that she and my wife at the time, Roena did become close friends. Laurie was
pretty well-fixed, financially. Those who had known her longer than I, told me she had a lot of income in the form of alimony, having been married to some wealthy corporate cheiftain. That seemed likely (if unimportant) to me, since her look and her act was definitely Trophy Wife Level AAAAA. She
was also a sweatheart (Probably still is). She enjoyed sharing her good fortune with her friends. For example; she would take Roena shopping at the
most up-scale department stores. Roena chose what she wanted, Laurie picked
up the tab. The first time it happened Roena couldn't believe her good luck,and said so. Laurie said something like "it's only money and besides, there is much more where that came from". At first hearing about these events and knowing Roena as I did, I realized that Laurie knew the way to gain and maintain Roena's unqualified approval.I might have wondered about
motive, but I soon came to understand it was just Laurie's way of being a good friend.
It never occured to me that she might have a way to gain my approval
(or that she would have any thought to seek it). But, early one morning in
June 1970 she appeared at our door with two friends in tow. She introduced
"Brother James" and "Brother Mathew" of the Rastafarian Order of the Coptic
Church. Well, I knew that members of their church used cannabis as their
sacrament and I knew what was in the large paper shopping bag which Brother
James carried. And,though not so much at the outset,sometime that same day,
I knew Laurie (for what ever reason) had located my button.
Please understand, the first I heard of their visit was on their arrival. And when I say early morning I mean very early. Actually, the
Rastas had arrived at SFO about ten the night before and had kept Laurie up
all night. They wanted to visit me soon after their plane's arrival but Laurie knew that I was an early-riser and not likely to be up much later
than the news at 11. They were in no real hurry to meet me. It turns out that in the rasta culture there is no sleep component for men. The women of the Rasta community are provided bedrooms and they do sleep at night for 6, 7 and maybe 8 hours. Men, however are held to a tougher stanard. In the Holy Bible, psalm 121 (I think it is) we read: "He that keepeth the Lord
shall not slumber..." and Rasta Men take the bible literally. (If that's possible,given the many contradictions there-in) Oh, they do sleep, not
voluntarily nor permissably, but during all-night services (every night)there is some nodding-off but it's always noticed by others (usually in seconds, not minutes)and interrupted before it brings damnation. So we see that their wanting to get on to our visit was simply them not wanting to waste any part of the day,dark or light. You might imagine that folks that never know a good night's sleep will proably not be as healthy as those of
us that do so with some regularity. The Rasta compound, a kind of rectory
for the thirteen priests and their wives,sits well up on Blue Mountain on a
large acreage with a river running thru and is pretty much surrounded by the residences of families of the Rastafarian bent. Together, they raise chickens and goats, grow vegetables,and harvest wild tubers and fruits.
There is more than enough for everyone and,I think, it's perhaps as good an omnivorous diet as you could get. Despite that and the fact that they all
get plenty of all-body exercise, those in the priesthood (who never sleep)
have a life-expectancy in the mid-to-high-thirties. Those whom I met in
1970 have long-since gone to their reward, barring a change in their way
of worship. In discussion of this subject with the visiting Rastas it was
made plain to me that the men in the community surrounding the compound
were not expected to totally deprive themselves of sleep. Most all of them
had jobs somewhere down the mountain. Some as far as Kingston or one of
it's suburbs. None of them attended night services every night, but nearly all of them attended at least 2 or 3 times a week. And it was not unusual
to see a number of them working side-by-side with the priests at their
day work. This last I learned later, when I visited the Rasta compound and
environs in response to the invitation of brothers James and Mathew.

space between Rastas IV and Rastas V

One is having a heck of a time finding a way to get to this project with any regularity. I am not unaware of the situation and intend to get it together as soon as possible.
By now I suppose that I've given you a pretty good idea of what our place on Divisadero was like on the day we were visited by the Rastas. But just to make sure....fourteen rooms, upstairs housing 15 more or less permanent volunteers who provided our services to as many as 50 overniters in our street-level dormatory and quasi-cafeteria. A number of those being served were already active volunteers, waiting for space to open up in one of the flats. Some permanents preferred sleeping in the dorm. It was very informal: Beds were laid out on our large work tables each of which contained as many square feet as the floor of a small room. Most of our work on those tables was what we called "Carpet Art". It involved using high-quality,commercial-grade carpet donated by local carpet vendors (our
first had the contract to do the public areas of the then-being-constructed
Bank of America building). The carpet was cut to fit specific patterns,then
glued to the burlap/tarpaper wrapper in which the carpet travels from manufacturer to dealer. Another of our active cells received the three or four inch paper tubes (thick-walled) around which the new carpets were wound for shipment and storage. There, they became cat-scratchers, mod lamps, mobiles, sculptures of wide variety,art-deco rat traps,(really) and large candle-forms. I've only mentioned a couple of our cells and there actually were many.I,m sure we didn't use the word "cell" as I've used it here, but today it seems the best way to describe the "departments". Most of us were involved in more than a few of the cells and a few of us had a hand in every project. All of the cells had the same basic goal and worked pretty much hand-in-hand, giving aid to each other as needed. The place was active 24/7. No one had specefic tasks or specific times to perform them so there were those who found themselves at their chosen task in the middle of the night,and often found themselves welcoming new-comers at 2 or 3 in the morning. I'm probably making this sound like a boring place by focusing on the mundane more than on persons, but know that the buzz in that place was a constant delight owing to those very folks happily passing the days doing satisfying work in an inspiring environment.
So,THAT is the place the Rastas found on that summer day in 1970.
I'm not sure when the opportunity to continue will avail itself again, but when it does we WILL meet the visiting Rastas.

Visited by Rastas IV

Re-reading "Rastas III" I realized that I'd failed to convey the grief that most of us felt when the police left our place with their "fugitives".
Those two boys had been with us for a few weeks by then and were much liked by us and one of them was especially liked by our birthday celebrant who, I think, had him figured for her future boyfriend. So, all of us were upset and four or five of us went to the police station to which they were taken,hoping to have them released to us, but that was not in the cards:the boys' parents were called and they said they would pick up the boys as soon as they could get flights to the City. We had to content ourselves with the idea that they and their families might be better off for their return. (Second chances all around, you know?) Although, I've often wondered if that really was the best for them and what their lives are like presently.
But,getting back to our story; So, what had first been called "MUF'N and later "a commotion picture is going out of business" and owing to a painting near our main entrance, depicting that famous face on that cylindrical box of rolled oats,it had even been referred to as "The Quaker Oats Commune" would then become Gates of Eden. I said before that our church was a congregation of Universal Life Church, which was founded and operated by Kirby J Hensley, a very interesting person. Google him and see for yourself. Near as I could understand he thought that any one should have the right to further spread his own faith. And should get as much help from the government toward those aims as any main-stream church receives. ULC HQ espouses no particular faith and invites its ministers to use the church charter however we like so long as we do with it what is good and right. (you decide)
No one at GoE had any strong feelings about promoting any faith. We just wanted to operate our little impromptu recycling store and social services agency with a minimum of interference from government. Now, we couldn't be charged with harboring fugitives, though we did have to give up persons named in warrants. Our sponsor's would be able to deduct their donations to us and our ministers could visit prisoners in jails or prisons. considering the large numbers of our fellow humans being locked up
then simply for posessing what we considered our sacrement, this was a plus for us.I think that I, personally made only two or three visits to prisoners. Together all our ministers visited and were able to be helpful with the outside problems of many inmates. And they let us visit, not in the visiting room but in the lawyer-client conference room.















e

Visited by Rastas III

Understand that, by "day 1180" I mean January 26,1970. The pivotal date in this story. Since our move to Divisadero St, in the late autumn '67 we (myself, my family and those who, in one way or another,over time, to various extents and in numerous ways, contributed to the direction and function of what we then called MUF'N) well we saw ourselves as secular humanitarians, more interested in helping our neighbors than in having daily dollar deluges. But we didn't have to chase money. Early-on we realized so much in the way of donations (of foods,clothing,household goods, re-cyclable materials,money. Even, over the years, a few cars)making it possibile to offer our goods and services free of charge. without any "donations accepted" signs.
By 01.26.70 we'd been doing our thing at "D"st. for a little more than two years. We enjoyed relationships of mutual respect and admiration with many of our neighbors and very nearly no problems of any weight. We had, however done nothing (actually I had done nothing) to forge some kind of good relationship with any of the police working in our neighborhood and that probably accounts for the trouble we had on 01.26.70, at least for the way in which it played out.
That evening our oldest daughter was celebrating her 10th birthday.
There was so much traffic in and out of the house that the police were able to enter without requesting entry, simply by walking in behind a group of invited guests. We were informed that we were suspected of harboring two fugitives,who were accused of leaving home at age 14 without permission.
I don't know why the officers didn't come by in the daytime, knock on the door,ask about the persons they sought and ultimately leave with their prisoners. Actually, their method of entry wouldn't had raised so much ire itself. It was the way they spoke to us with out respect or decency,their rough treatment of their "fugitives" and their threats to charge us with harboring fugitives if they again found such at our place. Thru it all a warrant was not produced (and I failed to ask for one). The situation was more like a drug raid than a visit by police investigating a missing persons report.
The next evening, we held a all members meeting to deal with the situation. Long story shortened: One among us, a law student at Cal offered that a church CAN harbor fugitives legally. another said he had seen an ad offering regular individuals a way to form their own church for whatever purpose was dear to them.Within a couple of weeks our group had established ourselves as Universal Life Church#6054 the Gates of Eden Congregation. This move ultimately brought us to the attention of the Rastas.