The next morning I had my breakfast in the shop, while trying to wear out my favorite Hendrix tape and giving a light-box the chance to dance to it and through the clouds of exhaled smoke of the Lebanese Hashish that my good budd, Jason had left in my inbox, the day before. Sweet! Add the bear claws, some fruit salad and a thermos of coffee made in flat #2's kitchen and some solitude.....
Nothing lasts forever though, especially the good things. Before Jimi finished All Along The Watchtower, the lawyer that had visited the previous week, showed up and spent a good half-hour telling me pretty much what he had told Bob. One thing he told me that Bob hadn't mentioned, though. It is thought that Laurie May had been traveling with the two rented trucks, about midway between them and at the same speed. The drivers of the trucks told the lawyer that they figured that she must have seen the lead truck going the opposite direction, made a "U" and soon, saw the two trucks, stopped and blocked by cars with pretty red and blue lights flashing. She probably went by without attracting any attention, got off the highway asap and is probably still holed up in a motel in that general vicinity.(According to the lawyer, no "wants or warrants" have been issued in her name.) But she hasn't called in and no one, that the lawyer is in contact with, knows where she is. A reason for some concern, surely, but Laurie May was very capable, the authorities were apparently not in pursuit of her and I thought she would be among us before long. Also, I realized that she probably hadn't been avoiding me because of some disapproval she may have had relative to the experience I had been for her friend Sally, whom I had agreed to drive home. Laurie May wouldn't have been sticking her nose in that, anyway, but at that time she also had her hands full. The lawyer said he'd call if he heard something and danced out the door to "Dolly Dagger".
Reflecting on the lawyers visit and considering the time-line that he'd laid out, it seemed more than likely that Laurie May had gone straight to San Francisco Airport, after dropping Sally off at our place in the middle of that Friday. I wondered if anyone who had spent time with Sally during her visit to GofE, had gotten her phone number. She might have been in touch with Laurie May and could fill us in if we happened to reach her. Admittedly, I wanted to talk to Sally, as well. I had myself convinced that she probably wondered why I hadn't called by then, but when I really thought about it, it dawned on me that it would be easy for her to call me (GofE was in the book) and if she did, Great. But, if not, that would work too. Even best. If she called me it's not likely I'd have to apologize for my conduct, and if not, I certainly wouldn't. Maybe if I wrote her a nice, short note, saying all the right things and ignoring anything that might be thought untoward. I could give it to Laurie May and ask her to put it in the stamped envelope that I'd supply. She could address it and mail it. I made a mental note to talk with Laurie May about it when next we met.
I was completely engrossed in the light box and the music when Scorpio John came in. I feel something akin to shame for finding myself in the 14th part of this story before even mentioning this guy. Let me introduce you: John Franklin Towers was born in San Francisco in 1951. His parents, Ezra and Maria Towers owned and operated a quite successful import business. At age 14, John was orphaned when an out-of-control fire engine ran over his parents' car, even though Ezra had pulled to the right and stopped(apparently when he heard the sirens). John was left with a sizable estate and in the hands of Ezra's lawyer,Brandon Underwood, who was named John's guardian. "Woody" as John called him, was well-suited to be a guardian; he was trust-worthy, totally dedicated to John's present and future. Until he was 15 he lived in an apartment over Woody's garage.When he was fifteen he convinced Woody that he would be ok if he took an apartment, for himself near the school he wished to attend in San Francisco. He reasoned that, even though Woody's office was in the Tribune building and his home in the Oakland hills they're just a phone call away, or a 40-minute ride on the bus. The fact that John's apartment was located in his old neighborhood, helped Woody decide in John,s favor, but from what I witnessed, I'd have to say that, if at all possible, Woody invariably put his weight behind John's wishes. So far as I know, he never had a regret for his decisions.
We first met John in late 1968. He had accompanied the young man who supplied us with psychedelic drugs, on one of his visits. You'll perhaps remember the "14-year-old MAN" that I mentioned earlier, (part 7 of this piece, I think). John did not sit still and listen the way you might expect a first-time visitor to behave. He wanted to know everything about us and what we were doing there. I felt like I was being interviewed for a position. That was nearly a year before the police raid that was catalytic to our getting a church charter. At that time, we called the place "Muf''n". John didn't like that name. He thought the place was worthy of something better. It was a pretty comfortable and convenient place to live and work. Much remained undone but it was apparent by the level of activity, throughout the place that building was still much, if not most, of our work. John said as much near the end of his visit and asked if I thought we could find space for him in the place. I told him that might be possible and that I'd give it some thought. Invited him to check with me in a few days. Even though I was impressed by John's militant candor it could be off-putting at it's upper edges. There were some things that I couldn't put my finger on that caused me to be a little hesitant. Usually, when a visitor wanted to join us, orientation began almost immediately, no questions asked.
But John was not usual. His physical image, was that of a tall, blond Rasputin, his long, unkempt hair, standing above and around his face (which he had never shaved, allowing a beard, mostly on his chin and sideburns). His clothing said "Goodwill" (though he was the first owner of his clothes, he just didn't often buy clothes). The day we met, he was wearing a too-small, tie-died t-shirt, (blue and purple on white) and a pair of rust-colored, beltless pants, the legs of which were about an inch short of reaching the tops of his ragged, Converse Allstars. No skinflint, John had his mind on things more important to him, like weed, wine and women. You'd be surprised how many women could see past his super-sinister face (and when he was heavy into a rant, it could look so much the devil). When John returned the very next day, I had already decided in his favor. He seemed just too extraordinary a person to let get away. He didn't disappoint; I grew to love him like a kid brother (he was 13 years my junior). From the first day he joined, to the last time I saw him, he was there for me and for our place and our people, the way Woody was for him. One thing I knew for sure, when I learned that much of our membership had evaporated, is that John would not be among the evaporatees, even though I had seen him only once since returning from Jamaica.( Roena had said something about John having recently begun spending most nites with a young lady whose flat was on Jackson st). Though we had seen each other only once, and then for only a couple of minutes (at the general meeting in December '70) neither of us was concerned that the other might not still be on the same team.
"Hey, Gideon, you busy?"
"No, come on in. Take a seat. How's it goin', John?"
"Not bad. How's by you?"
"Pretty good, except for a couple of small problems."
"The bank account thing and some of the members leaving?"
"That and Bro. Ivy's recent shipment( including his gift to us) getting busted. Had you heard about that?"
"Oh yeah, Bob told me about Kenny's visit the same day he was here. Where have you been, bye the way? Or should I say where were You and Sharee? Bob said he saw you that Monday after you got out of jail. He said soon after you talked, he went upstairs. The house phone was ringing. He answered it. It was Sharee calling for you. He told her you were in the shop and he assumed she had reached you. Tuesday morning you were nowhere to be found. When I saw him, some days later, both you and Sharee were still among the missing."
"I did lie down on a carpet table intending to sleep here the night, but after Sharee's call, I couldn't sleep,so I went out to walk. Sometime later, I stopped and sat on a park bench at Alta Plaza. When I awoke, the Sun was up to mid-morning and a cop was moving in my direction....So, I got out of jail at about 4:30pm one day and was booked back into the same jail at about 11:40am the next day (Lost Temper Lost Time: I know the proper way to behave in the presence of a cop, but I blew it that day and wound up being sentenced to six days) Remind me to tell you about Lobsang Rampa. I didn't call to let people know where I was because I knew I wouldn't be missed (often spending nights elsewhere) and was ashamed to admit being back in jail so soon. John, how do you see these recent events involving our bank account? Also, share your thinking as to what might be our best response to the loss of the shipment, if any."
"I don't know if we need to respond to the situation involving the shipment but I think the failure of it's arrival is the reason for people leaving. It has nothing to do with irregularities in the operation of our account. My personal expenses account is in the same branch of the same bank that the Gates of Eden account is located. An officer in that bank, Mrs. Thurston, is an old friend of the family and she looks after my interests. She knows that a considerable sum is moved every month from my account to the GofE account.I'm sure that if something was not right in either of those accounts we would have heard about it by now. If you like,I could ask her to take a look at GofE's account to see if anything seems "irregular".
"Hey, that would be great. I'd like to think that neither Roena nor Sharee (or anybody else among us) would steal from the group, but I'd much rather know it. Id really appreciate it, John. So far as I can see Bob and Carmen are the source of the questions about our treasurers;what do you think they were up to? And do you think they might have done something to increase the chance of Bob being my companion on the trip?"
"For what reason? What would he, or did he, gain?"
"I know. I don't get it. Though, maybe they spread the story to make it look like they had good reason to sever their ties with us. Maybe they just wanted to be on their way (especially after the shipment failed to materialize, as you say) Lotsa possible maybees. In truth, I just hope we've heard the last of them".
"I kinda liked Carmen, at first, but I came to see her as insincere and Bob: he didn't like me from day one; he never spoke to me and the few times I spoke to him, he ignored me. I won't miss them either".
"Ok, they're behind us. Fowuuud kharch! John, I gotta tell you: if it had been mine to choose my companion on the Jamaica trip, you would definitely have been my choice (especially since you convinced Woody to pay for it out of your trust) but it wasn't and I didn't and now my question to you is this: If you and I and the remaining resident members decided to send a one-man delegation on a follow-up mission to determine the status of the relationship between the Rasta Community and GofE, would you volunteer to go, if Woody decided to pay for it?"
end of Visit with Rasras in Jamaica 14
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