I'm 73. I was at Altamont. In '75 I lived with some opera singers off the panhandle on Cole. None of us were any kind of hippies. The only hippies left in the Haight at that time were 100% brain dead wandering around with the Jesus look.
I think a lot of people on Substack would love to read these memories you have. I checked your profile, and don't see any posts. If you've been thinking about being here as a writer as well as a reader, just some encouragement!
I've been doing some writing. I have a lot to write about from being the first woman to bust into a couple of unions in the 70s in AK to living in Central America with my young daughters to cattle ranching from Kauai to New Mexico along with my days in San Francisco. A lot of it is already written. I'm a techno dummy. I need to get it onto a tablet I bought for the purpose. No wifi! I'm still remote ranching with a stray cell signal. Thanks.
This brought me back, many thanks for the quote, not one of my best ones, but I suppose it was accurate af for those days, as you know I was more of a lower Hate individual, but biz deals & the I-beam brought me to the upper on occasion, at least by 89 I had fought enough of the skinheads to a decent draw so I could wander up more frequently, are you talking about Horseshoe as your next gig? Now that place was crucial, the Ethernet terminal, the bathroom of doom, the depth charge coffee, helping my friends establish the Toronado, Mad Dog & turning Tropical Haight into the MidTown, there’s some stories in that era for sure…
I was just remembering that first reading I did for you, i hitchhiked up the 1 from Santa Cruz & didn’t make it on time, I went over to your place afterwards & I noticed you had magazines with the front covers missing on the table, it all comes together now…
That being said, great piece. As someone who came to town, and specifically Lower Haight, just two years behind you, I look forward to what else you have to share about this.
I sojourned from the East coast for a few months in the spring of 1993 and rented a room on Haight and Masonic. I know the character of the corner of which you speak.
I bet it was darker in 1989, but I was plenty impressed by how fucked up things were. Crack smoking dark hippies indeed. I spent sunny days quaffing booze purchased at Uganda liquors (why that name?) and sitting on the roof watching the parade of freaks. One memory that’s seared onto my brain is of one of those acid casualties falling backwards (drunk) through an enormous plate glass window. It was a very bloody affair and the guy was wasted. He wasn’t fully cognizant of what he’d done and flailed around in the broken glass like a wounded buffalo, terrifying the sunny day crowd and splashing blood on passers-by before eventually getting swept into an ambulance.
I spent nights at the Deluxe lounge on lower Haight logging hours and working towards becoming a dark something-or-other, not a hippie, but something similar. The only difference was the soundtrack.
Uganda was once part of a loose knit chain of market/liquor stores that were part of a black owned biz cooperative around the Bay Area, back during the Civil Rights movement where folks in the community were encouraged to spend at their local stores & it was highly effective until the gentrification spilt into these areas, the Liquor Store/Market at Haight & Fillmore as well as the Liquor Store/Market at Divisadero & Grove were other examples, usually incorporating Black/Red/Green in the signage to denote their Pan-African commitment…
Oh, the Dylan/Beatles convo. Worse, around 1980 or so they put those lyrics in H.S. textbooks to try and connect with the youth. They're like poetry, maaan.
I’ll never convince you, but you couldn’t be more wrong about Dylan. Say his words don’t work for you, or hit you in the feels, but a blanket “they suck” is a little lazy and beneath you. Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall, Visions of Johanna, It’s Alright, Ma (I’m only Bleeding) and Every Grain of Sand contain some of the most beautiful and profound poetry I’ve ever heard in the English language. Could it be that you just don’t like HOW he conveys his message? The nasal whine, the folk-rock style? But you dismiss the words and I think “maybe he doesn’t get it?” Anyway I know you hate this conversation but as a lifelong fan I gotta stand up for my boy.
I'm 73. I was at Altamont. In '75 I lived with some opera singers off the panhandle on Cole. None of us were any kind of hippies. The only hippies left in the Haight at that time were 100% brain dead wandering around with the Jesus look.
I think a lot of people on Substack would love to read these memories you have. I checked your profile, and don't see any posts. If you've been thinking about being here as a writer as well as a reader, just some encouragement!
I've been doing some writing. I have a lot to write about from being the first woman to bust into a couple of unions in the 70s in AK to living in Central America with my young daughters to cattle ranching from Kauai to New Mexico along with my days in San Francisco. A lot of it is already written. I'm a techno dummy. I need to get it onto a tablet I bought for the purpose. No wifi! I'm still remote ranching with a stray cell signal. Thanks.
This brought me back, many thanks for the quote, not one of my best ones, but I suppose it was accurate af for those days, as you know I was more of a lower Hate individual, but biz deals & the I-beam brought me to the upper on occasion, at least by 89 I had fought enough of the skinheads to a decent draw so I could wander up more frequently, are you talking about Horseshoe as your next gig? Now that place was crucial, the Ethernet terminal, the bathroom of doom, the depth charge coffee, helping my friends establish the Toronado, Mad Dog & turning Tropical Haight into the MidTown, there’s some stories in that era for sure…
Oh yeah horseshoe was next .
I was just remembering that first reading I did for you, i hitchhiked up the 1 from Santa Cruz & didn’t make it on time, I went over to your place afterwards & I noticed you had magazines with the front covers missing on the table, it all comes together now…
That being said, great piece. As someone who came to town, and specifically Lower Haight, just two years behind you, I look forward to what else you have to share about this.
Fuckin Diamond Dave! I hung out with his bum ass during the 2016 democratic national convention in Philadelphia!
Hate to do this but just finished your piece. We write about similar fare.. You might get a kick out of mine on my substack! It's much longer though.
Will do!
You’ve conjured a unique time and place.
I sojourned from the East coast for a few months in the spring of 1993 and rented a room on Haight and Masonic. I know the character of the corner of which you speak.
I bet it was darker in 1989, but I was plenty impressed by how fucked up things were. Crack smoking dark hippies indeed. I spent sunny days quaffing booze purchased at Uganda liquors (why that name?) and sitting on the roof watching the parade of freaks. One memory that’s seared onto my brain is of one of those acid casualties falling backwards (drunk) through an enormous plate glass window. It was a very bloody affair and the guy was wasted. He wasn’t fully cognizant of what he’d done and flailed around in the broken glass like a wounded buffalo, terrifying the sunny day crowd and splashing blood on passers-by before eventually getting swept into an ambulance.
I spent nights at the Deluxe lounge on lower Haight logging hours and working towards becoming a dark something-or-other, not a hippie, but something similar. The only difference was the soundtrack.
Uganda was once part of a loose knit chain of market/liquor stores that were part of a black owned biz cooperative around the Bay Area, back during the Civil Rights movement where folks in the community were encouraged to spend at their local stores & it was highly effective until the gentrification spilt into these areas, the Liquor Store/Market at Haight & Fillmore as well as the Liquor Store/Market at Divisadero & Grove were other examples, usually incorporating Black/Red/Green in the signage to denote their Pan-African commitment…
I hope with this app we can patch together our own oral history. Thanks for adding puzzle pieces in.
That’s so cool! I’m glad I propped them up in whatever insignificant way that I could. I was a good customer for 6 months or so!
Oh, the Dylan/Beatles convo. Worse, around 1980 or so they put those lyrics in H.S. textbooks to try and connect with the youth. They're like poetry, maaan.
Exactly!!!
This was fascinating. Really enjoyed it. The Dark Hippies don’t get enough light in our pop culture’s history.
This is an amazing article I loved reading it. ⭐️
Thank you!
There was a fine line between Evil Hippies and Gutter Punks
As much time I spent in the punk scene, I only know 1% about the gutter punx . A whole different culture evolved there, very insular
I worked on Haight street in 2000-2005 but I think you still captured so much of what I remember.
I'm sure there are some things there that never change!
I’ll never convince you, but you couldn’t be more wrong about Dylan. Say his words don’t work for you, or hit you in the feels, but a blanket “they suck” is a little lazy and beneath you. Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall, Visions of Johanna, It’s Alright, Ma (I’m only Bleeding) and Every Grain of Sand contain some of the most beautiful and profound poetry I’ve ever heard in the English language. Could it be that you just don’t like HOW he conveys his message? The nasal whine, the folk-rock style? But you dismiss the words and I think “maybe he doesn’t get it?” Anyway I know you hate this conversation but as a lifelong fan I gotta stand up for my boy.
I’ve heard every defense. I stand by it.
Every day I turn on the news recently I think ‘..you don’t need the weatherman to know which way the wind blows’ hahah.
Damn I lost my prose!