This being its 40th anniversary, the fabled Summer of Love ("if you're going to San Francisco...") is getting a lot of media attention. If you were there, tell us your story! Thanks to Hal R for the suggestion!
is when I was born, so was kind of "there" in the fabled Summer of Love. Sorry, weak attemt to fill in the wisecrack void left by C.C. Joe!
Like TL I was a sparkle in Mamas eye...No wait that WOULD have been dads eyes... lol...I lived in the bay area 10 years ago and was at the park (GG) for the 30th anniversary. I walked across the GG bridge for the 20th anniversary in 87...Too bad I wont be able to make the 40th...Gonna hang out in the rainny NW :) Have fun down there ya'll... Eric
I was only 11 and living in Wisconsin but these are some memories of the time. 1. I was in a dime store looking at comics on the rack and this guy with long dark hair down to his shoulders and a full beard came in and started to look at comic books too. He looked like Jesus. I wondered what some guy that looked like Jesus was doing reading comic books. Or maybe it really was Jesus? What was this about? He was a lot harrier than the Beatles. I pondered on this one. This was before all the media attention. Probably earlier than 67. 2. On tv that year there seemed to be two views of the world that I saw many nights on the evening news or in magazines. One was the image of soldiers tromping through the jungles and swamps of Southeast Asia, or of firefights, or of the wounded being loaded on to helicopters and of coffins being unloaded from planes and the nightly body count. The other images I saw were from San Francisco or New York and were of guys playing guitars or flutes or bongos sitting around in a park with beautiful women with long hair and either miniskirts or long flowing dresses. Or of dancing to loud wild rock and roll with electric guitar solos in dances that were free flowing and didn’t have names. There was colorful clothing and beads and long hair and flowers and incense and words of peace and love. It seemed that there were two choices for my future. The choice for me was obvious. Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.) Walt Whitman-Song of Myself
Only 5 years old. I think I was trying to pronounce Fire Truck properly much to the chagrin of my parents.
a little too young for the summer of love (5/29/66 is me) but my mother used to tell me they called it the Summer of Love because I was such a joy to be around that year. Seriously.
but, last year i found an interesting site _the60'sdiary.com- this dude apparently was there and you can read excerpts from his journal. makes you feel like you, too were part of it. check it out. nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile
67 was the year i left school i saw quite a few of the bands that are now legends, Pink Floyd, Hendrix, Had wait a year before i saw The Doors and the Airplane at the Roundhouse in London and the Airplane at the Isle of Wight, 1970 before i saw the Dead Bob - - - - - - - - - - - - - Spanish Jam
Boy, where do I start? 1967 was a magical year for me. I was all of 16 years old, and a budding, incipient hippie! It was a magical time for Canada too - Expo 67, and budding hippie scenes in all the big cities! We even had our own version of Haight-Ashbury, right in downtown Montreal. On August 6, 1967, The Jefferson Airplane, and the Grateful Dead gave a free concert in downtown Montreal, in the square at Place Ville Marie, a large sky-scraper, in the center of downtown Montreal. Man, what a scene!!!! Hippies as far as the eye could see, and as far as I was concerned it was heaven. In October, Montreal's own underground newspaper, Logos was launched. By then, I was wholly immersed in the hippie scene. What glorious, precious memories!
I do remember that year only because I stayed with my aunt for a spell.I was a lil tyke 10 yrs. old. But my 2 girl cousins were 16 & 17. They turned me on to the music of that time; The Doors "light my fire" I remember that one. The Beatles, The Jefferson Airplane, Janis & Jimmy, Cream comes to mind too. They told me about some band from out west with some guy named "Pig Pen". Pig Pen? I remember thinking, you mean like Charlie Brown? Life sure was simple then. Why do we have to grow old?
I turned 16 on 6/21/67 billed as the "official 1st day of the Summer of Love",,,,,,,taking the north bound train to the park (excuse was to go see grandma, which I did after the park) Had figured out by this time why everyone was always smiling @ me......"Good Morning Little Schoolgirl" that had been it for me from the start in the Panhandle. a few years earlier......seeing Pigpen walking around the Haight alot & although I wore my purple wool Sgt. Pepper coat alot, I still was riding them horses in Half Moon Bay.......course once I had my car we were all up there way more going to the Fillmore West & stuff, horses went by the wayside for a spell.......think I may give my grandson a harmonica soon......what a hometown band!......Gypsy Cowgirl Jack1921-why do we have to grow old? better than the alternative........
Born in July 1959 made me 8 years old then. Like Jack1921, I had 3 older girl cousins who did all the babysitting for my brother and I (he's 2-1/2 yrs older) and while he was watching cartoons, I was listening to Anne(+9 years), Patty(+8 years) and Susie(+ 6 years)!!! That summer I remember standing on the corner while Patty was talking to her friend John back in Brooklyn, NY and him telling her that he was going to San Francisco "cause that's where the scene is". They were always taking care of us as Mom worked so I absorbed a LOT...the music, their conversations, etc. I wasn't an obnoxious kid...I'd just sit close by and listen quietly because it was much more fascinating than TV. The music really "grabbed" me...I had an AM transistor radio and remember listening to WABC (wasn't even aware of FM then) and hearing the Beatles, Turtles, Lovin' Spoonful, Doors, etc. Then when we went over to their house, thats where I got turned on to the good stuff....The Dead, Airplane, Allmans, Santana. I remember my first vivid memory of knowing I was listening to the Dead, it was 1970-71, sitting in the kitchen doing my homework after school and by then I knew about FM...good ole WPLJ and WNEW (i think)...the DJ was Scott Muni and he put on Uncle John's Band. Now back in those days they were supposed to play the "proper" album but not "our" guys...he put on the version that had "Goddamn, well I declare.." and thinking to myself...that's pretty cool of them to take chances LOL. Probably could've cost them their license if someone complained but....... Got into the bootleg recordings in 1976-1977 and finally made it to my first show in May 1980. From then on I was "On The Bus", never looked back and never regretted any of the touring I did in CA and the West Coast from 1983 - 1989, tho it cost me dearly. The Dead have been the ONE constant in my life and for that, i will be forever......Grateful! "Thank you, for a REAL good time!" ..even a blind man knows when the sun is shinin'...you can feel it!..
I was not quite 2 during all that so my memories of the the summer of 1967 are circumspect. but it did produce my wife, whose parents met in the Haight during that time and she was born in 1968. so it has had a directly profound effect on my life.
I graduated high school in 1966. 1967 was my first year of college. I was hip to the scene but I didn't get on the bus, so to speak, until 1968, which is when my summer of love really began. The summer of love started a movement that gratefully continues in some respect or other until this very day. I am always happy to see younger people carrying the torch of hipdom and being a Deadhead is a big part of that tradition. I attended the 40th Anniversary in Golden Gate Park and it was a mellow scene full of good vibes The late sixties were an exciting, idealistic, adventurous and eventful time and a lot of love and groovy shit went down, but a lot of mistakes were made as well. Many good people went down along the way, but many good people survived. I think we must look back and remember the good ole days, take the positive, leave the rest and move on. Continue to teach the children and cultivate the spirit in us...Further...Further...Further...Onward through the fog.
December 1st, 1969. That's why sometimes I'm called, "Numero uno". Number ONE baby!!! That's cool that my birthday is Welfare day. All the poor folks are always high on Eric day.
I was in going into the third grade that fall. I remember going on vacation with the family to Cape Cod and I remember my parents crossing the street to avoid the hippies. We were respectable people who didn't have anything to do with "hippies", those long-haired dope suckers who continuously jacked off into their semen encrusted underwear! I also remember the Boston Red Sox having a great year, driving for the American league pennant with the likes of Joe Foy, Rico Petrocelli, Tony Conigliaro, Jim Lonborg and, of course, the great Yaz, Carl Yaztremski. There was also this English rocker group who had just released an album called "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." My Catholic grade school trooped us all into an assembly in September of 1967 to watch a cautionary movie. It started with a close up of a hand with a piece of chalk writing on a blackboard. Slowly the hand wrote three large letters: L -- S -- D. The evil Ellis Dee. I was determined to try it at any cost after that. Anything the nuns were against I was for!
For me the summer of love was a mixed bag. Lost two friends in Vietnam. Hippies and rednecks beating on each other. A friend tossed in the clink over pot seeds. Except for the ones who died, we were young and immortal. Sure was a lot of good music, tho.Sorry about a bring down post on a dormant thread, but this called to me