When I left Okinawa, I went to Hawaii and then to Vandenburgh Airforce Base. Usually your pay records are shipped, but since I was being discharged, I had them with me. They’re in a blue tube. I put four ounces of pot inside and left. Only I can open it. No one asked for my pay records in Hawaii. I was in Vandenburgh for 3 or 4 days. I took my pay records to get my final pay and got my ticket home to Detroit.
I flew home; my mom and Uncle Walter were pretty upset. Everyone was upset with me. Then I got a job at Hazel Park School District as a custodian. I cleaned the high school and Hoover each night. After a year, there wasn’t anything exciting going on. I called a friend who was living in California and asked if he wanted a visitor. So, I got a ticket and flew to San Francisco. I knew him from the military. His name was Roy. I stayed at Roy’s house for about 2 or 3 months.
He was a photographer so we walked around a lot, took a lot of pictures, worked in the darkroom. Roy was getting tired of taking care of me, and we weren’t making any money selling photographs. I moved in with another friend. This was 1970.
He lived in the tenderloin district which was a pretty rough area. We bought and sold pot. Then after a while I met this girl living on 535 Ashbury---that’s where all the hippies were. She would work and I would stay home. I’d go play Frisbee at the park and do stuff. Met some different people. One day I was hitch hiking and these 2 girls picked me up. They asked what I was doing, and I was just looking around. I said I wanted to head up over the bridge toward Marin County. They took me to this guy’s house. His name was Terry. This was in Sausalito. His house was on the side of a mountain—mill valley.
After a few times meeting him, we became good friends. Terry was in a wheel chair. He was in a ‘vette accident and had lost control of his lower body. I would help him around. He had a wife named Sharon who was also his therapist. They offered me a room there and I helped Terry and helped around the house.
A couple of guys I knew moved to Larkspur. I went with them to Larkspur and lived with them, selling pot, acid, but I wasn’t into coke at that time. I didn’t have a job. I just sold pot. One of my other military friends was discharged and came to visit. He told me one of our friends was in Chicago and was heading back to Okinawa to sell some acid. He was a Hell’s Angel. First he came to Marin County to see his family. Then before he got on the plane, we tracked him down to see him. I knew people in San Francisco who sold acid. He bought 2 grams which is 8,000 hits. Then he offered to pay my way back to Okinawa if I would carry it for him. I said ok.
We flew to Okinawa. He said I could have half. He went to visit his people he knew, and I went to visit mine. We sold it for like $3 a hit. I bought some more camera equipment. Things got ugly because people were selling heroin; there were four or five different gangs putting out murder contracts as they fought over control of the area for drugs. I sold about ¾ of what I had. I left the rest with my friend, and wanted to get home. That was enough for me. But while I was there, I started heroin. I brought a little heroin back home.