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.
I’d met 2 stewardesses in
Okinawa. They were cool. We had bonfires, smoked pot, dropped acid. When I got
back to Marin County, I had their addresses in Manhattan Beach. I went down to
visit them; they lived with each other and a brother. That’s where I met Dana.
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