The Lady and me......Part I
The late autumn nights allowed the winter snow to invade New England early. I drove my 1969 Impala to several bible study groups held within the homes of my new found friends.
1974 saw the climb of social change and anti war activism begin it's decline into a freefall of empty direction. We were withdrawn from the jungles of south east Asia, Nixon had resigned from the White House. (ironically, Cheney and Rumsfeld received promotions and dug themselves deeper into the political world of intrique and deceit) The bohemian lifestyle and dress was seized upon by the fashion designers and they quickly provided every high school student tie dye and beat up jeans. Long hair, American flags on the backs of dungeree jackets, everything had lost value. Jimi, Jim and Janice were dead. There wasn't a higher purpose invoking the march forward to a better world. More than a dozen high school friends had checked out early in a variety of ways. Working a full time job only to spend it all on getting fucked up week after week was empty. Smoking several ounces a week did little but remind me that I needed to smoke in an effort to find any level of enjoyment in life.
"We know this young girl that would like to attend several studies in the area. Could you perhaps provide her a ride once in awhile?"
I didn't mind. She was a wayward orphan of sorts. She had spent several years in and out of foster homes. Her mother took her home when she could. Her dark brown hair was shaped to hide her face and she looked out the window when she spoke. I provided her a ride several times until she disappeared once again into the homes of relatives and foster homes.
I became involved in the Jesus Freak movement and sought to lift myself up into a higher calling than what was previously offered amoungst my peers.
Several years later we had met again. In another state, at a Christian revival campground. On this particular year, a female teaching evangelist from the Northwest was the featured preacher. Every year for two weeks of every summer the German preacher who owned the revival campground would invite in a revival preacher.
I enjoyed this time each year. It seemed as a reaching back into the bohemian lifestyle with a sense of purity and purpose. I also had fun with this young girl from my past. It was hard to realize that she was only fifteen years old. I was twenty one. Almost twenty two. Her life had forced her to mature early and take her mother's role in her family many times too often. Her younger sister found protection at the hands of no other. Her brother was now permanantly in foster care. She was independent and stuck her chin out in difiance to the world. She pressed on to make it in the world come hell or high water.
1974 saw the climb of social change and anti war activism begin it's decline into a freefall of empty direction. We were withdrawn from the jungles of south east Asia, Nixon had resigned from the White House. (ironically, Cheney and Rumsfeld received promotions and dug themselves deeper into the political world of intrique and deceit) The bohemian lifestyle and dress was seized upon by the fashion designers and they quickly provided every high school student tie dye and beat up jeans. Long hair, American flags on the backs of dungeree jackets, everything had lost value. Jimi, Jim and Janice were dead. There wasn't a higher purpose invoking the march forward to a better world. More than a dozen high school friends had checked out early in a variety of ways. Working a full time job only to spend it all on getting fucked up week after week was empty. Smoking several ounces a week did little but remind me that I needed to smoke in an effort to find any level of enjoyment in life.
"We know this young girl that would like to attend several studies in the area. Could you perhaps provide her a ride once in awhile?"
I didn't mind. She was a wayward orphan of sorts. She had spent several years in and out of foster homes. Her mother took her home when she could. Her dark brown hair was shaped to hide her face and she looked out the window when she spoke. I provided her a ride several times until she disappeared once again into the homes of relatives and foster homes.
I became involved in the Jesus Freak movement and sought to lift myself up into a higher calling than what was previously offered amoungst my peers.
Several years later we had met again. In another state, at a Christian revival campground. On this particular year, a female teaching evangelist from the Northwest was the featured preacher. Every year for two weeks of every summer the German preacher who owned the revival campground would invite in a revival preacher.
I enjoyed this time each year. It seemed as a reaching back into the bohemian lifestyle with a sense of purity and purpose. I also had fun with this young girl from my past. It was hard to realize that she was only fifteen years old. I was twenty one. Almost twenty two. Her life had forced her to mature early and take her mother's role in her family many times too often. Her younger sister found protection at the hands of no other. Her brother was now permanantly in foster care. She was independent and stuck her chin out in difiance to the world. She pressed on to make it in the world come hell or high water.
.JPG)
Comments