Doors

So we climbed down and walked along the edge of the crowd toward the east and out of there. I remember seeing some young standing black woman in the crowd with a white hippie kneeling before her, his head in her crotch while she seemed to be yelling at him.

Performance everywhere. So it turned out, as it was on the news the next day, shortly after we left the concert, another motorcycle gang showed up and started shooting, wounding several Hell's Angels. Needless to say we had been sitting in the direct line of fire.

I had a neighbor across Winfield street named Pat. There had been three main drug dealers in the Haight Ashbury, in sixty-seven and eight. The number one was called Super-Spade. The Mafia moved in and killed Super-Spade and the Number Two guy - nailing them to doors on Haight Street. The number three heard about the fist two and took off. It was told to me by Jackie who was a friend of Pat's, that Pat had been the girl friend of Number Two, and now she was my neighbor.

Pat herself used to visit, and we would smoke some weed. She told me one time - she had a lot of stories - that she had got involved with some Mafioso type in the Tenderloin, who tried to make her one of his prostitutes, had her in his office for hours relentlessly hammering her verbally. She said she just sat there and said NO about a hundred times. She said you didn't say anything else; he was a dangerous guy. He finally let her go scot-free. She always told these kinds of stories with a look and tone of disgust and you are oh so innocent.

(3 of 7) Next Page