Hello People

CommentDecember 31st, 2007 12:31

Llyn here.

I’m in the midst of assembling, editing and extending some writings of Chris Plant’s (my husband and early OWFC commune member). I love it when he tells me stories of his fondest memories from that decade he was a part of. Things like the all-night cleaning parties and “Finding the hidden dirt”. The esprit d’ corps  that he invokes when he reminisces is very inspiring to me.  I would really enjoy reading of your best memories. Even lists of what you loved, or ways in which the communal lifestyle and belief system still sustains you.


P.S. Even if you weren’t a part of OWFC, if you had experiences living communally, I’d be interested in hearing about them.


related posts

Community Discussion

1 comment
  • Earl M.

Llyn, Greetings, and thanks for the invite to share. Happy new year!

…………………….This is on communal living……………………………………..

In 1968, when everybody else was hitching rides to Woodstock, some friends with a little cash asked me, with a station wagon to take a drive to see the ocean. When we got to Laguna beach, they decided to hitch to S.F.. I checked out the tide pools, and a fellow asked me if i needed a place, after he warned me not to sleep on the beach because they rousted at 2am. So I met up with him after he finished work, did the dumpster thing, and he took me up into the canyon and the hill was covered with caves, and to him, he was king of the mountain and he was running a kind of free hotel.

He let out a primal scream in the morning so people could go look for work or whatever, and we put on great communal feeds. one time cops cam along (outside their legal jurisdiction) on the pretense of looking for underage runaways, and threw everybody’s stuff over the cliff (just for fun?). So three of us decided to get hard to find, and looked for more remote caves, for peace of mind. once I swept mine out and leveled and covered the floor, and had a nice patio to boot, we had our communal life out on my patio. This was also the same period of time that David Sereda, at 9 years, old had his first sighting at Santa Barbara. At my Cave I was having my second sighting, This time a Mothership, and it was there every night. My first experience was also at 9 years, and I expect a lot of you understand this.

After dinner we would sit and visit , and we would watch this thing trying to just look normal, but after my two friends retired to their homes, I sat out and visualized a laser beam of light to the star ship, and I just poured my heart out to them. After 2 weeks of doing this, they must have had enough of me, and they came through and said, “Go back to Chicago, don’t go over 55 MPH, and somewhere along the way, we will have you make a right hand turn. The next morning, I told my friends. They were kind of excited and wanted to come with. So we filled up the wagon and waited for payday, and it was off to see the wizard! It took us 4 days to hit the road and we thought we were late, so we ignored the speed limit they gave us.

When we got to the AZ/ NM border, a pinion gear bearing went out and we were out 125 $ and as we waited, Jim got out a calculator and as I was being told they were done, Jim announced that the six hours it took us to get back on the road was the same as we had made up by flying along. We concluded they knew exactly when we were going to leave, and we were ahead of schedule and had to be slowed down. So now its 3am and we just passed through Amarillo, TX. Jim who was a crop duster pilot from Toronto, and had studied under Tuesday Lobsang Rampa, (I had read all of his books), was driving while I rode “shotgun” and Jim(the skeptic who had only read tabloid reports of alien abductions) was asleep in the back. We saw a Shield sign with what appeared like it had a hand painted arrow on it, pointing to the right. As we slowed down, Jim looked at me and said, ”Did you hear that?” I confirmed, clear as day, they said, “Yes, turn right here.

This was a crispy October night, no moon, and the milky Way was like a Diamond Tiara, and I was breaking my neck to see if I could see anything moving up there. The roads there are laid out in a square mile grid and was paved for two miles and was washboard from there. Each time we approached an intersection they directed us, and the washboard woke up Craig. He lay there listening to us comparing notes and said nothing. Finally they told us to make a left and pull over and shut off the lights and engine.

Already, Craig was getting scared. In this country, people went to bed at night and were up by 5am, and We had not seen a single vehicle, but as soon as we were shut down a big farm truck came out of nowhere and was right behind us. All we could see, looking through the dust that was slaking down the rear window like little avalanches. So I pulled back on the door handle and whacked the door with my elbow, and peered back. I could see the steel piping around the headlights, like it was a cowcatcher, and I was convinced it was a truck and not a flying saucer The thing that sucked now was Craig was doing his “Oh , nooo, not the Alien Anal probe ” thing and we couldn’t help hearing his emotions. I silently thought, “Craig is freaking out, were going to have to do this some other time! No sooner did I think the thought and they backed around the corner and took off down the road. Almost a quick, Craig snapped out of it, and I’m convinced they had something to do with it, because Craig said, “Gee, I’m sorry I blew it guys, but maybe we can catch up with them if we follow their taillights.” So , We got going and saw them turn. They never let us catch up to them, but the did guide us back out to the highway.

There is a sequel to the story, because I did end up working on a project, building a Venusian style scout ship, and that story is probably longer than this part, so I will save it for you. Happy New year folks!

Please note: Comments that are off-topic, personal attacks, spam and junk links will not be approved to appear. We may also occasionally edit comments for space and content. To customize your Avatar image, go to the Gravatar website and create an account with the same email address you use on the GMN, then upload your image. For support requests please use our Contact Form.

Security Check *