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If
a young man had long hair and dressed rebelliously last summer, chances
were he referred to himself simply as a "long hair." Chances were even
greater that he was a "beatnik" to his elders. This summer, just about
everyone is in agreement that such a youth is a "hippie."
There is, of course, the exception of media such as U.S. News
& World Report, which in a July 17 story told the reader
that the term "beatnik" was out-dated but proceeded to call today's
longhaired liberals by this name throughout the article. Anyways, that
magazine did say something about being "always considered a few years
behind the times."
All this reflects two reasons why there exists such a wide communication
gap between the established social community and the so-called "hippie"
tribes.
First off, the tags are becoming too overpowering in their form of general
identification. If a long-haired high school sophomore breaks a window
on the Sunset Strip, word of hippie vandalism spreads and a long-haired
artist, who is older and takes his beliefs and protest more seriously,
suffers.
Secondly, there is the gap of being "a few years behind the times."
Too many adults are taking a critical look at today's youth with over-played
remarks of "When I way young, blabbablab." What they fail to realize
is that the times of their youth no longer exist. Pressures, compounded
by an avalanche of ideas and knowledge, have greatly intensified. The
whole world has become a throbbing hotbed of revolutions; politically,
socially, industrially, scientifically and spiritually.
This gap of understanding is bouncing American society from one blackeye
to another; Berkley, the Sunset Strip, Century Plaza and tomorrow.
In the meantime, the long hair, who stars in this modern American Revolution,
continues to sprinkle himeslf across the nation. He is photographed,
written about, placed before live TV audiences ...he is both fancied
and stoned (no pun intended), but he is seldom really listened to.
What makes a youth leave a well-to-do family, college, jobs and the
established norm of life altogether? And what becomes of such a person? Realistically, the answers and possibilities are as varied as the individuals involved. But a good deal of insight does come when one focuses in on the following persons.
In early August, 1966, 12 long-haired youths left Chicago for California.
Behind them, they left 18 others who would follow once additional transportation
had been obtained. Of the 12 who led the migration west, three of them
came onto the dirt lawn of Pandora's Box one night in mid-month.
Pandora's Box, which islanded at Sunset and Crescent Heights
Boulevards, was then smoldering over a long list of complaints charging
police with unjust treatment of long-haired youths. In a matter of months,
on the night of Nov. 12, 1966, the Sunset Strip demonstrations were
to begin here. The nightclub would soon be ordered closed and. months
later, on Aug. 3 it would be demolished to make way for a $700,000 traffic
realignment.
The three long hairs who came to this 20th century Alamo over a year
ago were Darryl Jacobs, 22, Jeff Byron, 20, and Ion Bishop, also 20.
Dressed rather crudely, they had some money in their pockets. But it
would have been of no significance had they been broke. Money was one
thing they had little need for.
"You might say," ventured Darryl, "that we're skid row people with class
and intelligence."
"Our people," added Jeff, "are more like brothers; we share. If we go
to New York, there are people there that help us out. We in turn give
them names and addresses in Chicago or where ever else we've been."
Some of the things they believe in are not too distant from the everyday
dreams and desires of the established society.
Take the yearn for travel, the desire to tax knowledge from personal
experiences. At 20, Jeff Byron, a college dropout, had visited most
of the historical landmarks he had ever read about. As a result, he
now felt a deeper realization of American history. He had been and seen
where most of it happened.
Then there's the great American dream of true democracy, love and equality.
Most long hairs feel common society gives more lip service than action
in these areas. "We don't care if you're white, black, purple or what-have-you!"
said Darryl angrily. "If you need help, we'll help you!' Ion Bishop gave an example of this which would make the average American homeowner shudder. "Someone gets a room,' he said, "and it's everybody's." ON LYTTON GREEN
After our first encounter with Darryl, Jeff and Ion, we kept running
into them while gathering information for what we hoped would be an
in-depth article on the Sunset Srtip. Our conversations grew more and
more interesting and we finally decided on a prearranged interview.
"If they'd pay attention to their driving instead of us," said Ion Bishop,
"There wouldn't be so many accidents in front of here."
Across the south-bound lanes of Crescent Heights Blvd., on the green
lawn of Lytton Savings' Sunset Strip building, Jim, a lanky 6-footer,
spoke about what made him join the long-haired brotherhood.
"I hate to say it, but, I was working when I met Darryl and Jeff in Chicago. I had had two years of college as a journalism major when I had to quit because of green - no more money. Finding we shared the same general ideas, I quit my job and joined them."
Jeff Byron, who left college after his first year to travel, hopes,
as does Jim, to go back to his formal education someday. However, Darryl
Jacobs who took creative writing, sociology and philosophy classes for
two years, is not so sure.
"As for going back to college," he said, "I don't know. It's the same
as asking me if I ever intend to get my haircut. I don't know.'
Running his fingers quickly through his shoulder-length hair, Darryl
continued. "I've learned most of what I know by experience. I feel life
is a major course in sociology all by itself. True, I haven't done much
writing lately, but that's because I haven't settled down here yet.
I've already had poems published in Broadsides, Evergreen
Reviews and a Christmas edition of Reader's Digest."
A girl, whose black hair appeared shorter than his, joined us and, smiling,
cuddled up next to Darryl. He gave her a quick kiss, then proceeded
into opening the door onto what lies at the bottom of alot of unrest,
the long hair's firm conviction that he is being unfairly treated by
society. WHITE
NEGRO "I've
given up respect from parents and people I thought were friends for
something more important, individualism. You might say I'm a white Negro
now. We're discriminated against."
"What this country stands for on paper is different from what is true,"
said Jim. "This great land of freedom isn't."
"This country is too statusistic," cut in Darryl. Jim agreed with him,
then added, "Some look at us as lower than Negroes are looked upon in
the South."
Jeff Byron decided to give an example of this discrimination. "At one
place," he said, "we laid down $300 on the desk, and they woundn't let
us in, without a reason when they had a. vacancy sign outside. We finally
got a room, but at double the price. They said we 'lowered the value'
of the place."
"An hour and a half after we got in Florida we were arrested for vagrancy.
At the time of our arrest we had $30 among the three of us, our own
car, loaded with clothes and a couple of Fender electric guitars worth
about $300 apiece. The police got us at the Lincoln Avenue Mall in Miami
at 3 p.m. in the afternoon while we were looking for an apartment and
jobs. We told the police one place was going to hold our guitars for
security. which was true, but they just came back... insisting $30 wasn't
enough to get a place with."
"That wasn't all," said Jeff, fingercombing his long hair from
his forehead. "A police officer even said, 'This is a tourist town and
you people look too weird. You'll upset and nauseate them; we'll have
to lock you up.'"
"So they locked us up," said Darryl, "until a judge finally ruled us
not guilty. Funny thing is they kept me three days but they kept Jeff
about a week longer. After this it was impossible to find apartments
or jobs because the police were always a step behind us."
They finally gave up Miami. Jeff wired home for money and flew back
to Chicago. Darryl and the other long hair drove back.
"It really bugs me though," Darryl grimaced, "because they always do
this to us. They'll throw some law at us and have us locked up for at
least a couple of days. And they Know they'll either drop the charges
or we'll be ruled not guilty!
"Miami really hurts," he continued, "because I lived there once for
seven years. We would have had more money with us, but there was a $25
ticket and some auto repairs on the way. Still, how; many vagrants drive
up in a year-old Rambler full of fine clothes and expensive equipment?" SPLIT
HOME Darryl, coming from a split home, had followed his parents from Florida. to California and Chicago. But, feeling unwanted because his parents had a "just follow and be quiet" attitude, he left home at age 16. Returning to Miami, he found friends and little discipline, and decided he would never follow again. Asked how he could have had two years of college if he left home at 16 and never finished high school, Darryl told of an Illinois law which allows one to enter college if he can pass a test after age 19. Darryl did this, after serving his military obligation in capsule form. NAVAL FREEDOM BUS
"Jeff and I both joined the Navy hoping to find ourselves. Instead,"
said Darryl, "we ended up only putting in 12 weeks of service between
us. I was out fast enough to finish my going-away-party keg. "I was
Jewish, and, stationed in the South this is beautiful, you know. Well,
my two best friends were Negroes..."
Being discriminated against a good deal, these three decided to call
their adjoining bunks their own "freedom bus." But, Darryl, running
into the wrong side of his commanding officer, found himself putting
his freedom bus to little use. He was fixed up with so much extra work,
he was averaging only two hours of sleep a night, Finally, one day he
went beserk, waking up in a sanitorium on his 18th birthday.
"I got an honorable discharge, as did Jeff."
It was discovered Jeff Byron had ulcer trouble. When his medical records
from Chicago were looked over, he was told he'd have to go, they couldn't
use him,. He wanted to stay, Jeff says. "After my discharge," said Darryl, "I never got a decent haircut again. It's been a gas being treated from dirt to a celebrity in different towns and cities." OLD TOWN & TEENYBEATS
Darryl reminisced his early long hair days in Chicago's Old Town sector.
"If you were in line, even next in line at a movie house, and you had
long hair, you could be picked up for loitering. The police use to make
it awful rough, and we weren't causing any trouble. It was the teenybeats.
Those are the teenagers who go to high school, live at home and drive
daddy's car. When the weekend came, they would dress up in 'beat' outfits
and come to Old Town, trying to be like us.
Darryl turned around, looked across the street at the crowd of youngsters
at Pandora's Box. Then, squinting at the sun, said, "Trouble
here is most of the kids are teenybeats. Half those kids, no, more than
three-fourths of those kids will not be in front of Pandora's on a weekday
afternoon once school starts."
Why do some long hairs put up with teenybeats? Darryl was very frank.
In Chicago, he said, they were "used" for money, sex and other things. Reclining on the green lawn, Darryl looked up and spoke seriously. "You know, I thank the Beatles for making it a lot easier. Like we're 'in' this year. Next year the teenybeats will probably get haircuts, but we'll still be this way.'' He paused for a second, then, amused, remarked, "It took us six years to be 'in'." FREE SOCIETY vs. ALL-AMERICANS
Jeff Byron lit a cigarette for a young girl whose eyes were deep in
paint then spoke. "In New York there are two villages, East and West.
The teenybeats, with their $30 mod slacks and parked Cadillacs, go to
the West Village. In the East Village you have us, the 'Free Society'."
Jim, who was now sporting short hair because of a job he tried for but
didn't get, broke his silence.
"This happened in Manhattan Beach, but it could be anywhere," he said,
"A friend and I, both with shoulder-length hair, watched in horror and
disgust as 'cleancut' kids cruised up and down a street throwing empty
beer bottles out of cars and shouting obsenities."
Showing a bit of anger, Darryl re-entered the conversation. "I'm always
with a girl when they call me a faggot or queer while they, the collegians,
are in a car with their male friends. They spend weekends doing this
and throwing pop at us. They get their cookies like this." "I was thrown out of Aurora, Ill., because I had long hair. I was even asked if I had ever impersonated a woman. I said 'What, with a beard?'!" TV TALK SHOW
This reminded Darryl of the television talk show he had been on in Chicago,
Larry Attebury's Private Line.
Orginally he had been offered $200 to cut his hair, shave and get a
new wardrobe. Disgusted, Darryl turned down the offer as "hypocritical."
He was then offered a chance to express his views on the program.
His spot, which was to last no more than four minutes, started with
Atteburry and the audience pretty much against him. However, 16 minutes
later, when he was done, he had won the audience and even earned critical
reviews.
According to him, the show went something along these lines, fouling
up Atteburry's attack and giving Darryl an opportunity to present his
side:
Darryl: "No thank you, not today."
Attebury: "If I saw you on a street, I'd think you were a girl and whistle."
Darryl: "Oh, have you ever seen a girl with a beard?"
Attebury: "Yes."
Darryl: "You must have some very interesting dates."
Attebury: "What do you do for a living?"
Darryl: "I sell radio and TV time to keep people like you on the air."
Darryl said, when he was finished he was offered a repeat, but he left
for California before he could appear on the show a second time. "All the local columnists went wild," reported Jeff Byron. "Irv Kupcinet said something like, "One Darryl Jacobs really made a good show and brought some light to the minds of us people who are out.", They really made a big deal of the way he uphandled Attebury. Herb Lyons wrote something like, "Larry Attebury's Private Line really shattered itself last night in along hair showing. It was a gas!"
HIPPIE LIFE
Jeff then brought up a good point. "They knock our way of living and
they haven't tried it. We have more reason to knock their way of living,
we've tried it."
Jim Buckely, a 19-year-old from San Francisco, explained, "There's an
honesty in our scene. No more fronting, you know?"
Jeff agreed with this, pointing to businessmen who have wives, kids,
mistresses and fights to keep up with the Jones'es. "They're all put
on."
When one of the boys gathered brought up sexual honesty, Darryl spoke
boldly.
"Half the women who laugh at us would put up money, and have, to go
to bed with us. They love our rebellious spirit. They look at us like,
wow, why couldn't their husbands be like us instead of kissing the boss's
ass. Still, they want their kids to be like their husbands." The youths repeated their plea of not causing most of the trouble credited to them. "Most of us are pacifists, we don't want to cause trouble or fight," said Jeff. "Yeah", agreed Jim, of Chicago, "if there's a fight the majority of the time it was not the long hair who started it."
Jeff Byron joined Jim in giving the discrimination issue its final go.
Jeff told of a time in Chicago when a group of long hairs were jumped
by Puerto Ricans. Jeff and another boy managed to get away and run for
help. They found a police squad car around the corner half a block away.
When told what was happening, Jeff claims the officers refused to drive
around the corner saying, "They probably had a good reason. Why don't
you guys get haircuts and they won't jump you. Call the station, there's
nothing we can do."
The patrol car drove away and Jeff returned with his friend to find
the other two long hairs badly hurt. Jim's story of unjust treatment was milder, it just involved a familiar case of police breaking into his home without a warrant. SECURITY, DOPE & LOVE
A boy who identified himself only as "Wolfman," was also in the small
gathering. But, rather than seem a real part of the longhair group,
he seemed more like a tag-along. With uneasiness, he explained his bag,
or scene.
"I like long hair because I feel worst without it. I feel more
at ease with it. It's security; I'm a part of something."
"I take dope," he continued, "because it's a new experience. Regular
life is a drag. The same thing over and over again. With dope you see
new things, such as horror things or ghosts which are better than movies.
You feel these things."
Of course, he was speaking over a year ago when hardly anyone had heard
of Haight-Ashbury and the Strip had sidewalks strangled with too many
trying to be "in." Now, even the Frisco colony has bled somewhat since
becoming a tourist attraction.
Asked to define the "point" of dope, Buckely answered with just one
word, "Love".
There was silence for a moment then this writer commented on how the
interview could finish with that reply.
"Yeah, like we love everybody," said Jeff.
"How else can you put perfect strangers in your house?" questioned Darryl.
"We judge people on nothing else but what kind of persons they are."
"There's a real honesty behind dope as opposed to the falseness behind
alcohol," said Buckley.
Darryl Jacobs, who says he is a genius with an IQ of 187, said he doubted
"grass" would ever be legalized because "It would hurt the alcohol and
tobacco industries which are putting a lot of money into lobbying." Jim Buckley, then sat up, and, stretching, said teasingly, "I think the ending of this article should be 'No dope, no hope'." -30- |
DARRYL AND JEFF
A year ago this
writer hadn't been turned onto the world of "hippie" subculture. The
mention of such a brotherhood quickly brought up the image of the Hell's
Angels family. Asked if his group could be linked with such an organization,
Darryl Jacobs smiled, then answered, "We have no charter with the police,
no name, no nothing like that. Our group refuses to prostitute itself
to society."
"This brotherhood,"
said Jeff Byron, "is just a natural thing. We all believe in the same
things."
On a perfect Monday afternoon we met in front of Pandora's Box. While
we were there we could feel the over-the-nose stares coming from the
passing Cadillacs and Falcons. Because of this we weren't shocked when
a Mustang collided into the rear of a Continental and the Pandora crowd
responded with cheers and applause.
Darryl
Jacobs, lying down with his eyes closed, sat up and calmly gave the
distrubing accounts of a recent trip to Florida.
"Well, everytime
the teenybeats did something, they would go home and we'd get in trouble.
We finally decided to do something and, with the help of the police,
we got the teenybeats out of the way. But they started coming back when
some of our members started giving up, feeling it was useless. Thing
is, for awhile we got so close with the police we almost got a charter
with them. It was all flushed."
"It scares me that these
kids are going to be the future parents. This decade is the best time
to be growing in. There are so many things happening and changing and
these kids, the lame teenagers, are just out of it. I'd rather have
my boy busted on a narcotics charge than make All-American football."
Attebury: "Are
you a homosexual?"
"I don't try to
convert anyone to what I think he should do. If they think something
is right, I feel, You leave us alone and we'll leave you alone." Darryl
said.
Jim Buckley, who
was born in New Zealand and is not a U.S. citizen yet but, can still
be drafted, said, « Over here," nodding toward Sunset Strip, "people
have the long hair and use dope but miss the point. There's a colony
around Haight and Ashbury streets in San Francisco where the
world is relaxed and groovy.'
