Nonfiction review: 'Orange Sunshine'
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/03/30/DD8V1CK8EQ.DTL
Steve Heilig, Special to The Chronicle
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Orange Sunshine
The Brotherhood of Eternal Love and Its Quest to Spread Peace, Love,
and Acid to the World
By Nicholas Schou
(Thomas Dunne/St. Martin's; 306 pages; $24.99)
"Don't take the brown acid" was the famous warning issued about a bad
batch of LSD from the stage at the Woodstock Festival in 1969. But
meanwhile, some shadowy but influential West Coasters were counseling
everyone to try the orange stuff.
Orange Sunshine was a "brand" of LSD made and marketed by a band of
initially idealistic young men operating out of Laguna Beach, the
bucolic village ironically nestled in Orange County. Calling
themselves the Brotherhood of Eternal Love, they were acid
evangelists who soon became known as a "hippie mafia."
The Brotherhood's story is "the most surreal saga of the 1960s that
has never been told," writes journalist Nicholas Schou, whose new
book, "Orange Sunshine," is as close to an "authorized" story as
there's likely to be. Much of it reads more like fiction than history.
If there was a key founder of the Brotherhood, it was John Griggs,
whom Timothy Leary would call "the holiest man ever to live in this
country." Griggs and a few friends began as working-class petty
criminals who heard about a new drug called LSD, stole some at
gunpoint from a Hollywood producer, and soon were apostles of
psychedelic-induced "ego death," wherein one "realizes the
insignificance of his or her petty, worldly concerns and feels for
the first time a powerful and humbling connection to a greater life
force in the universe."
Thus Griggs felt that if enough people took enough acid, "they could
create a utopian society that would serve as a demonstration to the
entire world of the healing powers of LSD." Their goal: use market
forces to make LSD cheap by flooding the nation with it. In 1966 the
Brotherhood drew up a legal charter, moved to Laguna Beach in search
of nice beaches and pretty girls, and "helped usher in a flowering
hippie scene that established the city as a Southern California
version of Haight-Ashbury."
In their heyday, "Brothers" smuggled surfboards inlaid with LSD and
hash worldwide. Mexican officials were paid off to allow tons of pot
to cross the border. A hash-packed yacht was sailed to Hawaii by
stoned non-sailors. Jimi Hendrix was enticed to make an incoherent
film, and even the famously stoned guitar god found the Brothers too
weird. Leary was busted in Laguna Beach, but broken out of jail using
Brotherhood of Eternal Love money funneled to the Weather Underground
and Black Panthers.
But soon things went sour. "Cocaine, and the greed and paranoia that
came with it destroyed whatever was genuine in the Brotherhood's
idealistic, spiritual origins," writes Schou. Griggs had already died
of a psilocybin overdose, and rougher Brothers prevailed. Rip-offs
and violence ensued. It all culminated in a 1972 bust that "yielded
53 people and two and half tons of hash, thirty gallons of hashish
oil, and 1.5 million tablets of Orange Sunshine."
"The Brotherhood's dream of turning on the world had been deferred,"
concludes Schou. But dreams die hard, and Schou's interviews with
surviving Brothers, some doing well, some penniless, illustrate the
thin line between dream and delusion. "We ushered in the age we are
in now, which reflects a much more open-minded, open-hearted and
spiritually inspired world," reflects one Brother, who must live a
very isolated life.
At this point in history, the Brotherhood's story reads like some
mystical adventure tale from a long-gone era. But for a peek at those
heady times, "Orange Sunshine" is one worthy flashback.
--
Steve Heilig serves on the editorial board of the Journal of
Psychoactive Drugs. E-mail him at books@sfchronicle.com.
--------
From Canyon To Cove:
Drop in and turn on
By Cindy Frazier
April 1, 2010
It's hard to believe that the idyllic Laguna Canyon enclave of
Woodland Drive, not too far from the Boys & Girls Club of Laguna
Beach, was once known as Dodge City because of the gunfire that
tended to erupt there in the 1960s.
That was a long time ago, but it seems memories are still fresh about
the days when Laguna Beach and Woodland Drive was the center of a
sophisticated and highly entrepreneurial international drug ring that
imported and sold marijuana, hashish and the "new" drug, LSD, with a
zeal and business-savvy that could have impressed a Donald Trump.
That's also when psychologist- turned-drug guru Timothy Leary who
had been kicked out of Harvard University for sanctioned LSD
experimentation and later arrested after LSD became illegal was
given shelter in the canyon by the secretive and still-mysterious
Brotherhood of Eternal Love. People are still trying to figure out if
the Brotherhood was a group of Orange County street thugs, a drug
cartel, a hippie mafia or a cult of mystics determined to spread
peace and love throughout the world. Or all of the above.
OC Weekly investigative reporter Nick Schou has been on the case for
years, and has just published a fascinating book called "Orange
Sunshine The Brotherhood of Eternal Love and Its Quest to Spread
Peace, Love and Acid to the World."
Schou's book reads like a movie treatment, complete with hair-raising
scenes of international smuggling in Afghanistan, near-arrests and
miraculous escapes, surfing on acid, psychic visions, UFOs, and, of
course, Leary and his bizarre escapades.
Another, more scholarly work focusing on Leary and his Harvard
cohorts has also just come out: "The Harvard Psychedelic Club How
Timothy Leary, Ram Dass, Houston Smith and Andrew Weil Killed the
Fifties and Ushered in a New Age For America." This book is by Don
Lattin, a veteran religion writer for the San Francisco Chronicle and
a national commentator on religious topics. Lattin says in an
afterward to his book that he had wanted to write about LSD ever
since experiencing "good" and "bad" acid trips in his early 20s.
Both books are at Latitude 33 bookshop, and both authors will be
making appearances there soon.
Just like Leary and his team of researchers, people are still trying
to figure out what LSD and the other psychedelic drugs actually do
and how they do it, and whether the effects are "good" or "bad."
As Lattin recounts in his book, LSD goes back to the 1950s and the
Cold War, when the CIA began experimenting with it (at Harvard no
less) as a possible "truth serum" or covert weapon.
The agency finally decided that LSD wasn't reliable enough for
military use, and about 10 years later the drug was the centerpiece
of a major psychological experiment at the prestigious university.
That's when Leary as drug guru explodes on the scene, with his mantra
to "Tune in, turn on and drop out."
Really, it was more like "Drop in and turn on," since he apparently
made it his business to hand out LSD to anyone and everyone within his reach.
Leary actually "discovered" psychedelics while in Mexico, according
to Lattin's research. He and his friends were enamored of futuristic
writer Alduous Huxley, author of "Brave New World" and "The Doors of
Perception," who had used psilocybin mushrooms and other natural
hallucinogens to "expand" his mind. Leary embraced the magic
mushroom, used traditionally by indigenous Mexicans for spiritual
purposes, and his Harvard colleagues decided to give it a try as a
psychiatric drug. Thus the Harvard Psilocybin Project was born in 1960.
Leary began giving synthetic psilocybin and then LSD to prisoners,
graduate students and even allegedly some undergrads, which proved
fatal for his career. But that didn't matter because by then Leary's
charisma and genius at promoting himself and the seductive quality
of the hallucinogens attracted wealthy backers who set him up and
helped him attain national stature as the guru of psychedelics and,
according to President Nixon, "the most dangerous man in America."
Eventually, Leary made his way to the West Coast, where the
Brotherhood gave him a place of honor in their group, which,
according to Schou's account, was led by a charismatic Anaheim wild
child named John Griggs, who had turned from car-racing and street
brawling to mysticism through LSD. As they say, "Better living
through chemistry."
Griggs and his followers migrated to bucolic Modjeska Canyon, where
they formed a pastoral church centered around hallucinogens, and
then, being of an entrepreneurial spirit, began developing their
illicit drug business. Needing a low-key hideout, they hit upon
Woodland Drive, an out-of-the-way collection of small cottages and
shacks which were cheap to rent. They also opened an art gallery and
head shop called Mystic Arts World on South Coast Highway.
As the enterprises grew, and the '60s wore on, more and more "flower
children" began converging on Laguna Beach for its easy access to
street drugs and free lifestyle, and this attracted the attention of
the local police, whereupon a dicey cat-and-mouse game began to be
played out on the streets.
And so Dodge City was born.
It all came crashing down with the death of 25-year-old Griggs in
August 1969, who ironically succumbed after ingesting a massive dose
of synthetic psilocybin virtually the same stuff that had launched
Leary on his wild and crazy adventure nine years before.
The Brotherhood's last stand was an ill-fated Christmas Day, 1970
rock concert at Sycamore Flats where some 25,000 hippies gathered a
la Woodstock, fueled by free LSD that was literally dropped from the
sky by the Brotherhood. After that blowout, the iron hand of the law
came down hard on most of the members.
Schou's book may yet be followed by an account of the era written by
former Laguna Beach Police Chief Neil Purcell, who made his bones in
the department in December 1968 by arresting Leary, his wife and son
on drug charges, which landed Leary in jail and which led to
Leary's escape to Algeria with the help of the Weather Underground
and the Black Panthers. And so the stories go, a long, strange trip indeed.
Does this all sound unbelievable to you? Ah, the '60s. If you
remember it, you couldn't have been there.
Lattin will sign his book at 6 p.m. Wednesday, and Schou will make an
appearance at 5 p.m. April 10, at Latitude 33 Bookshop, 311 Ocean
Ave. The bookstore's number is (949) 494-5403.
--
CINDY FRAZIER is city editor of the Coastline Pilot. She can be
contacted at (949) 380-4321 or cindy.frazier@latimes.com.
--------
Revisiting the Brotherhood's Secret Society
By Dinah Shields, Special to the Independent
April 2, 2010
Today, a hidden-away alcove of cottages and footpaths, shaded by big
trees and colorful bougainvillea, is one of Laguna Canyon's
neighborhood gems. But in the late '60s, it was known as Dodge City,
home of acid-dropping hippies who called themselves the Brotherhood
of Eternal Love.
Taking his title from the high-powered strain of LSD the canyon
residents made and sold, local journalist Nicholas Schou has written
a history of this wild era of Laguna's past in "Orange Sunshine." He
tells a fascinating and complex story of American counterculture with
clarity, verve and meticulous research. The book starts in 1966 with
a group of Orange County surfers and stoners who first rented houses
together in Modjeska Canyon.
Beginning in 1967 they began drifting into a warren of houses on
Laguna Canyon's Woodland Drive, just inland from the where the Boys
and Girls Club now sits. They were led by charismatic John Griggs, a
(somewhat) reformed drug smuggler from Anaheim. As author Schou said,
"Griggs truly believed in the spiritual nature of what they
experienced during their LSD sessions." In the meantime, drug-running
would pay the bills.
Life with the Brotherhood was peaceful, planned around weekend acid
trips in true hippie fashion, but trouble soon began to pile up.
Their head shop, Mystic Arts World, at 670 S. Coast Highway, was
destroyed by a fire that began under mysterious circumstances. Arson
was suspected, along with bad wiring and an excess of candle-burning.
It had become a mecca for hippies and flower children, much to the
annoyance of an aggressive police officer, Neil Purcell. The current
building on the site houses a lingerie shop.
Further trouble came to town along with already-famous Timothy Leary,
at the invitation of an admiring Griggs. At the time, Leary had
recently been let go from Harvard University for his rather
over-enthusiastic experimentation with LSD. Leary's presence and the
proliferation of Orange Sunshine brought in its wake thousands of
hippies. And increased police attention. The canyon enclave became
known as Dodge City, due to gunfights arising from police raids.
After Griggs death in August of 1969 from a drug overdose, "the
Brotherhood fell apart and hard drugs, especially cocaine, finished
it off," Schou says. The Brotherhood turned away from any pretension
of spirituality and moved towards its identity as the Hippie Mafia,so
dubbed by Rolling Stone magazine in 1972. Hashish shipments came in
regularly from Afghanistan, sometimes inside hollowed-out surfboards.
Drug arrests continued, including the 1968 arrest and eventual
conviction, of Leary himself, by Purcell, then Laguna Beach's police
chief. Rosemary Woodruff Leary is credited with helping her husband
escape from prison in 1970 with the help of the Weather Underground.
A canyon rock concert held at Christmas in 1970 included an airdrop
of tabs of acid over the heads of 25,000 attendees. Laguna native Pat
Quilter remembers "the famous Laguna Canyon rock festival, which
caused the city to panic. They closed down PCH and Laguna Canyon Road
for three days," he said in an interview.
The Brotherhood, incorporated as a church in 1966, was ended in
August 1972 by the then-largest drug raid in California's history.
The final outstanding arrest warrant from the raid was exercised last
year. Brenice Lee Smith, Schou said, was "the last of the fugitives
to be arrested, after 40 years on the run." Smith served two months
in jail, and is currently back living with his wife and daughter in
Tibet, where he had mostly lived since his Dodge City days.
By coincidence, another involving and well-researched book with links
to Leary and Laguna is also being released this month. "The Harvard
Psychedelic Club," by Don Lattin, covers psychologists Timothy Leary
and Richard Alpert (also known as Ram Dass), botanist Andrew Weil
(yes, the health guru) and religious scholar Huston Smith. Leary,
whose famous message to promote LSD use, "tune in, turn on, drop
out," is perhaps the best known of the four.
The men were drawn together over Leary's LSD research. Leary and
Alpert were thrown out of their Harvard jobs in 1963, for, among
other offenses, giving drugs to undergraduates. Leary was in and out
of jail until 1976, then continued as a writer and lecturer. He died
in 1996 of prostate cancer. Alpert, still a spiritual seeker, as
Lattin dubs him, lives quietly in Maui. Weil went on to head a health
and lifestyle empire. Smith eventually repudiated Leary's teaching,
and continues today with his life's work of life bringing the world's
religions together.
Latitude 33 Bookstore, 311 Ocean Avenue, hosts a book signing for
Lattin's "The Harvard Psychedelic Club" on Wednesday, April 7, at 6
p.m. and for Schou's "Orange Sunshine" on Saturday, April 10, at 5 p.m.
--
Dinah Shields is a book-industry lifer. She is owner of Bespoke
Libraries, a Laguna-based private library service. www.bespokelibrariesca. com
.
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