Monday, February 28, 2011

Article "Locals recall 1963 civil rights sit-in at WR lunch counter - Houston & Peach - Macon.com"

Locals recall 1963 civil rights sit-in at WR lunch counter - Houston &
Peach

“You knew that something was going to happen, you just didn’t know
what,” said Daron Lee Sr., one of the 17. ”But you were willing to take
the chance.”

Though advocates say the turmoil sometimes associated with the civil
rights movement was uncommon in Warner Robins, the area adhered to
segregation laws. It was a time when facilities were labeled “Colored”
and “White.” Jim Crow laws legally separated schools, bathrooms,
faucets, bus seating and even jail cells.

Dr. Dawn Herd-Clark, a professor at Fort Valley State University, which
became a university in 1996, said black people eventually decided it was
time to desegregate, but not all black people joined in because such
rebellion could bring financial or bodily harm.

“Most black folks did not participate (in the civil rights movement),”
she said. “It takes someone very courageous to do that.”

On October 19, 1963 -- less than a year before President Lyndon Johnson
signed the Civil Rights Act on July 2, 1964, which outlawed
discrimination on the basis of race or sex -- local students decided it
was their turn to join the national stand against separate but unequal
lifestyles.

“There were a lot of demonstrations then, around the nation,” Lee said.
“We figured it was time to do things.”

Joining the fight

The students were youth members of the National Association for the
Advancement of Colored People, one of the organizations that spearheaded
the civil rights movement.

The Warner Robins chapter received its charter only a month before
then-chapter President Sammy Smith and the students devised a plan to
fully integrate Liggett’s Drug Store. Black people could buy anything in
the store but were not allowed to eat at the lunch counter, a staple in
drug stores at the time.

“We felt we had the right to sit down and eat, even though segregation
did not permit that,” Lee said.

The stage for what those involved believe to be the first sit-in in
Warner Robins was located in the back corner of Williams Plaza Shopping
Center, near the intersection of Watson Boulevard and Houston Road.

The cast consisted of 17 students at Fort Valley State College, as FVSU
was known then, the Warner Robins Police Department and an unknowing
store manager. The backdrop included civil rights activists marching
along Watson Boulevard.

“None of the adults went in because we knew we were going to need
someone to bond us out,” said Margaret Sanks-Hobes, who was 17 at the
time and hadn’t told her father of the plan.

The students drove to the parking lot. Unsure of what to expect, they
split into groups of four and five since the lunch counter had limited
seating.

“We didn’t want them to have any reason to say they couldn’t serve us,”
Sanks-Hobes said. “They had room.”

The first group included Lee, who was the youth president of the NAACP
chapter, and Sanks-Hobes, who was the youth vice president. They walked
into the drugstore, sat down and ordered.

“We all knew we were going to jail,” Lee said. “We knew that we probably
would not get served.”

With their backs to the door and whatever was to come, the group
demanded their lunch order.

“(Warner Robins police officers) testified the demonstrators argued with
a waitress and the manager of the store and insisted they wanted to be
served,” reads a Nov. 7, 1963, article in The Telegraph about the first
court hearing for the 17.

“The officers said the manager asked the sit-iners to leave and then the
officers asked them to leave before they were placed under arrest.”

For about 20 minutes, each group followed the same routine. They
entered, ordered, refused to leave and were arrested.

According to the 1963 article, manager Robert Worth testified that “no
one said anything out of place.”

“We had been trained to be non-violent,” Sanks-Hobes said.

Of course, that didn’t stop 19-year-old Lee from pushing the limits. He
put a quarter in the jukebox while “waiting” to be served.

After 17 students were arrested, the owners shut down the drug store for
the day. According to Sanks-Hobes, at least 20 more students were
prepared to sit-in.

Some of the 17 recently recalled the episode with the clarity of
yesterday.

Sanks-Hobes said the group was put on an “ol’ raggedy bus” to the city
jail, where they spent the rest of the day. The charge was trespassing
and disorderly conduct, according to the 1963 article.

“The store is not integrated,” Worth plainly said at the November 1963
hearing.

Lee said the students were eventually transferred “to the big jail in
Perry.” There, he said, they were served pork and beans, and cornbread,
but none touched the cold beans and days-old bread.

“But, the next morning, people were so hungry that we began to eat it,”
Lee said with a chuckle.

After two days, they were released.

“They gave us a real meal” at Springfield Baptist Church, Lee said. The
church remains on Alberta Road today.

Their release wasn’t the end of their defiance. At one of their court
hearings, Sanks-Hobes rebelled against the separate water fountain
rules.

“I said, ‘The only colored water I drink is sweet, and this water ain’t
sweet. So, I’m going to drink the white water,’” Sanks-Hobes said.

A mini-brawl ensued. When a white officer grabbed one of the students,
Lee’s mother “started beating him with her pocketbook.”

“Everybody was fighting in the lobby,” Lee said.

After months of hearings, the charges were eventually dismissed.

Warner Robins calmer than most

The demonstration remains a real-life illustration of the tensions that
preceded integration. Separate facilities for white and “colored” people
were legal, but the bathrooms, water fountains and services for blacks
were typically substandard.

Professor Herd-Clark said it is a common misconception that the civil
rights movement was confined to the early 1960s.

“The civil rights movement did not happen overnight. It’s really been
going on since slavery,” she said.

The key factors that pushed the movement to a head in the late 1950s and
early 1960s, Clark-Herd said, were World War II, groundbreaking U.S.
Supreme Court rulings on desegregation, and the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

Icons such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X spoke out, and groups
that included the Freedom Riders and the NAACP organized demonstrations
around the nation. Histories of the early 1960s fight for equal rights
are filled with stories and images of demonstrators being beaten,
lynched, pummelled by firehoses and disappearing without a trace.

However, local civil rights advocate Ada Lee, Daron Lee Sr.’s mother,
said those horrific pictures, stories and images were not a reality in
Warner Robins.

“We were blessed in that way,” said Lee, who says she participated in
every march locally. “We never was beat up or anything for picketing and
demonstrating.”

Lee said she joined the ranks of local activists in desegregating Warner
Robins because it was her chance to finally do something about the tears
her daughter shed years after being called a racial slur.

“There was nothing I could do about it then, but I said that when the
time came ... it inspired me to do all that I could do to make Warner
Robins better for African-Americans,” she said.

The activists demanded white establishments give black people jobs at
gas stations and supermarkets and to be allowed to use “white”
facilities. But for all the demands, none of the protesters were beaten,
she said.

Newspaper articles from 1963 and 1964 mirror Lee’s recollection. Stories
about missing persons and out-of-control demonstrations that were
written for local publications were set in cities in other parts of the
state and nation.

A September 1963 story described a Department of Defense directive that
prohibited Robins Air Force Base units from participating in segregated
activities or visiting segregated establishments. Though city leaders
allowed business owners to continue operating as they pleased, they
urged a group in October 1963 to “realize where our economy comes from”
-- Robins Air Force Base.

Times have changed, but still not perfect

The actions of civil rights advocates permitted black and white children
to grow up together. Schools are integrated. Water fountains are for
everyone. President Barack Obama, who is of mixed race, is known as the
first black president.

Local activists said all of those things prove America has progressed by
leaps and bounds since the fight for equality decades ago but there is
room for improvement, they said.

It could be argued that the black community has stepped backwards in
some ways since the 1960s, said Sanks-Hobes and Alberta Fuller, who was
also one of the 17. Sanks-Hobes said government assistance has created a
security blanket some are unwilling to shake.

“All of those free handouts have pushed us back some,” she said. “It’s
embarrassing to my race.”

Smith, the NAACP president who supported the 17 and helped lead the
local movement, said that he and his fellow activists worked to get five
black officers -- including Frank Jones, who participated in the sit-in
-- hired at the Warner Robins Police Department.

“And, we still have about five on the department now,” Smith said.

Meanwhile, according to Daron Lee Sr., there is a section of the black
community that believes no one should “rock the boat.” It prevents some
from fighting as hard as in the past, he said.

He was willing to sacrifice graduating on time, he said. Court hearings
after the sit-in cut into class time, so he had to drop out for a year.

It was a sacrifice that even his mother says was worth it.

“It took all of that to accomplish what we were trying to do.”

To contact writer Christina M. Wright, call 256-9685.

--
http://www.macon.com/2011/02/13/1449640/warner-robins-civil-rights-sit.html
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Article "Documentary stirs memories of civil rights"

Documentary stirs memories of civil rights

The documentary 'Save Our History: Voices of Civil Rights" will be
featured at 7 p.m., Thursday, Feb. 17 in the Myrtlewood Room of the Coos
Bay Public Library, 525 Anderson Ave.

In the summer of 2004, journalists, photographers, and videographers
toured the country for 70 days collecting thousands of stories from
individuals who lived during the civil rights era of the 1940s-'60s.

The project, Voices of Civil Rights, was a collaborative effort by the
AARP, the Leadership Council on Civil Rights and the Library of
Congress. It promises to be the world's largest archive of civil rights
oral history.

'Save Our History" samples these stories and weaves them into a portrait
of life in the United States during a tumultuous period.

Blacks and whites, children and parents, Freedom Riders and
segregationists all speak from their own experiences. They demonstrate
that those who battled for and against equality are still alive today,
as are their memories.

The program is free, sponsored by the Friends of Coos Bay Public
Library. For more information, visit bay.cooslibraries.org or call
541-269-1101.

--
http://m.theworldlink.com/lifestyles/article_4423d093-0a61-5fd0-82a9-1b050a3235a1.html
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Article "Freedom rides on

Freedom rides on - Local News - News

A group of high school students will set off from the University of
Sydney this Saturday to retrace the original Freedom Ride led by
Aboriginal activist Charles Perkins in 1965.

Thirty indigenous and non-indigenous students along with staff from
Youth Connections and the NSW Department of Education will retrace the
2300km journey through 21 NSW country towns to celebrate the significant
impact this expedition had on the identity of Aboriginal Australia.

Kevin “Gavi” Duncan, an Aboriginal elder of the Darkinjung community who
works for Koori Connect of Youth Connections, is the cultural adviser
for the 2011 Freedom Ride. His parents, Kevin and Coral Duncan, were
interviewed in Moree by the first Freedom Riders. His father was the
first qualified Aboriginal carpenter and had built a house on the edge
of town.

“At the time in Moree, Aboriginal people were not allowed into bars or
clubs, or the picture show or the local pool, which became very famous
in regards to the apartheid type treatment aboriginal people were
receiving,” Mr Duncan said.

“They were asked if they were having any trouble with non-Aboriginal
people about being Aboriginal and moving up into the town area, and my
dad said no, basically they were good neighbours and they didn’t have
any problems.”

Mr Duncan believes that the original Freedom Ride deserves recognition
as one of the most significant events in Australian political history, a
forerunner for improvements to the quality of life for Aboriginal people
and the 1967 referendum, which enabled Aboriginal people to be counted
in the national census and to be subject to Commonwealth laws, rather
than just state laws.

“By taking these 30 students, it’s opening their eyes, but also
hopefully sending a message Australiawide that we should not forget
about these significant changes in the political history of Australia,
and in Indigenous history,” he said.

He said the new Freedom Ride is going to be a positive experience that
will ask people to think about what the original ride represented and to
celebrate the freedoms discovered as a result.

The 2011 Freedom Ride will carry a message stick and will deliver it to
the Australian Government in the context of the latest national
referendum, announced by Prime Minister Julia Gillard last year, on
whether Aboriginal Australians should be recognised in the Australian
constitution.

--
http://sydney-central.whereilive.com.au/news/story/freedom-rides-on/
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Article "Freedom Riders lead students on journey through civil rights history | montgomeryadvertiser.com | Montgomery Advertiser"

Freedom Riders lead students on journey through civil rights history |
montgomeryadvertiser.com

Ernest "Rip" Patton and Diane Nash were what they both deemed "ordinary
students" at historically black universities in Nashville, Tenn. when
they put themselves on the front lines of the modern civil rights
movement.

In fact, they were likely the same age as many of the Alabama State
University students who filled a campus auditorium Tuesday to learn
about Nash and Patton's role in the 1961 Freedom Rides.

They were testing a U.S. Supreme Court decision that ruled state
segregation of interstate travel was unconstitutional. Both participated
in a symposium hosted by the university as part of its Black History
Month observance.

Attendees also got to hear from famed civil rights attorney Solomon Seay
Jr., who along with attorney Fred Gray, worked to secure the release of
Freedom Riders jailed for violating a Montgomery County Circuit judge's
injunction issued the day before they were scheduled to arrive in
Montgomery.

Patton, a Nashville native, was a student at what was then Tennessee A &
I State University (now Tennessee State University). Nash, who was from
Chicago, had not too long ago arrived at Fisk University from Howard
University in Washington, D.C.

Nash said she had an intellectual understanding of segregation, but, as
a Midwesterner, was unprepared for the humiliation caused by Jim Crow
laws.

She said that in downtown Nashville blacks often ate outside along the
curb of a street, because they couldn't eat inside the restaurant or at
the lunch counter where they purchased their food. She started looking
for an organization that would help her do something about the
injustices she witnessed daily.

Patton, who had grown up in the segregated city, was no less affected.
He too sought a way to change things. They both landed in the same
place: the Student Central Committee of the Nashville Christian
Leadership Council.

Through the Rev. James Lawson they were introduced to the non-violent
methods of protest and civil disobedience that Mohandas "Mahatma" Gandhi
employed and were prepared for the tough road ahead of sit-ins at lunch
counters and later the Freedom Rides.
(2 of 2)
"We practiced demonstrations," said Nash, who would rise to lead the
student committee and coordinate the Freedom Rides from Nashville. "We
certainly didn't know that we would be successful."

May 14, 1961, certainly didn't give them much hope that they would be
successful. One of two buses that had traveled from Washington, D.C.,
was firebombed when it reached Anniston.

The second bus, which went on to Birmingham, was met by a violent mob.
The outbreak of violence nearly put an end to the Freedom Rides, but
Patton and Nash said the determination of the students kept them alive.

"It was clear to me that if we allowed the Freedom Rides to end, then
the message would have been sent that the project could be ended by
inflicting massive violence on the movement," she said.

But they needed the financial assistance of the elder members of their
community who were rightfully concerned about the safety of the
students. The students refused to be deterred from their mission.

"We didn't ask anybody and many of us signed our wills because we knew
there was a possible chance that somebody wasn't coming back," he said.
"We vowed that no matter what happened to the first wave, the second
wave of students from Nashville was coming."

Patton said many students put aside their everyday concerns such as
taking exams to participate in the Freedom Rides. Patton at one point
sacrificed his personal freedom when he was among the riders arrested in
Jackson, Miss. He said they endured it all because they were trained to
do so.

"We were trained in how to take a blow, we were trained on how not to
respond with rebellion when we were being spit on," he said. "We were
well-trained in scriptures and to sing hymns, which confounded our
enemy. That's what got us through."

Nash said she's an opponent of the singling out of such charismatic
leaders in history such as the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. because it
keeps regular people from taking action.

"It undermines present and future liberation movements," she said. "(The
Freedom Rides) were conducted by ordinary people. Students did
everything."

Seay, who rushed to the aid of the riders who'd been beaten and jailed
in Montgomery, said he and so many like him were at the right time and
the right place to bring down segregation. But he said he's deeply
disturbed by those who believe that the election of the nation's first
black president is the fulfillment of King's dream and the end of the
struggle for civil rights.

"There are a lot of young folks who don't realize that everything isn't
all right," he said.

--
http://www.montgomeryadvertiser.com/article/20110202/NEWS01/102020312/Freedom+Riders+lead+students+on+journey+through+civil+rights+history
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Article "Freedom rider=?UTF-8?B?4oCZcyBqb3VybmV5?= made strides in historic Civil Rights Movement"

Freedom rider’s journey made strides in historic Civil Rights Movement

May 1961, 13 people boarded a bus headed to Washington, D.C. with plans
to help desegregate the South by organizing sit-ins in public
establishments that abided by Jim Crow laws. It was the first freedom
ride orchestrated by Jim Farmer, founder of Congress of Racial Equality.

Now a U.S. Representative from Georgia, John Lewis was one of the ones
who boarded the bus that day. Hank Thomas, now president of Hospitality
Properties Inc. was another participant. The men recalled their
harrowing experiences in a recent interview with the Defender.

The riders were often met by angry white mobs who would verbally abused
and brutally beat them upon their arrival, and Lewis and Thomas would be
jailed several times in their pursuit of justice – a quest that almost
cost them their lives.

It was in Alabama that the two recall their first brush with death.

Their bus was firebombed in Anniston, Ala., something Lewis remembers
vividly.

"I really thought I was going to die, I was just trying to decide which
was the best way to die," said Lewis, who was a founder and leader of
the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee. "If I got off the bus I
was going to be beaten to death by that mob, of course it would've been
a very painful death, if I stayed on the bus I was under the mistaken
impression that if you breathe in toxic smoke it will simply put you to
sleep and that was the way you would die.

Lewis said after a couple of seconds of smoke inhalation the natural
instincts kicked in and compelled him "to get air any way you can."

It wasn't until he tried to get off the bus that he realized the mob was
holding the bus doors shut.

"I heard them say ‘burn them niggers up, burn them up,’" the Georgia
Democrat said. "And the sad irony of this is that a lot of these people
had just come from church. They had their children with them as they
were coming to watch what was going to happen to the freedom riders."

Another memorable attack occurred in Selma, Ala. on March 7, 1965. It
would also make national headlines and an indelible mark on the
country’s Civil Rights Movement.

Only 25 years old, Lewis had planned to lead a march of 600 civil rights
activists from Selma approximately 50 miles to the state capitol of
Montgomery. But the marchers only made it to the Edmund Pettus Bridge in
Selma where a gruesome scene would take place that would later be called
Bloody Sunday.

Police armed with tear gas and other weapons awaited the marchers at the
foot of the bridge.

When they reached the bridge Lewis said they saw a sea of blue uniforms
and were warned they had two minuets to turn around.

Lewis decided that since they were already there, and the crowd was too
big for them to turn around even if they wanted to, they should stop and
get in the prayer position.

Only that message wouldn't get far, said Lewis, because the next thing
the crowd knew, it was being attacked.

The Alabama native recalled being struck with weapons and having tear
gas used against them. He and his crowd were then chased back to a
chapel in Selma.

It wasn't until later on that night Lewis found out he had suffered a
skull fracture from the blow he took on the left side of his head from a
trooper’s club. He was admitted to the hospital for three days where he
was visited by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who reassured him the march
would take place.

But out of that and other bloody encounters before it came voting rights
legislation.

Lewis said the images were so disturbing to people that there were
"demonstrations in more than 80 cities protesting the brutality and
urging the passage of the voting rights act. There were speeches on both
floors of congress, condemning the attack and calling for voting rights
legislation."

On Aug. 6, 1965, the legislation was signed by more than 60 Congressman
and sent to President Lyndon Johnson, said Lewis. The Voting Right's Act
outlawed discriminatory practices that would hinder or prevent Blacks or
any other people from voting.

Copyright 2011 Chicago Defender

--
http://www.chicagodefender.com/article-10029-freedom-riderrss-journey-made-strides-in-historic-civil-rights-movement.html
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Article "The Freedom Riders saga | The UWM Post"

The Freedom Riders saga | The UWM Post

Twice in 1960, the Supreme Court of the United States of America ruled
that racial segregation in bus terminals and interstate travel was
unconstitutional and thus illegal. However, many states in the South
refused to acknowledge these rulings and continued to enforce Jim Crow
laws, subsequently supporting segregation and a “separate but equal”
standing between African-Americans and Caucasians.

The interracial rides officially began on May 4, 1961. There were 13
people of multiple diversities who attempted to ride from Washington
D.C. to New Orleans. Met with massive resistance and violence, the
riders’ goal was ultimately unmet as they did not manage to make it to
New Orleans.

In Anniston, Ala., the group was met with incredible resistance by
members of the Ku Klux Klan. The group waylaid the bus, slashing its
tires. The riders were surrounded, stranded; some members of the KKK
held the bus doors shut while others threw Molotov cocktails at it,
trying to burn the activists to death. There was an as-of-yet
undisclosed event that forced the members of the KKK to disperse,
allowing the riders to retreat.

Upon arrival of the bus to the terminal in Anniston, the riders were
viciously attacked by more KKK members, a move orchestrated by Police
Sergeant Tom Cook, who was himself a Klan member.

In Birmingham, the situation escalated even further. Upon arrival, the
riders were met with an angry mob, armed with all sorts of melee weapons
from baseball bats to chains. They were viciously beaten and eventually
arrested. Members of the community ranging from average citizens to FBI
informants participated in the savage beatings.

Upon hearing about the Freedom Riders and the controversy surrounding
them, Robert Kennedy, the Attorney General, urged the Freedom Riders to
tone down their actions. In a statement by his brother, President John
F. Kennedy, he vaguely referenced the movement by saying that civil
rights distracted from foreign policy decisions.

The Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) continued the rides
despite the unsuccessful attempt to get to New Orleans. Again, upon
arriving in Birmingham they were arrested and later transferred to
Tennessee as the overlooking police official at the time was unable to
stand their freedom songs while imprisoned.

The worst resistance the group met was in Montgomery. After again being
savagely beaten and abandoned by public officials, the group’s
supporters rallied at a local Baptist church. Over 1,500 supporters
packed the chapel, led by Reverend Ralph Abernathy. Outside, an angry
mob of around 3,000 white supremacists surrounded the church, pelting it
with stones, bricks and fiery Molotov cocktails. Eventually the Alabama
National Guard was called in to restore order.

A deal was struck between Mississippi and the federal government where
local law enforcement would protect the Freedom Riders from mob violence
which was gaining media attention. In exchange the federal government
would not interfere with local officials arresting the riders for
violating Jim Crow laws. On entering the bus depot in Mississippi, all
of the Freedom Riders were immediately arrested.

--
http://www.uwmpost.com/2011/02/09/the-freedom-riders-saga/
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Article " Students hope to follow Freedom Riders=?UTF-8?B?w6LCgMKZIHJvdXRlIg==?=

Students hope to follow Freedom Riders’ route

Fifty years ago, Charles Person, one of the 13 original Congress of
Equality Freedom Riders, said he entered the whites-only waiting room of
the Trailways Bus terminal in Birmingham to find 20 Ku Klux Klan members
waiting for him. The group's members forced him and a friend out of the
room and began to beat them.

Another day, Klansmen came onto Person's bus, punched him in the head
and threw him from his seat to the back of the bus. They also attacked
other passengers. But Person and his fellow bus riders were fortunate —
Klansmen firebombed and attacked the other bus.

The nonviolent Congress of Equality Freedom Riders nonviolent group
traveled across the South on buses as a demonstration to challenge
segregation and racism. About 430 people of various races, ages and
genders participated in the Freedom Rides that year, eventually causing
legislative change.

On the 50th anniversary of the historic first ride, 40 students —
possibly including Northwestern students — will have the opportunity to
retrace the Freedom Rides as part of an effort by PBS to promote Stanley
Nelson's documentary "Freedom Riders."

The program was advertised through NU's Center for Civic Engagement.

Students will travel for free with past Freedom Riders across the South,
retracing the original freedom ride. Their journey will kick off in
Washington, D.C. on May 6 and end in Jackson, Miss., on May 16.

Riders will attend events along the way, including lectures and film
screenings, said Lauren Prestileo, project manager for "American
Experience," the PBS series behind the 2011 Student Freedom Ride.

Students will document their experiences in online blogs and on social
media websites like Facebook and Twitter, Prestileo said. This public
documentation will help spread the message of the Rides and allow people
who could not come along to be virtually there, she said.

Almost 1,000 students applied to take the ride, Prestileo said.
Applications were due last month, and participants will be announced at
the end of this month.

"We're looking for students who want to make a difference and make
change in their communities," Prestileo said. "We're not looking at
GPAs."

Medill freshman Gabe Bergado sent in his application last month. He said
he was interested in applying because the program merges social media
and civil rights.

"The minorities don't necessarily have the same civil rights other
people have," said Bergado, who identifies as half Mexican, half
Filipino and gay. "I wanted to become an advocate of equality for the
different spectrums I'm in of race and sexuality."

Person, who will ride along with students in May, said he also had to
apply to be a part of the original Freedom Ride of 1961. He said he was
chosen because he was 18, so he was "too young to have any skeletons in
the closet."

Person also said he proved to the organization that he would not turn
violent after being arrested at a student sit-in and spending 16 days in
solitary confinement for singing too loudly in jail.

Nelson's film tells the story of the Freedom Rides through the testimony
of Riders, government officials and witnesses, according to PBS's
website.

The outreach program for the documentary, including the Student Freedom
Ride and film screenings, will cost $1 million, Prestileo said. The
National Endowment for the Humanities gave the program a grant, and
other funding has been provided by Liberty Mutual, the Alfred P. Sloan
Foundation, PBS and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, according
to the website.

Prestileo said she hopes stories of the original Freedom Riders will
inspire students and serve as a catalyst for "harder conversation" when
they return to their communities.

The ride will prove to students they can create a better world, Person
said.

"If nothing else," he said, "it will show young people can make a
difference and can make a change."

rblidner@u.northwestern.edu

--
http://www.dailynorthwestern.com/campus/students-hope-to-follow-freedom-riders-route-1.2465016
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Article "Art exhibit commemorates attack on Freedom Riders | montgomeryadvertiser.com | Montgomery Advertiser"

Art exhibit commemorates attack on Freedom Riders |
montgomeryadvertiser.com

One of the most violent moments of the civil rights era occurred in
Montgomery 50 years ago and today Alaba­ma State University is
un­veiling a series of artistic de­pictions of what happened on May 20,
1961.

On that day, civil rights ac­tivists dubbed "Freedom Riders," were
attacked at Montgomery's Greyhound Bus Station where angry whites
assaulted them with baseball bats, chains, fists and whatever else they
could get their hands on.

Local authorities were vir­tually non-existent during the attack, and
the activists were saved from further beatings by Alabama Public Safety
Director Floyd Mann who withdrew his gun and waded into the mob until
the violence stopped.

Books have been written and documentaries have been shown on television
about the incident, but ASU is presenting something unique today -- an
artistic look at what occurred at the bus station half a century ago.

Presented by the National Center for the Study of Civil Rights and
African-Ameri­can Culture, the paintings will have their debut this
af­ternoon from 3 to 5 p.m. at the facility at 1345 Carter Hill Road.
The exhibit con­tinues through May 31.

The exhibition, titled: "No Crystal Stair: A Climb to Freedom," features
works by Arthur Bacon, Ricky Callo­way, Marcella Muhammad, Lee Ransaw
and Charlotte Riley-Webb.

Presented in vivid colors, the paintings depict the vio­lence, the anger
and the sor­row that resulted from a sem­inal moment in America's civil
rights movement.

"The pieces in the exhibit honor the gallant contribu­tors to
African-Americans' struggle for freedom by the Freedom Rides and by
others who sought to force the na­tion to live up to its creed of
justice and equality for all re­gardless of race," ASU spokesman Ken
Mullinax said.

ASU graduate student Ro­lundus Rice, who is helping to promote the
exhibit, said Saturday afternoon that it is one of several events that
will be presented during the 50th anniversary of the bus station
violence.

"These artists present a vivid, clear voice to what happened that day,"
he said. "It further galvanized public support for the movement, and we
are pleased to invite the public to join us."
(2 of 2)
The riders were testing federal edicts prohibiting segregated bus
seating and services in the South. The beatings they took woke the
nation to incidents that only grew worse as the 1960s pro­gressed.

Assassinations of civil rights leaders including Dr. Martin Luther King
Jr. and Medgar Evers and the mur­ders of three civil rights ac­tivists
in Alabama and Mis­sissippi led to arrests of Ku Klux Klansmen who were
re­sponsible.

"I vividly remember the tumultuous times that led to the riots during
the '60s, the demand for equality and leg­islative changes that many
take for granted today," said Riley-Webb, who plans to be at the exhibit
today.

After years of delays, the Greyhound Bus Station where the violence
occurred is slowly being turned into a museum at 210 S. Court St.

A panel depicting various aspects of the incident at the bus station was
unveiled a few years ago and work is continuing on the interior.

The building is owned by the U.S. General Services Administration while
the Alabama Historical Com­mission has the lease and is working with
local groups to help commemorate the event.

--
http://www.montgomeryadvertiser.com/article/20110213/NEWS01/102130337/Art-exhibit-commemorates-attack-on-Freedom-Riders%3E
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Article "Bronze Star for secret mission"

Bronze Star for secret mission
AUBURN
— Tall and handsome, Henry A. Prunier has the sharp eyes, regal bearing
and deep intelligence of a James Bond, so it is not too difficult to
imagine him on a classified spy mission to the jungles of Vietnam where
he worked closely with Ho Chi Minh and his cohorts at a time when they
were America's secret allies.

For his heroic service during World War II, Mr. Prunier will receive a
long-delayed Bronze Star Medal on Feb. 23 in a private ceremony at his
home at Emeritus at Eddy Pond, 667 Washington St.

He is also considered a hero in Vietnam where his U.S. Army uniform
hangs in a prominent place in the Military History Museum in Hanoi.

Mr. Prunier, and his sister, Lucille Leblanc, formerly of Oxford, grew
up on Massasoit Road on Grafton Hill in Worcester. He attended St.
Joseph's Grammar School, then Assumption Prep where he was senior class
president in 1940. He moved on to Assumption College, and then enlisted
in the U.S. Army.

“It was World War II. We all enlisted,” he said.

After basic training, he was sent to the University of California at
Berkeley where he studied Annamese, the language of Annam, a
protectorate in French Indochina. Annam is now known as Vietnam and the
language he studied became Vietnamese. Mr. Prunier, who was fluent in
French, soon was approached for recruitment by the Office of Strategic
Services, the OSS, precursor to the Central Intelligence Agency.

“At first, I said no. They said I would probably be sent overseas, and
my chances of survival were less than 50 percent. Who wants to volunteer
to die?”

Six months later, he was assigned to the OSS. “It wasn't voluntary,” he
said. He was deployed to Kunming, China, close to the Vietnam border in
the summer of 1945.

“I was assigned to a seven-man OSS team, codenamed ‘Deer Team.' Each of
us was a specialist. I was translator, Major Allison Thomas was our
leader, Lt. Rene Defourneaux was assistant leader, Paul Hoaglund was
medic, Bill Zielski was radio operator, Larry Vogt did weapons, and
Aaron Squires was our photographer.”

“We parachuted out of a C-47 into a clearing in the jungle that July. I
landed in a rice paddy, but a couple of others ended up in trees. It was
the first time I'd ever used a parachute. I was the first American who
spoke Vietnamese to land in that country,” Mr. Prunier said.

At Kim Lung village, the seven OSS specialists were greeted
enthusiastically by more than a hundred 16- to 20-year-old members of
the budding revolutionary Viet Minh, which had organized to fight
against their nation's occupation by Japan.

“They were very dedicated and learned quickly. They became the nucleus
of the North Vietnamese army,” Mr. Prunier said.

Retired Chestnut Hill lawyer and Marine Corps reserve officer Lindsay C.
Kiang, one of the organizers of the award ceremony for Mr. Prunier, said
the Viet Minh eventually formed the government of a united Vietnam.

The leaders of the Viet Minh were Ho Chi Minh, known to the OSS team as
“Mr. Hoo,” and Vo Nguyen Giap, known as “Mr. Van.”

Ho Chi Minh became prime minister and president of Vietnam after
defeating the French in a 10-year war that began shortly after World War
II ended. He died in 1969. Saigon, former capital of South Vietnam, was
renamed Ho Chi Minh City after the war. General Giap, later known as a
military genius, famously led his forces to victory over the French at
Dien Bien Phu and then over South Vietnam and the West in the Vietnam
War.

But, in the summer of 1945, Ho Chi Minh and General Giap were allied
with America and China against the Japanese.

“Van always wore a white linen suit, black shoes and a black fedora. He
was everywhere and eager to know everything. He had been a teacher
before his wife had been killed by the French,” Mr. Prunier said.

The Deer Team's job was to locate downed American pilots and to help the
two Vietnamese leaders “form a guerrilla troop to harass the Japanese
with subversion — to knock out communications and blow up railroad
tracks, to prevent the Japanese from entering China,” Mr. Prunier said.

His first assignment was to teach the Viet Minh how to use a 60 mm
mortar and a hand grenade.

“Giap wanted to know why we lobbed the grenade overhand and what
activated the mortar. One time, he looked down the barrel of the mortar.
I was shocked. His head could have been blown off. They pulled him
away,” Mr. Prunier said.

Ho Chi Minh was less curious and was extremely ill at first.

“He had dysentery and malaria. Paul Hoaglund gave him quinine and helped
him, though I think he was already on the mend with native medicines.
Hoo was awfully thin, but still had a lot of personality. He loved the
people, and they loved him. He was admired like a favorite grandfather,”
Mr. Prunier said.

He lived and worked with Ho Chi Minh and Vo Nguyen Giap for more than
three months, often talking with them.

“When I told Ho Chi Minh I was from Massachusetts, he told me he'd been
in Boston when he worked as a chef on a ship. I recall he used Parker
House stationery from Boston to write a note. He was very interesting.
He spoke six or seven languages and was quite well-traveled. He'd been a
chef in England and New York. He couldn't understand the freedom of the
Chinese in New York. He was the founder of the communist party in
France. The French thought he was evil. I saw a soft-spoken man who was
very intelligent. We were friends. He couldn't understand why communism
and democracy couldn't live hand-in-hand,” Mr. Prunier said.

He treasures a 54-inch by 24-inch, three-dimensional, silk
tapestry,“embroidered with oriental war gods,” that a grateful Ho Chi
Minh presented to him in 1945.

When Japan surrendered, the Viet Minh and Deer Team members celebrated
together, then Mr. Prunier went back to Kunming, where he worked with
the OSS on Japanese war crimes until the OSS disbanded in October, 1945,
and he headed home.

“I was on that liberty ship from the time we left Calcutta on November
11, 1945 until we landed in San Francisco in January of 1946. We went to
Ceylon and the Philippines and were rerouted around cyclones. It was a
long trip. We played cards all night and slept all day,” he said.

Much of his work with the OSS was sealed until recently, though he did
receive a citation from the “Office of Strategic Services for his
service in the theater of China.”

Mr. Prunier left the military and returned home, earning a bachelor's
degree in chemistry at the University of Massachusetts and working with
his grandfather, father and uncle for the family brick and concrete
contracting business, J. S. Prunier & Sons in Worcester, for the next 40
years.

“I disbanded the business when I retired in 1990,” Mr. Prunier said. He
and his wife of 61 years, Mariette, known as “Marie,” built a house on
the shores of Webster Lake in Webster and raised six children. They have
12 grandchildren and two great-grandsons, but lost two daughters to
cancer.

“We survived. I've had a busy life,” Mr. Prunier said. He and his wife
live at Emeritus at Eddy Pond, where he is an ambassador for new
residents. He sees his wife, who is stricken with Alzheimer's disease,
three times every day, he said.

“There's still a lot of love there. My Marie is still beautiful.”

During the Vietnam War, he said he was not an anti-war activist, though
he did say the war was not winnable, which led to accusations that he
was a communist.

“I've never been a communist, but I knew the North Vietnamese were
fighting for survival. We were fighting for a civil war. We couldn't
win,” he said.

He never saw Ho Chi Minh after 1945, but in 1995, he and Major Thomas
returned to Vietnam for a 50-year reunion and saw General Giap.

“I wondered if he'd recognize me. He looked at me for a while, then
picked up an orange and made the motion to lob it as if it were a
grenade, just like I'd taught him 50 years before. He did remember. It's
odd. I'm a hero over there.”

While on the trip, funded by the Ford Foundation, he and Major Thomas
were driven 80 miles to the site where they had parachuted into the
paddy field a half century before.

“There's a shrine there to Ho Chi Minh. That's where he founded his
party. He's like a saint to them,” Mr. Prunier said.

A few years ago, a film crew from Vietnam television came to Mr.
Prunier's home, then in Webster, to film him for a documentary on the
history of Vietnam. The BBC also filmed him for a segment on Ho Chi Minh
on Discovery Channel, and Mr. Prunier has been featured in multiple
books and magazines written about his former allies. He has several
signed copies of books with notes of thanks from authors.

“It got to be too much, and I cut them off,” he said.

When Mr. Prunier decided to clean house two years ago, Mr. Kiang helped
deliver Mr. Prunier's World War II uniform, war medals, letters and
documents to the military museum in Hanoi.

“My uniform has a place of honor there,” Mr. Prunier said.

Mr. Kiang said that was an understatement.

“The museum director said that this is one of the most significant
donations the museum has.”

It was after Mr. Prunier made this donation that a group of his friends
and admirers, led by Mr. Kiang, David Thomas and Simon Gregory, decided
to arrange duplicate medals for Mr. Prunier to keep.

Mr. Prunier will be 90 on Sept. 21. He was 23 when he first went to
Vietnam.

Mr. Kiang said that the history of the United States and Vietnam might
have been very different and far more peaceful, if the Deer Team's
recommendations on Vietnam had been heard 65 years ago.

In 1997, Mr. Prunier was the sole Deer Team member at a New York City
reunion attended by several former Viet Minh. Standing in a place of
prominence in his living room is a gold-framed plaque presented to him
from the Vietnamese government. He can no longer remember its
translation, but said it was a “gift of gratitude.”

--
http://www.telegram.com/article/20110215/NEWS/102150451/0/business
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Article "Trip to Vietnam Revives Hatred of Communism - Opinion - PatriotPost.US"

Trip to Vietnam Revives Hatred of Communism - Opinion

By Dennis Prager (Archive) · Tuesday, February 15, 2011

It was difficult to control my emotions -- specifically, my anger --
during my visit to Vietnam last week. The more I came to admire the
Vietnamese people -- their intelligence, love of life, dignity and hard
work -- the more rage I felt for the communists who brought them (and,
of course, us Americans) so much suffering in the second half of the
20th century.

Unfortunately, communists still rule the country. Yet, Vietnam today has
embraced the only way that exists to escape poverty, let alone to
produce prosperity: capitalism and the free market. So what exactly did
the 2 million Vietnamese who died in the Vietnam War die for? I would
like to ask one of the communist bosses who run Vietnam that question.
"Comrade, you have disowned everything your Communist party stood for:
communal property, collectivized agriculture, central planning and
militarism, among other things. Looking back, then, for what precisely
did your beloved Ho Chi Minh and your party sacrifice millions of your
fellow Vietnamese?"

There is no good answer. There are only a lie and a truth, and the truth
is not good.

The lie is the response offered by the Vietnamese communists and which
was repeated, like virtually all communist lies, by the world's
non-communist left. It was (and continues to be) taught in virtually
every Western university and was and continues to be spread by virtually
every news medium on the planet: The Vietnam communists, i.e., the North
Vietnamese and the Viet Cong, were merely fighting for national
independence against foreign control of their country.

First, they fought the French, then the Japanese and then the Americans.
American baby boomers will remember being told over and over that Ho Chi
Minh was Vietnam's George Washington, that he loved the American
Constitution, after which he modeled his own, and wanted nothing more
than Vietnamese independence.

Here is the truth: Every communist dictator in the world has been a
megalomaniacal, cult of personality, power hungry, bloodthirsty thug. Ho
Chi Minh was no different. He murdered his opponents, tortured only God
knows how many innocent Vietnamese, threatened millions into fighting
for him -- yes, for him and his blood soaked Vietnamese Communist Party,
backed by the greatest murderer of all time, Mao Zedong. But the moral
idiots in America chanted "Ho, ho, Ho Chi Minh" at antiwar rallies, and
they depicted America as the real murderers of Vietnamese -- "Hey, hey,
LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?"

The Vietnamese communists were not fighting America for Vietnamese
independence. America was never interested in controlling the Vietnamese
people, and there is a perfect parallel to prove this: the Korean War.
Did America fight the Korean communists in order to control Korea? Or
did 37,000 Americans die in Korea so that Koreans could be free? Who was
(and remains) a freer human being -- a Korean living under Korean
communist rule in North Korea or a Korean living in that part of Korea
where America defeated the Korean communists?

And who was a freer human being in Vietnam -- those who lived in
non-communist South Vietnam (with all its flaws) or those who lived
under Ho, ho, Ho Chi Minh's communists in North Vietnam?

America fights to liberate countries, not to rule over them. It was the
Vietnamese Communist Party, not America, that was interested in
controlling the Vietnamese people. But the lie was spread so widely and
so effectively that most of the world -- except American supporters of
the war and the Vietnamese boat people and other Vietnamese who yearned
for liberty -- believed that America was fighting for tin, tungsten and
the wholly fictitious "American empire" while the Vietnamese communists
were fighting for Vietnamese freedom.

I went to the "Vietnam War Remnants Museum" -- the Communist Party's
three-floor exhibit of anti-American photos. Nothing surprised me -- not
the absence of a single word critical of the communist North Vietnamese
or of the Viet Cong; not a word about the widespread threats on the
lives of anyone who did not fight for the communists; not a word about
those who risked their lives to escape by boat, preferring to risk dying
by drowning, being eaten by sharks or being tortured or gang-raped by
pirates, rather than to live under the communists who "liberated" South
Vietnam.

Equally unsurprising is that there is little difference between the
history of the Vietnam War as told by the Communist Party of Vietnam and
what just about any college student will be told in just about any
college by just about any professor in America, Europe, Asia or Latin
America.

I will end with the subject with which I began -- the Vietnamese. It is
impossible to visit Vietnam and not be impressed by the people. I hope I
live to see the day when the people of Vietnam, freed from the communist
lies that still permeate their daily lives, understand that every
Vietnamese death in the war against America was a wasted life, one more
of the 140 million human sacrifices on the altar of the most
bloodthirsty false god in history: communism.

COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM

--
http://patriotpost.us/opinion/dennis-prager/2011/02/15/trip-to-vietnam-revives-hatred-of-communism/
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Article "'Snow and puppets' by Foss Forward"

"Snow and puppets" by Foss Forward

I traveled to Glover, Vt., last weekend to visit my friends Heather and
Davi.

Glover is a small town of about 1,000, approximately 40 minutes from
Canada. It is the home of Bread & Puppet Theatre, an activist puppet
troupe founded in the 1960s and known for an anti-war, pro-worker
message; Heather and Davi happened to be renting a small wooden house
owned by the founder and director of Bread & Puppet, Peter Schumann, and
his wife, Elka. During the summer, the troupe performs regularly at the
farm owned by Peter and Elka, but during the winter the property is
fairly quiet, and with good reason: During my 48-hour stay, it snowed
approximately five times. “Does it snow every day here?” I asked,
because I was beginning to feel a bit like I was trapped inside a snow
globe. “Pretty much,” Heather said.

The inside of Davi and Heather’s house was quite cozy; a small wood
stove occupied the center of the room, a piano sat in the corner and the
wall was lined with books ranging from Dr. Seuss to Franz Kafka. For a
rental property, the house contained a surprising amount of art:
paintings and drawings and prints (Bread & Puppet operates a small
press, which produces posters, postcards and books), many of which
featured thoughtful and inspiring messages. During my stay, I jotted
down some of these messages, which included:

“Discipline the body, creatively” (written on a painting of a dancer)

“If the economy collapses we still have each other” (printed on a dark
background)

“You don’t need a mason to make potato salad” (written above a drawing
of an old woman’s face)

On Sunday morning, Heather suggested we snowshoe down to the Bread &
Puppet Museum, down the road from Heather and Davi’s house. “When is it
open?” I asked. “We can just let ourselves in and turn on the lights,”
she explained. I don’t know what I expected from the Bread & Puppet
Museum, but it was a much wilder place than I anticipated, and its
slogan — “one of the biggest collections of some of the biggest puppets
in the world!” — doesn’t quite do it justice, although I did like the
short synopsis printed on the museum brochure, and these two sentences
in particular:

“And, naturally, all this will decay in due course”

and

“And since this Museum replaces the traditional museum’s ideal of
preservation with acceptance of more or less graceful and inevitable
deterioration, consider making your visit sooner rather than later.”

The museum occupies a former dairy barn, and contains thousands of
puppets, mobiles, drawings, prints and masks, crammed into the bays and
stalls and grouped according to theme, color and size. Some of the
puppets recreate scenes from old shows produced by Bread & Puppet, while
others form entirely new scenes. One display is a tribute to janitors
and washerwomen, another is a dark and haunting Holocaust story. Heather
is a sculptor, and the odd and eerie beauty of the puppets prompted her
to observe, “If I could make a sculpture as good as some of these
puppets, I would be happy.”

For what it’s worth, the museum brochure describes Schumann’s style as
“a prodigious mix of Romanesque, German Expressionism, Cycladic
Minimalism and Potato-nose Naturalism.” I have no idea what that means.
But I do know that the museum is really cool. For some images, click
here.

To enter my Oscar contest, click here.

Got a comment? E-mail me at sfoss@dailygazette.net.

--
http://www.dailygazette.com/weblogs/foss/2011/feb/15/snow-and-puppets/
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Sunday, February 27, 2011

Article "Detroit Metro Times - Medical Marijuana"

Detroit Metro Times - Medical Marijuana
John Sinclair
Published: February 15, 2011
I'd like to start by thanking my Higher Ground co-host, friend and
colleague Larry Gabriel for his fine column on hemp farming last week.
As it happens, I'm staying this week at a splendid guest apartment above
the Hash Marihuana and Hemp Museum in Amsterdam's Green Row on the
Achterburgwal Canal as the guest of Sensi Seeds and its progenitor, Ben
Dronkers, who's also responsible for establishing the booming hemp
industry in the Netherlands.

Ben's a very sweet cat and what they used to call a "mild and
unassuming" character — someone who probably wouldn't want to hear me
sing his praises too loudly — but he was a leader in the Rotterdam
branch of the original movement that succeeded in eliminating
criminalization as a public approach to marijuana use in Holland in the
early 1970s.

Ben Dronkers established the Sensi Coffeeshop in Rotterdam as one of the
first public cannabis outlets, then starting in 1985 built Sensi Seeds
as a major developer and distributor of top-grade marijuana seeds for
the burgeoning growing industry in Holland. He opened Sensi Seed Bank in
Amsterdam and founded the Hash Marihuana and Hemp Museum next door as a
means of educating the public about the wonders of hemp and its
products, both smokable and industrial.

In 1993, Ben began his intensive venture into hemp production and
product development with a company called HempFlex. He developed and
manufactured specialized hemp harvesting machinery and started growing
hemp in a big way — now covering about 6,000 acres — to supply hemp
fiber to major manufacturers such as BMW, market hemp products like
HempFlax animal bedding, and harness oils and other agricultural
products.

Dronkers started the industrial hemp revolution in the Netherlands, and
geared his entire operation from growing to distribution toward maximum
ecological and social benefit. At the same time, he's continued to grow
the Sensi Seed Bank as one of the primary sources of first-quality seeds
for growers all over the world.

I met Ben on my first visit to Amsterdam when I was honored as the High
Priest of the Cannabis Cup in 1998. In fact, I smoked my first joint in
a coffeeshop at the Sensi outlet in Rotterdam on my initial visit to
Holland earlier that year, and in the early 2000s spent a lot of time
hanging out with all the characters at the late, lamented Sensi Museum
Coffeeshop on the Damstraat.

The more I learned about Ben Dronkers, the more I liked him. He created
important pioneering businesses based on his principles and his love for
cannabis, helped open up a vast new industry for cannabis entrepreneurs,
and made a lot of money himself. At the same time, he paid close
attention to the civic component and devoted considerable resources to
furthering the cause of cultivation, hemp production and the mental
health of the marijuana smoking population through the establishment of
the Hash Marihuana and Hemp Museum.

The museum has grown into a significant institution and has recently
taken on the support and administration of the Cannabis College, a
storefront academy next door to the museum that boasts Holland's only
legal cannabis growing operation in its basement.

The Sensi empire is well-integrated and arrayed along the Achterburgwal,
ranging from the Sensi Seed Shop (formerly the Museum Coffeeshop) at the
Damstraat corner and, going up the canal, the Sensi Seed Bank, the
museum, and the Cannabis College. Across the canal, they're also
currently ensconced in the Flying Dutchman building, following the
retirement of its former owner, himself the major patron of the Cannabis
College for most of its existence.

These are my kind of people. Like so many Dutch citizens, they didn't
change with the times when the '70s rolled over into the dreaded Reagan
era and the rising right-wing culture. They remained engaged with the
social process and made serious changes in their social order.

And, in terms of our central concern with this column, they established
the individual's right to smoke marijuana, in sickness and in health, in
one's home or at the coffeeshop of one's choosing, and the ancillary
right to purchase, over the counter, enough marijuana or hashish to get
high on and stay high on as long as one may like.

For 80 percent of the Dutch population, this means nothing, but for the
20 percent here who are smokers, it's the next thing to living in a
world of one's own design. Not only does this system take perfect care
of the toker, but it provides work opportunities in the cannabis
industry for thousands of adults of all ages, from growers and
harvesters and distributors to coffeeshop employees, trimmers, tenders,
professional joint rollers and bicycle stash delivery persons.

And that's before you get to the hemp industry pioneered by Ben Dronkers
and his people. It's big business now, generating employment and income
and tax revenues on a large scale by producing hemp fibers for industry
and hemp products for the marketplace. Yet it retains a strong sense of
social responsibility and dedicates significant proceeds to educational
and public information activities — like placing ads for the Hemp Museum
and its teachings on the electronic informational devices adorning the
public transportation.

Over the years, I've spent quite a bit of time with Ben Dronkers and his
sons Alan and Ravi, and now I'm a guest in the apartment above the
museum they keep for visiting dignitaries. Through Ravi I met my current
partners in crime, Sidney Daniels and Joeri Pfeiffer, who sponsor and
maintain my websites, created and registered with the state the John
Sinclair Foundation to support my projects, developed a brand of John
Sinclair seeds to create revenue for the foundation, and underwrite and
support my Radio Free Amsterdam Internet radio project, which is also
manifested in the Motor City by means of Detroit Life Radio
(detroitlife313.com).

Sidney went to work with his friend Ravi Dronkers in the Sensi Seeds
operation in 1996, and teamed up with Joeri after opening up a stand
called the Hempshopper to vend hemp products in the Nieuwmarkt. Over the
years, they opened two Hempshoppers in the Centruum and developed a
close relationship with a hemp products manufacturer and distributor in
Germany as a major customer. Recently, they assumed ownership of his
company, Hemperium, and are developing a line of hemp consumer products
from lollipops and essential oils to clothing items.

Not only do I benefit from their enterprise and social commitment, but
it's rewarding to see a new generation of citizens in their 20s and 30s
take the up old-school principles that have guided me for so long and
made Holland such a distinctive place in the 21st century.

In light of Mayor Dave Bing's recent call for new ideas to revitalize
business and employment in the D, it would make perfect sense for the
city of Detroit to take the next step forward and commit to the
municipal growing of hemp as a potentially massive income source for the
city, using its vast acreage of vacant land, abandoned factories,
schools and police stations to grow marijuana for distribution and sale
to the medical marijuana community of patients, caregivers and —
potentially — dispensaries.

I'll take up this topic later, but Larry Gabriel really rang my bell
when he quoted former state Rep. LaMar Lemmons Jr. saying, "Hemp farming
can create thousands of jobs ... [and] with the large amount of vacant
land in Detroit, we could do some of the agriculture right here." Amen,
brother, amen.

—Amsterdam, Feb. 10-11, 2011

--
http://m.metrotimes.com/mmj/das-hemp-kapital-1.1105422
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Article "Goa: Uniquely Indian - Arab News"

Uniquely Indian - Arab News

An amalgam of spices, women in colorful saris, busy streets with a
hundred rickshaws and a thousand passersby, heavily decorated temple
towers and an exuberant frankincense smell filling the air. This is most
probably the picture our minds conjure whenever India is mentioned.
However, the Indian Subcontinent is huge, and each part of it offers a
unique and peculiar travel experience. Goa is no different.

Looking back at history, most of India suffered an extended period of
British colonization, but not Goa. The small western state, overlooking
the Arabian Sea, was a Portuguese colony. Soon after Vasco da Gama
rounded the Cape of Good Hope in 1498 and discovered a new maritime
trade route that connects Europe to South Asia, Portuguese interest in
Asia grew considerably. In 1510, another Portuguese by the name of
Afonso de Albuquerque landed in Goa. After a fierce battle with the
local forces led by King Ismail Adel Shah, Albuquerque took control of
the city. Goa’s population had a Hindu majority at the time. Disliking
their rulers, they greeted the Portuguese as their new liberators. Those
feelings didn’t last for long. The Portuguese soon frowned upon the
heathen Hindus and started prosecuting the Goans wholesale. That was the
start of the horrific Goa Inquisition. Similar to the Spanish and
Portuguese ones, the Goa Inquisition prosecuted newly converted
Catholics, often dubbed as New Christians, suspected of practicing their
ancestral religions in secrecy, as well as non-converts who observed
their faith or broke Catholicism prohibitions. The notorious
autos-da-fé, trials of faith, lasted between 1560 and 1812, except for a
brief four-year suspension between 1774 and 1778. It saw thousands of
victims tortured, killed or burned in effigy.

Round the turn of the 17th century, the Dutch started to record their
presence in Indian waters, posing as a direct threat to the Portuguese.
Though the Portuguese managed to keep the Dutch at bay, their power
dwindled. In two centuries time, their occupation suffered another blow
when India gained independence from Great Britain. The Indian calls for
withdrawal fell on deaf Portuguese ears, leaving the patriotic Indians,
who subscribed to Gandhi’s non-violent resistance, no other choice but
to launch Operation Vijay on Dec. 16, 1961. In no more than 36 hours,
the Portuguese forces surrendered unconditionally.

The Portuguese might be long gone, but their legacy lingers on, up till
today. Old Goa, the former state capital, is peppered with churches,
monasteries, and cathedrals all built following colonial Portuguese
architecture. Heading the league is the stunning Basilica of Bom Jesus.
It was built using laterite stone, and contrary to the rest of Goa’s
churches, it comes in without exterior plastering. The Basilica of Bom
Jesus is most famous for being the resting place for St. Francis
Xavier’s incorrupt body. The Spanish born Apostle of the Indies, as he
is better known as, dedicated his life to missionary activities in Goa
and further afield. For long after his death in 1552, St. Francis
Xavier’s body remained intact — something that was deemed a miracle at
the time. Every Dec. 3rd, the Feast of St. Francis Xavier is held, and
once every ten years the saint’s body (now preserved in a glass coffin),
is paraded through the streets. It is the time when devotees from all
over the Roman Catholic realms flock to Old Goa.

My most favorite Old Goa church is the Church of St. Francis of Assisi.
It took off as a small chapel built by eight Franciscan friars back in
1517. However, a series of additions, replacements and rebuilds led to
the grand church you see today. Note the Manueline styled doorway, as
well as the several maritime theme ornaments that adorn the walls.

After you are done visiting Old Goa sites, head to the Church of Our
Lady of the Mount. Located on a hilltop, it offers 360º panoramic views
of Old Goa draped in lush greenery — a perfect postcard-like picture to
send back home.

Not long after independence in 1960s, hippies started frequenting Goa,
and in no time the place turned into a hippies’ wonderland. Thousand of
tourists followed the hippies’ trail, and by the turn of the 21st
century, Goa had become one of the world’s top sun and fun destinations.
Enjoying a lovely sunshine and moderate temperature between October and
April, Goa is on the map of relaxation seekers and partygoers alike.

Where in Goa you want to go depends on what you are looking for. Goa is
divided into two main sections: north and south. North Goa retains much
of its bohemian hippie style with a plethora of simple and budget
accommodations on offer. It comes with an amazingly beautiful long beach
dotted with restaurants and eateries offering spicy Indian delicacies.
This part of Goa is marked with several pedestrian-only dirt roads
peppered with shops and makeshift kiosks selling all type of souvenirs
and knickknacks. One important item to buy while you are here is the
cashew nut — Goan cashew is among the best in the world. If you are big
on jewelry, especially pieces that come with unusual exotic designs,
look up a couple of jewelry shops in North Goa. Speaking of after dark,
the nightlife here is at its best with plenty of venues to go bar
hopping, as well as several nightclubs if you are in the mood for some
hardcore partying.

Heading to the other end of the state, South Goa is completely different
animal. Instead of the vibrant sun and fun mode of the north, the south
is all about relaxation in style. Here, fancy hotels and resorts make up
the accommodation scene with The Zuri White Sands topping the league.
Blending authentic elements with modern ones, the hotel exteriors are
colonial in style while the interiors follow a more modern one, yet with
touches of authenticity that keeps you reminded that you are in
beautiful Goa. All the hotel buildings are no more than two stories
high, which gives the place an overall amicable and relaxing feel to it.
The hotel also hosts a casino on site in case you would like to try out
your luck with a couple of chips. Though there is no real need to leave
the Zuri White Sands, as everything is readily available, there is
frequent transportation to North Goa should you want to sample the other
platter.

Goa has managed to surprise me in a way I didn’t expect. Indeed, the
frankincense smell, the multitude of spices, the crowded streets, and
the colorful saris were all there, but so were the colonial churches of
Old Goa, the sun-and-fun hippies’ playground of the North, as well as
the serene and luxurious South. It is true in every sense that Goa is
uniquely Indian.

How to get there?

Air Arabia flies Goa from Sharjah five times a week.

Where to stay?

If you are heading to North Goa, a wholehearted recommendation would be
Bougainvillea Guest House

Website: www.bougainvilleagoa.com

Tel: +91 9822151969

If you are heading to South Goa, then it is definitely the Zuri White
Sands

Website: www.thezurihotels.com

Tel: +91 832 272 7272

— Mohamed El Hebeishy is the author of Frommer’s Egypt guidebook (second
edition), co-updater of Bradt Sudan guidebook, and photographer and
author of the widely acclaimed coffee table book, “Egypt Rediscovered.”

--
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Article "How the hippies really did help to change our world - NZ Herald"

How the hippies really did help to change our world

Look around New Zealand: modern, multi-cultural, accepting of difference
and nuclear-free. Our No 8 wire mindset has evolved into an
entrepreneurial ability to put our music, film and fashion on the world
stage.

We have come a long way from the Holyoake years of the 50s and 60s, a
time former hippie Chris Hegan describes as grey: "It was
self-righteous, it was stuffy, it was conventional."

New Zealand in the 60s was conformist and repressed, an uptight little
England in the South Pacific.

Into this blandness came the hippies, a rainbow revolution of new ideas.
They started a cultural war that changed New Zealand, but one that also
saw many of the so-called hippies beaten up and arrested. Others became
casualties of their experimentation with drugs or sex.

Despite the fact New Zealand resisted the hippies, most of them
survived, and gradually their social conscience and healthy disrespect
for uptight traditionalism infiltrated almost everywhere. Most of the
hippies may never have become policemen or joined the armed forces but
some did became mayors, MPs, wine-makers, architects, business owners
and creatives.

They may not have stopped the Vietnam War, but subsequent protests did
derail the 1981 Springbok tour, put an end to nuclear ship visits and
force a Government u-turn last year on mining on Coromandel Peninsula
and Hauraki Gulf.

Two years ago, television producer William Grieve came to me with an
idea for a documentary. It was time, he said, to make a film about New
Zealand's hippies.

Initially the film was to be about hippie fashion, music and social
change, full of the "tune in, turn on and drop out" sex and drugs
stories we're used to from North America and England but our stories
paled next to the Summer of Love, Haight Ashbury and Woodstock.

So we were soon drawn to the real revolutionaries, the hippie
back-to-landers, the young idealistic urban intellectuals who rejected
the city, consumerism and the straight life to go back to the land and
start again.

It started with the Vietnam War. Looking for a place to gather to
protest New Zealand's military involvement in 1969, Tim Shadbolt led a
march to take Albert Park back for the people. The Jumping Sundays
began. A weekly hippie gathering, where people came in their thousands
for a collision of politics, music, drugs, dancing and, yes, hippie
fashion.

Sundays in Albert Park were the launching point for protests,
relationships and political revolution. Protest against the Vietnam War
brought students and young people together in unprecedented numbers, and
the explosion of youth culture shocked the nation.

"The reaction of New Zealand towards us was, you had to be a traitor,"
says Shadbolt. "Society may have rejected us as a bunch of dirty,
long-haired unemployed hippies, but we saw ourselves as being part of a
catalyst for change."

When police waded violently into a group protesting the 1970 visit by US
Vice-President Spiro Agnew, it felt like the end of innocence.

John Bower was beaten up and thrown over a fence. He says it was that
"unprovoked attack" that pushed him to take his protests a step further.

He did time for geligniting the Fox St Royal New Zealand Air Force depot
in Parnell.

Bower was an engineering student and never thought himself a hippie, but
his social conscience had him form a prisoners' union at Paremoremo.

We interviewed him for the documentary, and one of my biggest
disappointments was we didn't have room for his story. As he and I
walked up Fox St looking for his bomb target from 40 years ago, I was
struck by his quiet thoughtfulness and bemusement, as a businessman
today, that he was driven to such extremes by the times.

"It was the nearest military establishment to us. So we were hitting
back," he says.

"My rationale, they're dropping bombs in Vietnam, you can have one here
yourself ... I suppose I went a bit further than most but in hindsight
it's probably because as kids we had no parental control, so there were
no boundaries.

"I've got a bit wiser in my old age. Blowing things up doesn't work.
You've got to win people's minds, don't you?"

The world moved on from Vietnam, and the hippie revolution took hold of
the general population, becoming merely fashion.

Meanwhile, the real revolutionaries became disillusioned with city life.
Communities sprouted up across New Zealand as hippies swarmed to the
cheap land of isolated rural areas.

In the Coromandel, Moehau Community's Chris Hegan remembers it was a
quite a shock for the locals. "All these naked hippies turned up and
started buying little bits of land and contaminating their environment."

As for myself, I was astonished by the inventive beauty of the hippie
architecture. Some of the houses, pulled together from hand-milled
timber and demolition materials were absolutely mad, others were
sensibly warm and cozy, with steep-pitched roofing and attic bedrooms
echoing our early pioneer cottages.

It's a wonderful image, the long-haired university drop-out turning up
with modern ideas and expecting to get on with the farmer next door.
They were urban kids, and had to learn to build houses and geodesic
domes, to milk, make fences, keep bees and butcher sheep - often from
books.

To meet the "how-to" demand, Alister Taylor published the New Zealand
Whole Earth catalogues.

During the shoot, we found one in an abandoned community kitchen. Five
years after everyone left, it was still open on the table.

AS A TEENAGER, Olive Jones left Tauranga and hitched to Nelson to join
an urban commune. She and a group of friends raised the money to buy
their own land near Motueka. They set up the anarchist community Graham
Downs and stepped back into the 19th century, ploughing by horse, using
rollers, tine harrows and seed drills. The idea was to tread lightly on
the land and, for a while, it worked.

"When it came together it was the most wonderful thing," remembers
Jones. "It was incredibly hard physical work, but there was something
intensely satisfying about it. Everything came from the land."

Jones skinned a horse at 18 and built her own house while she was
pregnant.

Graham Downs is still there, but fruit and nuts fall to rot on the
ground, and the old horse gear is slowly rusting away beneath weeds and
kikuyu.

Jones left with a broken heart. The founders of the "open community"
were trapped by the inclusiveness of their mission statement. They found
themselves expected to provide for a growing community more interested
in drugs and drinking than in the vision of living on the land.

Some of these communities still function. Some have become weekend and
holiday homes for their now-professional shareholders.

Moehau, in Coromandel, has 50 shareholders, and though they can get
through an AGM without a punch-up, future planning is almost impossible.

In Golden Bay, writer Gerard Hindmarsh reckons the small population
swelled by up to 400 as he and others headed over the Takaka Hill.

All he could afford was a small piece of scrub-covered swamp. In the
early days Gerald hid his marijuana there. He tells of being pursued
through the wetland by the police, "a naked raving hippie" racing to
hide his plants.

When he bought the land, the thing to do was bulldoze swamp. But
Hindmarsh liked it. He protected it and built a boardwalk. Today, as we
realise the importance of wetlands, he allows the public to enjoy the
one he saved.

And what of New Zealand's most famous commune, James K Baxter's
Jerusalem on the Whanganui River?

Rhys Green paints a bleak picture of outcasts dossing down on unsanitary
shared mattresses and waking up to people taking photos of "the
hippies".

For Green, it was a bittersweet time where the close community struggled
with drugs and the attention of the outside world. He claims their
back-to-the-land image was manufactured by the media. He showed me a
Weekly News photo spread, with a picture of a bunch of them posing in a
weed-filled vege patch.

"That was probably the only time we were seen in the garden," he says.
"It was overgrown and here we are with hoes and things."

This hippie revolution was born out of the idealism of my parents'
generation. I grew up around that environmentalism and social concern.
Forty years on, the good hippie ideas, the living locally, keeping bees,
alternative energy, saving whales and even the farmers' markets have
come of age.

The best of the hippie generation, like the best of the Kiwi pioneers,
and the best of the uptight straight world of the hippies' 1960s
parents, has formed who we are.
Dirty Bloody Hippies premieres next Sunday in Auckland as part of the
Documentary Edge Festival 2011.It opens in Wellington on March 11.

--
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Article "'Oz' film no great shakes | smh.com.au"

'Oz' film no great shakes

'Oz' film no great shakes

Garry Maddox and Steve Meacham February 14, 2011

IT SOUNDED like a promising idea for a film - the rebellious lives of
the Australian hippie intelligentsia as they took on swinging London in
the 1960s.

Based on a memoir by Richard Neville, Hippie Hippie Shake featured a
who's who of the counterculture including Germaine Greer, Jenny Kee and
artists Martin Sharp and Jim Anderson. It centred on the launch of the
London edition of the radical magazine Oz and the trial for distributing
a sexually explicit issue.

Interest in the film increased when Greer lashed the writers for
fashioning her likeness ''out of their own excreta''. But there was
always going to be anticipation for a £20 million ($A32 million) film
from the director of Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, Beeban Kidron,
and her husband, Lee Hall, who wrote Billy Elliot.

But three years after the film was shot in England, with Cillian Murphy
playing Neville, Sienna Miller as his girlfriend Louise Ferrier, and
Emma Booth as Greer, rumours that Hippie Hippie Shake has turned out
dismally have proven accurate.

After a promised release failed to eventuate last year, the British
production company Working Title has now confirmed - without explanation
- that Hippie Hippie Shake will not reach cinemas at all.

Said Neville: ''We saw the first cut of the film - Jim, I and other Oz
people - and there was a lot of disappointment among us.''

Anderson said the central problem with Hippie Hippie Shake was the
portrayal of Neville. ''They ruined it by turning Richard into a
reconstructed heterosexual male. Back then he was certainly
unreconstructed - as we all were.''

--
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Article "Timeless message, or wistful nostalgia=?UTF-8?B?PyB8IFN0YXJUcg==?=ibune.com"

Timeless message, or wistful nostalgia?

In the summer before its 1971 Broadway debut, "Jesus Christ Superstar"
already was a phenomenon. A banner headline in the Minneapolis Star on
July 14 reported that 3,000 people had jammed two ragtag concert
productions of the rock opera at local churches. With barely a word of
advance publicity, performances were selling out. Audiences considered
"Superstar" a perfect distillation of the cultural and religious
zeitgeist.

"Superstar" roared across the country, assaulting both religious and
theatrical convention. The Broadway event received mixed reviews, but
the show played for two years.

Two key elements fueled the popularity. "Superstar" was the first
Broadway musical to start as a rock 'n' roll concept album. Andrew Lloyd
Webber and Tim Rice had written the single "Superstar" and released it
in 1969, with vocalist Murray Head. They then expanded this single idea
to a full album, which they called a rock opera. The Who had already
released "Tommy," but that didn't make it to Broadway until 1993.

More significantly, Lloyd Webber and Rice ignited debates among
religionists appalled by what they considered Jesus' diminished
divinity. He was a rebel, he kissed a girl, he yelled, he doubted and he
encouraged his followers to love one another. In this respect,
"Superstar" tapped into a specific moment in U.S. history.

"Superstar's popularity is a symptom and partial result of the current
wave of spiritual fervor among the young known as the Jesus Revolution,"
wrote Time magazine in 1971.

Forty years later, the counterculture continues to sell off scrap pieces
of itself for advertising jingles; the Jesus Revolution has melted into
the mainstream markets of WWJD merchandise and Christian Rock. And
"Jesus Christ Superstar," once a cultural bellwether, is opening a
six-month run at Chanhassen Dinner Theatres. Ben Bakken plays Jesus and
Jared Oxborough portrays Judas, the show's other star.

Some critics dismiss "Superstar" as hopelessly dated, but Michelle
Carter, who plays Mary Magdalene in Chanhassen's production, feels it
still has life.

"The more you examine it," she said, "this is a timeless story."

Jesus, the outsider

"There is no historical task which so reveals a man's true self as the
writing of a Life of Jesus," wrote Albert Schweitzer in his seminal 1906
book, "The Quest of the Historical Jesus."

This was the modest task that Lloyd Webber and Rice set for themselves
when they cobbled together a few songs and proposed a new vision of
Jesus.

In this age of snark, it is difficult to imagine how radical their idea
was. After all, cartoon Jesus has a public-access show and occasionally
spars with Santa and Satan on "South Park," and in Martin Scorsese's
"Last Temptation of Christ," he fought sexual urges.

Entertainments before "Superstar" tended to depict Jesus as a monotone
God disguised as a man. Reviewing "The Greatest Story Ever Told," one
critic said the problem with God's only son was that he was boring.
American Christianity always had emphasized the divinity at the expense
of the humanity.

Lloyd Webber and Rice offered an outsider's critique on those
conventions.

"It told the Christian story in a Christian nation from the location of
the counterculture, which is a more legitimate way to read the gospels,"
said Andrew Root, a Luther Seminary professor who studies pop culture.
"Jesus was not part of the establishment, and that is a pretty powerful
thing."

Andrew Cooke, musical director for Chanhassen's production, reacted
similarly to a touring production when he was in seventh grade.

"Here were these characters you read about in Sunday school, and they
were just guys, fallible humans," he said.

Director Michael Brindisi is trying to keep alive some of that
counterculture vibe in how he approaches the work. Before rehearsal, the
cast sits in a circle and one actor reveals something about him or
herself.

"I think this play is about learning," Brindisi said. "Jesus was the
great teacher, and we have the ability to be like him and teach each
other."

Carter worked for Brindisi in a 2004 production of "Hair," something of
a Broadway soulmate with "Superstar." While the cast did similar
"sharing moments" during "Hair" rehearsals, Carter does not consider
"Superstar" a "hippie musical at all."

Is it merely nostalgia?

Chanhassen audiences must consider whether the timeless story within
"Jesus Christ Superstar" can escape its time.

"It becomes passé if all it does is evoke nostalgia," said Root. "If it
can evoke the prophetic, then it lives on, and I do think there is
something about the humanity of Christ in it that is incredibly
prophetic."

Unlike other attempts to humanize Jesus -- such as the theological
movement known as the Jesus Seminar -- "Superstar" does not destroy the
possibility of transcendence. Mary Magdalene's plaintive song "I Don't
Know How to Love Him" was a lightning rod of criticism for its lyric,
"He's a man; he's just a man." Carter, though, says that those words --
early in the song -- express Mary's emotional confusion.

"By the end of the song, she's gone through a journey and sees him as
something more," she said.

That particular number rocked the charts back when show tunes got radio
play. Its popularity testified to Lloyd Webber's ability to write a tune
-- some would say a derivative and simple tune, but a tune that hangs in
the head. The late Star Tribune critic Mike Steele put it well in a 1993
essay:

"Lloyd Webber is the outlet for the emotional desires of modern
audiences, for the romance and optimism and deep feeling that, for most
of its history, has been the meat and potatoes of musical theater."

Brindisi, once a snob about Lloyd Webber's pastiche style, has
converted. In recent years, he's produced "Cats" and "Joseph and the
Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" at Chanhassen. "Superstar," he feels, is
his favorite.

Root's question, though, remains the signal challenge for Chanhassen's
production: Can "Superstar" escape its "I Love the '70s" moment and
touch people with an ancient message of love, sacrifice, fate, destiny
and self-exploration?

Tamara Kangas Erickson, Chanhassen's choreographer, feels the answer is
yes. In fact, she seemed mildly irritated that the conversation centered
on whether the musical could refind the fizz of 1971.

"I was barely born then," she said. "I didn't discover 'Superstar' until
I was in high school in 1987. This play is not a relic."

Graydon Royce • 612-673-7299

--
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Article "Magical, mysterious tour of San Francisco in the '60s - San Jose Mercury News"

Magical, mysterious tour of San Francisco in the '60s

Some say that if you remember the 1960s, you weren’t there. Maybe, maybe
not. But if you’d like to refresh your memory, the new Magic Bus tour in
San Francisco makes it quite painless. Even younger people who just want
to soak up some of the flavor and history — yes, it’s history now — will
enjoy it.

The colorfully painted converted bus pulls up across the street from
Macy’s in Union Square every Saturday, blowing bubbles from its
automated machine, and dispensing happy people with daisies in their
hair. The Antenna Theatre company that produces it combines multimedia
with a traditional city tour that takes visitors back in time to San
Francisco’s iconic role in the decade.

As we wait in little huddles to board, smiling and giving the two-finger
peace sign for pictures, it doesn’t take long to get back in the ’60s
groove. It seems appropriate that gazing down on us from an iTunes
billboard are The Beatles in their black-and-white prime. Later, on the
bus, they will be described as “mop heads” and “the guys who gave people
the idea they could go out and change the world.”

After checking in with the darling hippie chick gatekeeper, actress
Rebecca Tarnas, we get on the bus, pushing through the black curtains
that cue you that the interior is also a theater. Seats are arranged
back-to-back down the center, so everyone is looking out a window.

Once the bus starts up and the screens/shades drop and the soundtrack
starts, it feels like

a flashback. The soundtrack promises that “this trip is about the dream
of the ’60s, the things that should have been.” Screens drop down to
project images such as the legendary psychedelic blobs of that era (3-D
glasses are provided, although most people forget to use them) along
with newsreels of historical events. Then they are pulled back up so you
can see the current reality outside. Sometimes the screens stay half-up
and half-down, just to mix you up a bit — the show and the bus go on.

The Magic Bus travels through Chinatown, representing the great
awakening to and powerful influences of the East. It gets caught in
traffic here, like we locals usually do, but the show is cleverly
thought out so that something is always entertaining us.

As the bus travels into North Beach, stories of the beatniks begin and
shades open to reveal City Lights Books and Vesuvio Cafe. Then we travel
through time and space to the epicenter of it all — the Haight-Ashbury
district. A basket of wrapped mints (stand-ins for acid) is passed
around. With colorful blobs throbbing on the shades (or did I just
imagine that?) and incense in the air, things just get trippier.

Then the shades open to the famous Jefferson Airplane Victorian house
accompanied by the strains of “White Rabbit.” Oh yeah! Let’s crank it
up!

Then it’s off to green, green Golden Gate Park, where we remember the
1967 Summer of Love Human Be-In with documentaries. As we drive past the
Conservatory of Flowers, we’re told it is the “generator of all flower
power for the city of San Francisco.” According to Chris Hardman,
creative director and creator of the tour, “No other tour company knows
this metaphorical fact.”

We leave the Summer of Love and enter the Winter of Discontent at City
Hall, remembering a long list of assassinations — John F. Kennedy,
Martin Luther King, Mayor George Moscone and Harvey Milk — a sad but
significant part of the story.

My favorite part is when people on the street notice the bus pass and
take the time to wave and smile, sometimes even flashing the peace sign.
That takes me back. That and the reminder from the soundtrack (from
where or who?) about Alan Ginsberg saying we are all “beautiful golden
sunflowers inside.”

All too soon, we are getting off the bus, trying to figure out what to
do about dinner as our daisies begin to wilt.

If you go

The Magic Bus tour departs at 1, 3, and 5 p.m. Saturdays. $40 general,
$30 seniors 65 and older and students to age 26 with card. Recommended
for children 7 and older. Reservations advised. www.magicbussf.com.
800-838-3006, 415-332-8867,

Where to eat: The Cheesecake Factory — 251 Geary St., 8th floor, in
Macy’s, 415-391-4444, www.thecheesecakefactory.com. No reservations and
you can expect a wait at this popular but reasonably price chain.
Katana-Ya — 430 Geary St., 415-771-1280. No reservations. This teeny
venue serves huge bowls of noodles. Scala’s Bistro — 432 Powell St., in
Sir Francis Drake Hotel, 415-395-8555, www.scalasbistro.com.
Reservations essential. Delicious rustic Italian dishes.

--
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