Dear Folks, Something popped into my head this evening. It had to do with hippies. All of a sudden I remembered a story I had written back in 2001 about Mother and hippies and I realized I hadn't printed it out for myself. I searched our archives and by George I actually was able to retrieve it. I know I posted it to the list before, but I thought you'd like to read it again. Note: I think it's really cool! vee Mother and Hippies September 17, 2001 By 1970 in Oakland, California, I was the proud owner of a small house on Grande Vista Avenue there and by then I was well aware that the small cul de sac neighborhood of about a block long had a very fascinating population. I was a white single woman, my next door neighbor on one side was a gay black man, my neighbors on the other side were a black couple who I grew to love dearly, there were oriental families on the short block who entertained us with fireworks on New Year's Eve and then there was the magnificent old Victorian mansion that was across the street from me. It was obvious to me that the old house was in need of repair and had been empty for some time but I was pleased when I saw evidence of people moving into it. However, it wasn't long before that I realized that there were a number of people moving into it. Shortly after that, I noticed several of the residents there walking around outside as if in prayerful thought. Now we're talking about 1970 here and from the way they were dressed and from my view of the situation, what I'm talking about was a bunch of peaceful hippies who had moved into the house across the street from me. My mother was living with me briefly at the time and there Mother and I were living across the street from hippies. One day we found a flyer in our mailbox that announced they were having an open house across the street and we were invited. Not knowing what to expect, Mother and I talked it over and decided to attend, out of curiosity. We were impressed with the effort they were making to renovate the old house but this is what I remember most about our visit there. First it was when Mother and I were in the kitchen and watching a girl prepare a potato salad. I can still hear Mother telling her that Hellman's mayonnaise is the only one to use! Oh well, Mother couldn't help being a mother! But more importantly, later Mother and I were persuaded to join in with their group to sit down cross-legged on the bare wooden living room floor across from each other and share our feelings with each other. Both Mother and I held hands with the persons across from each of us and I was surprised that Mother really opened up to the young person holding hands with her on the floor across from her. Mother was 66 years old at the time. Oh, dear, I'm still amazed that in spite of my mother being straight-laced and with her hard-bound beliefs, she was still absolutely open minded enough to venture forth into the realm of "Hippidom" in 1970, sit down on a hard floor and talk very openly with the young hippie across from her. To join in with me in such an experience still boggles my mind. Yes, she preached the Hellman's mayonnaise sermon to the girl who was making the potato salad, but I still remember how comfortable she was when she was asked to sit down on the floor, hold hands with a stranger and talk to him. Isn't it wonderful what we can recall about our mothers long after they're gone? Mother died in 1974.