You Can't Go Home

Things between my host and myself had gotten a little too serious, a little too soon and after that one gig with Larry, I thought it would be best if I retreated back to the West Coast. I decided to land back in San Diego, once more.

I was able to rent a little house next to my Mom and step father. I was collecting unemployment for the time being. This picture was taken during that visit. My mom was a nurse at a local hospital and had seen so many drug related cases, that she could not see how I could smoke dope and take LSD.

We would talk for hours, but she was unable to convince me that I was in any danger.

During that period I had lots of time on my hands. I picked up a copy of the "Red Letter" Bible, where all of Jesus' words were highlighted in red. I read them all.

After that, I couldn't see how any country could wage war, or how church goers could commit the crimes that they did. So I set off to find some answers. We had always gone to the First Presbyterian Church in downtown San Diego, so I headed there.

I went into the office and told them that I would like to speak to someone about the Bible. I think they were a little put off, having a hippy come into the church. Well, they hemmed and hawed and then said for me to wait in the church, until the youth pastor arrived.

When he arrived some time later, we talked. I expressed my concerns that I had gone off to war, without giving much thought to heeding Jesus' words. It turns out that he was a Navy pilot, on active duty. He never did answer how a Christian could conscientiously go to war, but he did invite me to a youth activities night. OK, so I went.

It was held in a very nice house with a pool, in a very nice part of the city. He had given me a ride. The evening went like this. We spent about 15 minutes discussing how we could give a witness about our relationship with God. It turns out that living a good life, being happy and friendly seemed to be the approved method.

After that, we had cake and sodas and swam. When it was over, and he was driving me back home, he asked if I had learned anything. Well, it seems that I had learned that this brand of Christianity wasn't much different from people living good lives and enjoying themselves. So in my mind I kind of crossed out Christianity as having any valid answers about life.

After a few months, I decided to return to Hollywood, where I would begin new adventures. I hitchiked up the coast and decided to spring a visit on my father, who was building homes in Carmel by the Sea. I got off the highway and made a call from a local burger joint. He drove up shortly, with his new wife Margaret, a red haired school teacher. We talked over sodas. He asked me what I had been doing after being discharged from the Air Force and I told him in detail, not leaving anything out. I guess I want to "blow his mind". Well, I did. We ended rather abruptly, with no invitation to stay overnight, so I just jumped back on the freeway and hitched my ride back to Hollywood.

Years later, when I got back into a good relation with my father, he told me that after he calmed down, he went back to find me, realizing that what I did with my life was my decision. But it was too late, as I had already gone, and left no forwarding address.

Such is life....