Local Author Spotlight: JOHN HENSEL

TALES OF A SUBURBAN GYPSY
A Story of Finding LOVE
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
1. The JOURNEY Begins
2. LIFE IN THE EYE
3. JEANNE and the Tug-of-War with a Rhino
4. STORIES
5. The LITTLE TRAIN that Could
This book is dedicated to all the People (angels) who took the time to help me along my PATH.
Thanks for your Faith in me and the Laughs we had along the way.
From: Notes to my Son
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BOOK 1
A TIMELINE TOWARDS DESTINY!
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SURVIVING is easy...
It’s LIVING that’s Hard!
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ONE
THE JOURNEY BEGINS
I hope stories from the past are important.
When you live a life, you never think you will have the time or the
motivation to go back and reflect.
After all who cares? Well, for one—I care!
The stories. The travels and journeys through life are important.
MY LIFE IS IMPORTANT…YOUR LIFE IS IMPORTANT.
All of us are shaped through the experiences and lessons.…
Do we Love or do we Hate?
Do we Bend or do we Break?
Every lesson leads us into the next.
That is part of the Journey and part of the fabric that makes us Sing or Cry!
By now my tears are dried up!
If you see the choir please tell them to start singing…I’ll be right over!
2007
A CHRISTMAS PROMISE
To DANIEL…
You are a heck of a kid!
I love you!
The people who come into your life see your “spark” and the love you
offer the world!
How could they miss it?
Try not to second-guess what has happened over time and look back and
say, “What a Shame!”
You can never blame our family or friends who are near and far.
Just savor the good and learn from the Bad!
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It’s life.
Your life.
Your choices.
Your voice.
Your will.
Put all of the energy you have into each day—no matter what they say.
I went the distance for your Mom and stayed with her till the last breath and beyond.
When a person you LOVE leaves forever it changes you and makes you second-
guess everything you do in your Life and the choices you made along the way...
the smart ones, the stupid ones, and the ones that were never made.
It seems like it’s been forever for me to not have guilt—to find Peace and to be on a path towards a future called Progress. For it didn’t hit me or even sink in when the mortician said she wasn’t coming back to us.
Looking down at her I tried my best to say good-bye!
I honestly thought she’d get up and give me a big hug and tell me it’s ok—
—still loving her now—Forever and a day!
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You know it’s best. You know it’s true. She’s better where she is and you can’t feel blue.
Her innocence and beauty was swallowed up by the world and as we sat there crying and staring into space I promised with my heart I would raise you and keep you safe.
Whether you soar like an eagle or fall and hit the ground I’ll be there for you....
I’ll never let you down.
So be good to yourself and keep the beauty inside. Your natural-born gifts draw people to your side and into your heart.
You were born with “IT” on Christmas Eve at 12:24 a.m. and inherited an entire background of love and wisdom that has been passed on generation after generation.
A family of humble people, inspiring people, and people you have never known or had the opportunity to meet. They are with you and will ALWAYS be with you.
The love they shared with me shined through their eyes and touches both of our souls forevermore.
A connection that is more than blood!
But the real gift I have for you, son, IS THE MOST IMPORTANT.
A love that could light up the sky—withstanding time and all the tests that this life has to offer.
Combine this love with wisdom, compassion, and balance it with your heart.
When you “Learn the Game of Life” let it meet you on your terms.
That is when you begin to “Master” your destiny and all that you do!
Try to never forget where you came from or who your friends are now.
Embrace who you are and take it to great heights—in time you will be the one on Top –
For Everything in Life is about timing and by being prepared when the timing is Right!
I hope that one day, Son, you will know how blessed you truly are!
DAD
FIND THE PLACE
DEEP INSIDE
A PLACE THAT IS ALWAYS THERE
A PLACE THAT KEEPS YOU FROM HARM
AND LETS THE CHILD WITHIN COME OUT AND PLAY…
THE BEGINNING
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“DASHING THROUGH THE SNOW…”
We used to just run around in Ewing, N.J., and laugh. Go to friends’ houses, parties, driving, whatever!
At 17, it didn’t really matter what we did as it was just great to be alive!
One night we were running and drinking. More high from life than booze somehow
ending up in a cemetery next to the tombstones.
Young and afraid of nothing we ran with the wind and teased it to catch us.
Running out of a maze of headstones I caught a glimpse of a thin chain near the road and jumped it. My best friend, Paul, who was seconds behind didn’t hear my shout in all the excitement and hit the wire at full speed knocking him down hard on the cement entrance.
For a moment he was still and I thought the worst. Then he started to laugh cursing in the same breath, which made me laugh, and we laughed some more wondering how we ended up in a cemetery in the first place.
We howled at the moon for a little bit longer then went back to our little homes still high from the night.
This how you run when you are young and free…with no real rules to hold you down!
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I COME FROM A WORLD
A world that is not to far from yours
A world that is optimistic
Fearless
And doesn’t judge you for who you are
BUT embraces your individuality
Which
Enhances your strength
So YOU can do better in the world
And help the next person in line
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“ON A ONE-HORSE OPEN SLEIGH…”
The 60’s and 70’s went by fast. There was so much going on we rode it like a wave until it crashed at our feet and somehow fell into the 80’s. You can’t forget those special times of being there and living through it! We traveled our world enjoying each day to the fullest.
On the street corners, concerts, clubs and discothèques.
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In the mid-70’s, after-hours clubs became very popular prior to the first discos, but you had to know where they were and how to find them.…
I befriended the group Mandrill from the many concerts we did together in Miami and New York… one night after jamming in their loft near the Village the group with me in tow head off to a private spot deep into the bowels of the city. A place I am sure no white man had been to before.
When we knocked, a secret answer was given and as we entered an all-night process was in full swing. Dancing, live music, and the beat of life as you have never experienced or dreamed of took place in front us.
Was I the only white man enjoying the all-night sounds and listening to fantastic music or was I in a movie of some kind?
It didn’t matter for life took on a new and special meaning that night…(I think I left with a long- legged model hours later as the sun came up over the city).
A few months later the first disco and legitimate after-hours clubs began allowing people of all ages to enjoy life to the fullest.
Was I the first in line? Probably not, but I am sure I was the second or third taking advantage of every second of it.…
Who wouldn’t?
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The world at this time took on a quality all its own.
We held a unique link with each other and lived within a community called LIFE.
This bond and connection got us to know our neighbors. One by one. In thick or thin, most of us enjoyed who we were and what we were doing.
I know I did!
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During this time my friends and I enjoyed many adventures together traveling and exploring the East Coast as it awoke into a new era.
If the ’50s were the dark ages, then this new time of the ’60s was “living color.”
It was like coming out of a dark cave and finding Light. A light that woke up the world and an era that was very much a part of me and who I am today.
Studying history and looking back through time it reminded me of another revolution that began in Europe when the dawn of the Impressionists brought color and vibrancy through art and started a major change in the world.
Everyone’s life began shining like a rainbow after a storm.
We were alive with the color of Life and as it touched our bodies and captured our souls we went out and looked for more.
Living It.
Breathing It.
Touching It.
Each day was better than the last and so much Fun we never thought it would end.
The ’80s kept alive the promise of the ’60s and brought with it great potential.
People still fresh from the recent revolution of the ’60s and 70's started exercising their 'rights’ as individuals' by flexing their minds and opening them to new ideas stretching the limits of all possibilities.
We also began helping friends or strangers and thought often about of 'the other person' on the street.
The ones who had trouble going out. Taking them to the store. Helping them with their groceries or mowing their lawn without compensation. This is how I was raised in Ewing.
Your troubles and problems can wait. There was always someone worse off that needed help...
Selfishness was not allowed in our neighborhood.
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While the ’90s brought back order and stability to our country a lot of us settled down to have families but soon many forgot the promise they made a decade earlier, which was to make this planet a better place.
Over time they became complacent, materialistic and caught up in their way of life which drew them inward.
Many people forgot about their fellow man. Instead of sharing the love that we had fought so hard for years earlier stopped bonding went into their rooms and started a new revolution called The Computer.
The age we live in today is a time without clear direction or leadership and people are striving to be more individualist then ever before.
Many shut out humanity and the world around them. A clear focus of commitment seems to be missing. This seems to not only affect the day- to- day life but also the future and HOW the children in our world will view the issues and relate to people when they are older!
Words of wisdom from long ago ring true to this day, as JFK once said,
“Divided there is little we can do.... Together there is little we cannot do.”
Working together brings unlimited results and broadens all possibilities.
The greed and selfishness, which has reared its ugly head today, has no place in a world of accomplishment.
Families are breaking up at a rate exceeding 50 percent per household!
Living one day at a time and hard work through communication is a recipe that can develop a relationship into something positive and very worthwhile.
Once you take a positive STEP in that direction you can’t look back or second-guess.
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THE PATH I was on...
The people and the places I embraced since ’69 kept me in a constant whirlwind
including Miami, New York, California, and many states in-between.
I ran from myself with a restless energy. My Journey was like an itch that I had to keep scratching.
For NONE of it not the women—the money—the projects or the places were ever enough.
I always wanted to know what was behind the next door, the next adventure or romance.
Life was like this well into my 30’s until San Diego appeared. Life at the beach gave me a moment in time to relax and catch my breath.
1981 found me one block from the Pacific Ocean in a sleepy little beach town north of Tijuana and San Diego called Ocean Beach.
There were a lot of friends there…new ones and old ones and many of the crazies I grew up with in Ewing.
Buddies who enjoyed life to the fullest!
In the early ’80s, I found and breathed in fresh air that cleared my head from the insanity of Los Angeles, which included excess on all levels…drugs, delusional people, greed, and many endless days and nights leading nowhere.
Ocean Beach was more of the same, BUT at least I could be with friends—another word for TRUST.
Something you can never BUY or take for granted!
People like Bob S., Jimmy G., Ralph L., Barney, Barbara, Tommy (Two-Tone), and a cast of characters and visitors from the East Coast that I had not seen in years.
Desperate to leave L.A., Wendy and I moved south to San Diego on a whim.
My L.A. bosses and partners would spend every dime we made in business on long nights, limousines, and coke whores. The people that surrounded us and my decisions up to then weren’t always the greatest.
The music industry and now the comedy circuit that I helped to promote in Encino with my old friend, Mark (from Seals & Crofts), brought with it many of the same characters and wannabes.
Most of my L.A. acquaintances were good honest people, but they were lost in a world that was somewhere caught between self-indulgence, fantasy, and reality.
Moving to San Diego was not the brightest idea I had for there was no job—no guarantees, but my soul yearned for a cleansing, and with the little money I had saved I went anyway and landed there with only one thing—HOPE… and a desire to feel alive again.
A burning desire—for I felt like a beached whale that would do anything to find water and freedom…once again!
It turned out to be a one of my better decisions!
Regardless of what your past decisions have brought you, you begin to realize there is only one way to live and that is to push yourself forward and to know that things will turn out OK.
Within two weeks and after countless job interviews I landed one of my better jobs and became part of the sales department for a company based out of L.A. — Jack LaLane Health Spas.
My area—San Diego County. (Did I mention my boss was ninety miles away?)
As long as I had results I was left alone. So I got the results, worked unique hours, and hung out at the “beach.”
Life was finally good again. Very good!
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In ’83 and somewhere in-between, fun with my friends from Ewing, trips to Tiajuana, Padre games during the week, tennis in the morning, girls in the afternoons, volunteer work and a “beach” lifestyle, my soul caught up with me and the spirit inside started aching and became sad (or maybe it was the constant hangovers).
Deep inside the “fire” in my heart had burned out.
I had been following a “never-ending dream” that had haunted me from my youth—
A dream of finding Love.
A dream of longing and acceptance and a way to bridge the gap of emptiness and that “something” that had always eluded me.…
The “switch” seemed like it was “on” but the tank was empty!
Whatever was missing from me ached deep inside making me at times feeling lost and very unfilled....
This ache probably started when I was 11 with the loss of my father. The older I got the more it magnified.
I could feel a deep desire to be loved and a burning quest to find it.
Not knowing what I was looking for I just traveled—roamed and did whatever I felt like doing... somehow—someway always landing on my feet and being on top...when the answers to my “quest” appeared out of nowhere I knew fate or providence had provided me another path in the road.
Love entered my house one night in the form of a lady named Wendy.
I never knew I had it in me or would ever find it in my life. EVER.
But I did and found the SECRET of what “binds” all of it together and when it found me it transformed who I was. I found the “real” John.
The answers for my life crystallized and became quite simple when they appeared and as I found out NOTHING works well without the power of LOVE behind it.
NOTHING.
UNCONDITIONAL LOVE!
I never understood the depths of a relationship until I saw this power work.
Consumed it. Lived it and experienced it's depth.
It humbled me until I respected it—slowly I emerged from my cave and dropped all expectations to embrace this strange new power. A power that made me stronger...wiser…ultimately helping me to win most of my battles. Over time...Love guided me and made me into the person I am today!
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This is why I write these notes to you, Son.
So you know the Journey that took so long. The Journey that went down every road in life and seemed to take forever. The Journey to find my heart was not in vain.
I transferred the love I had for Mom into the energy it took to raise you.
That is what I offer you and all I can give you. LOVE—and the fact that it counts.
EVERYTHING COUNTS!
The “reason” we are here is to help others with their path and to ease the burden they carry with them each day. Helping others fills your cup—makes you stronger and fuels the desire to do more.
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I had my first taste of this in the mid-70’s while living in New York when I stumbled into the world of hard-core charity work. Desperate for money and a daily existence I answered an ad for phone solicitation.
The training educated me on the needs of others while putting cash in my pocket.
Everything changes when you put the needs of others First and when you meet people who are stricken with an almost incurable disease—CYSTIC FIBROSIS. (A disease that strikes children and stops their growth and any chance of living to be young adults).
Suddenly my shallow little world vanished and a new world appeared.
This world started me on the path towards Unconditional Love!
That was the beginning of the inward Journey and the Quest for answers on WHY we are here!
The only answer I found is that Love will find You.
It finds all of us. It’s inevitable!
When it comes your way embrace it and use it as your ally.
It will fight your fights and keep you safe.
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“OVER THE FIELDS WE GO…”
Some of us will never forget how things were when we found our freedom in the late 60's.
It started a few years before “Woodstock”—at least it did where I lived.
In the mid-60’s California and Europe was exploding with music creating a springboard for fashion while Pop Art hit center stage. Most of us in the Jersey suburbs wore bellbottoms before they became fashionable. I got my first pair (’67–’68) early on.
Carl, a neighbor and who was in the Navy showed me his pair of wool bells that didn’t fit anymore. I fell in love with the style and wore them even though they itched and were hot in the spring heat.
I didn’t care bells were “cool.” Very cool.
Growing our hair and beards was a natural next step and we started playing allot as soon as the starting bell of freedom came to us through music in the form of Dylan, The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, The Stones, and of course John Lennon and the Beatles—asking us (no telling us) to wake up and start living.
They didn’t have to ask twice for none of us wanted to be left behind.
The rest of the world started moving forward, evolving and having a great time in the process.
The change of the ’60s whipped through our town like a hurricane and my friends and I were swept up in the excitement.
It felt like we were in the mainstream of something special.
It was as “real” as it could get. You could become anything you wanted to be.
Do anything you wanted to do. Go anywhere you wanted to Go.
There were No Limits.
It was a new way to live and once the momentum started there was no way to stop it.
You either rode this new wave in life or watched from the shore.
I have never been a watcher.
The search for meaning in my life was underway...
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The roads of Life brings us
possibilities and options that give us no warning
no Street Signs or Yellow Lights..
So do You Stop with Caution or continue into the Day?
The saying He who hesitates is Lost must be validate but sometimes you have to test the waters to know which way you are going..
and sometimes..
you just sit on the bank by the river of Life
and watch it flow..
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“LAUGHING ALL THE WAY...”
Before The Journey…my house on Lower Ferry Road was small but considered part of the middle class and the scene of many a party for my friends at school including our high school frat.
I started at a young age to party. Dad brought over a pool table from the Trenton Armory
and at 10 years old I had pool tournaments everyday after school.
When I was 16, we held a summer dance party in the backyard and I remember slow dancing with a cheerleader, Sue, to the sounds of the sounds of a new group, The Beach Boys.
A year later, Mom started stepping out and dating more. She would go on weekend excursions with friends—naturally parties at my house became more creative.
One weekend when she left I decided to remove all the useless furniture from the house and asked friends to bring over mattresses, which soon filled the house from top to bottom. Naturally a make-out party began which lasted two days and nights.
I threw a lot of parties but did so with the cooperation of my friends who helped clean up on Sunday (D-Day) before she got home that night.
One spring Sunday in May, we had so much garbage I didn’t know what to do with it.
A number of us drove around the countryside with dozens of bags looking for an isolated area. We found a steep incline off a deserted road and dumped out five to ten large bags of junk and debris.
Two hours later my sister, Betsy, who was now married and living in Titusville showed up screaming. The police found the bags went through them discovering phone numbers and bills threatening to lock up Mom for littering if it wasn’t cleaned immediately.
Mom, who was arriving any minute and my sister, God bless her, began going nuts so we rounded up a few buddies to help fix this illegal activity.
The movie “Alice’s Restaurant,” comes to mind when I think of this incident for poor Arlo who dumped the garbage off a cliff one Thanksgiving Day faced stern police, search helicopters, blood sniffing dogs, crime scene photographers, fingerprinting, and forensic specialists thoroughly trained just for this kind of activity and for the sole purpose of catching terrible people like him and to bring them to justice.
So with the scenes from the movie in my head and thinking the worse we headed back to the place of this horrific crime to retrieve our party litter.
Sneaking down the ravine I held my breath expecting to be photographed fingerprinted and captured by a police with bullhorns BUT all was quiet and there was no one around.
The garbage from the party was scattered everywhere and with my head still pounding from the night before gathered all the junk up throwing it somewhere else minus the phone numbers.
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I am sure our class of ’69 is still is remembered with a twinkle in the eye....
We basically did what we wanted to do and vowed never to get caught.
Graduation was just the beginning of my life in and out of silly adventures but the class of ’69 took FUN to a new level.
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On graduation night Dwight, Anthony, and I left Paul’s party on Main Blvd. to go cruising.
Somewhere between the giggling and excitement of being free from school we ended up on the outskirts of Princeton.
That’s when the real fun began as I saw a great sight. A Steam Roller on the side of the road just sitting there waiting for us....
Were the keys in it? Was there enough gas?
Yes, to all of the above.
So we did what any normal drunken grads would do. We jumped on the beast and started driving down the road. The side of the road and over the road on to neighbors’ yards…. watch out for cars-oops sorry about your mailbox, sir!
Laughing some more we got off the fun machine found our car and vanished into the night.
When the police set-up a road block around the perimeter to look for the bad people who had taken their prize machine for a joy ride we drove right into it with innocence written all over all faces.
Interrogation lead us into separate rooms at the station and with that same innocence we each denied any guilt or wrong doing despite an eyewitness to “The Crime.”
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“WHAT FUN IT IS TO RIDE AND SING…”
Paul and I left Ewing late that Fall (’69) and headed for Miami and college in his ’58 pick-up.
We were both looking for a new life and adventure.
We didn’t really know how crazy the rest of the world was.
We soon found out.
Both of us had missed Woodstock but heard about it firsthand from our closest friends such as Novo, Ralph, and Alan who were there. (Poor Alan had to be airlifted from the site due to a spider bite.)
The real party started that weekend in N.Y.
Thoughts of fun in the sun began during the ’68 spring break when we visited Tom S. who was attending the community college at Miami-Dade.
Tom had a cool pad with black lights in most of the rooms that was near the beach.
He was tan and always smiling.
Not too hard to handle. It was a plan!
My little Honda bike sat next to Paul’s Suzuki in the back of the truck as we headed south to a school that offered us a cheap education and year-round sunshine.
Warm sunshine. Another cold winter in Jersey was not an option. We didn’t have to think too hard to be motivated.
So we packed-up and left!
The trip itself was slow, long, and boring.
Paul didn’t allow his truck past 50 M.P.H. and that was on the highway.
It was slower on the back roads where I-95 connected to smaller towns and when a small downpour turned into a mini street-flood that came right up to the floorboards we knew we were in for a long trip.
Driving for days at this speed takes its toll on a person. Arriving in Daytona Beach, excited to see people, we drove on the beach celebrating with the locals who showed us a great deal of hospitality.
Paul remembers laying on the beach and almost getting run over by the bikes that cruise up and down. I don’t remember anything but sobering up two to three days later in someone’s house near the beach.
The trip with stops, slow speeds, parties, and floods took us close to a week to finish, but we somehow made it.
Seeing the sign to Miami Beach made us turn off immediately and head to the ocean near many of the major hotels.
It was pitch-black and dark when we parked. Hearing the sound of the waves I jumped out of our home on wheels and ran towards the sound ready to begin riding the surf.
What I didn’t know was that there were enemies on the beach waiting for me that night.
Enemies who had secretly buried themselves in the sand—ready to strike!
Unbeknownst to me giant jellyfish were nesting and lying there like landmines waiting and as I ran towards the ocean I firmly squished one or two and they shot their poison straight into my leg and kneecap. Jumping into the warm waters the pain started moving throughout my whole leg making it numb and hard to walk.
Welcome to Miami!
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South Florida was untamed and just slightly developed at the time—just like us!
When God created Eve to keep Adam company it was the end of Eden and the
perfect world they call paradise.
I thank God everyday I wake up for inventing these beautiful creatures called WOMEN who inhabit our world.
They inspire me.
I’ve been known to pick-up a fresh boutique of carnations on Valentine’s Day gleefully passing them out to any woman I would meet on the street.
The smile of a woman is intoxicating and has to be the most beautiful thing in the world.
To make a lady feel special is the best moment there is.
I was born a true romantic (on Valentine’s Day) and with the sign of Aquarius hanging on my heart you can see why love puts a spring in my step. So imagine if you will my delight going to the beaches of Miami where beauties are suntanned and in bikinis.
Paradise on earth was back and I felt like a man who had not eaten for years and had now found the line to the smorgasbord of life where variety and taste surrounded all senses.
In between meals I attended classes at Miami Dade and played at our little house in the SW.
In a few months our friends Danny and Ralph, (Alan was already there), moved down.
It seemed like a small circus with a revolving door of new visitors appearing daily.
Anything that could happen, did!
For food we would sneak into the University of Miami cafeteria, which was near our house, and eat for free moving on to the next dorm room party or music jam. Getting high and playing Frisbee to music all night worked well in the hot Florida nights.
One afternoon, high on many things, including the sunshine, a street-wide Frisbee game began. Many people from the neighborhood joined in.
Alan, who was always high decided to get even higher and climbed on the roof catching and throwing with the rest of the gang.
As I walked out of my room (the porch), Alan yelled. He had touched the power line while playing and thought he had electrocuted himself. He fell and hit something and landed in the bushes next to the porch and got up laughing—all in a matter of half a second.
His Afro hair and this incident gave him the fitting nickname “Electric Al” which stuck for years.
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It was hard to take school seriously. I was there to basically stay out of the draft and to get tan. Period.
Once I did find myself on campus just getting to class was a challenge. The outside patio offered a small park setting complete with benches and a stage for concerts.
One sunny day as I strolled by, Santana was setting up to play.
The following week CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) came on the scene to offer us rock‘n’roll complete with a horn section. The first I had seen in live music.
At the U of M, outside patio concerts were held almost weekly and most groups of the day played for free.
The best would hypnotize you by playing directly to your soul and to the beautiful sunsets that submerged us in their colors.
One night, Jesse Colin Young, played a song that seemed to last forever and
then some when he played he created a sunset of his own through a melody that went on forever...magically slipping us into the night.
That is how the real masters of music play. They sweep you away into a timeless place.
A place that makes you feel safe, free, and very much alive.
So very much alive.
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“MAKING SPIRITS BRIGHT…”
Moving to a more civilized area of condos in Coral Gables my neighbors turned out to be the lively bunch from National Airlines.
If you had heard about the women from this carrier, they had quite a reputation to uphold.
Each ad would show a girl named Phyllis, Sally, Beth, June, et cetera. And with their big smiles and beautiful bodies would welcome you to “fly them.” National even named each plane after a girl and ran ads everywhere to arouse the young travelers of the day.
The campaign worked well, and it was with much delight that I found an apartment next to mine filled with women from the airline.
Sally, one of the stewardesses, became lonely one night and joined me for a free concert at the next campus.
Why would I hesitate? Off we went to the Dade campus smoking hash in her convertible Triumph and blasting music through the 8-track player.
A fairly new group was playing that day. The Allman Brothers from Georgia were touring and playing anywhere they could to promote themselves with the release of a new album.
This is the first time of many I would see them play. Greg and Duane Allman, Dicky Betts. They ripped set after set, which lasted hours.
The Allman’s were awesome. They would drink and hang out with the crowd in-between and just keep going. I think I passed out before they were done. All I remember is waking up in bed with Sally the next morning, smiling a drunken grin.
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That fall school began at the Miami-Dade South campus and things got interesting in a hurry. During my first week I started talking to a fellow student who sat next to me in history class.
It seemed her nursing school sent them over to take a few courses to compliment their medical training.
As I found out just a few miles from my house sat a separate college completely full of female nursing students. Those many dates still make me smile.
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Leading up to college, Vietnam was the most important subject for any of us.
Graphic visuals of death and destruction came across the tube day and night.
Stories began surfacing as friends and neighbors began dying on the rice fields and jungles in this faraway land.
My generation was the very next to be drafted.
We did not understand the battle and or why we should fight and die or be maimed in a land that seemed non-threatening to our American soil.
Protests then were individual rights and personal decisions. Many friends and neighbors had just turned 18.
They firmly decided they would not go. Unified group protests were still in the near future.
Stories of people called to the draft board for physicals and interviews surfaced.
Most drew a line in the sand and did whatever they could not to be inducted.
Creative ideas started to appear. Stupid ideas began as well. People took lots of drugs, claimed they were homosexual, stayed up for days drinking coffee, pretended they were mentally ill, faked doctor notes, and did WHATEVER it took to fail the draft.
This fight. This war was different from war in our father’s time when the country was rallying behind a great leader and fighting oppression.
It was obvious the government was NOT telling the whole story and throwing the world a smoke screen. We just did not know why and it scared us.
Close to 18 years old I briefly enlisted in the National Guard in honor of my Dad, a WWII veteran and hero at the Battle of the Bulge.
I backed out at the last minute after seeing the horror and tragedy of students dying at Kent State.
The National Guard is sworn to protect and help people. Not designed to kill unarmed students.
It was a very sad time in America and when the full story came out from Ohio I was glad Dad was not around to see the disgrace.
Ohio guardsman thought they were firing with rubber bullets, OOPS sorry, they’re real!
To say things got a little tense is an understatement. Neighbors being drafted and dying in what looked like a useless fight lead by a man you couldn’t trust drew a line in the sand for everyone.
The nation was already very confused. In the mid-60’s race riots and protests caught everybody off-guard.
The “old school” that had protected our country a decade earlier was now being challenged and “called out” in its own backyard.
People of all races said, “Enough.”
The simmering pot came to a boil with Vietnam. It divided families included husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, employees and employers.
Everyone had an opinion.
Everyone in America took a side.
A line was drawn between the Pro-war and the Peace-lovers and the line ran down our city, state, and country in breathtaking speed. Neighbor to neighbor. Person to person.
People everywhere turned their voice to one side or the other while the country was igniting in front of our eyes.
I took the side of Peace and was granted immunity from war by a student exemption that lasted my first year in college but after one year the exemption was lifted. I was fair game for the draft and thought of Canada often.
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One sunny day, we had time on our hands and decided to hangout at the beach near the Fontainebleau Hotel.
Immediately, we were hypnotized by the smell of surf, sand, suntan lotion and of course the mountains of pretty coeds.
It seemed nice to finally make it to paradise or so it seemed for the thought was short-lived.
In the near distance storm clouds were approaching and as two funnel clouds formed to create large waterspouts Brian and I gasped and started to run—then someone calmly mentioned that this sort of thing happened a lot at the beach and it was harmless.
We left anyway just to be safe.
Later that day driving back to our house brought us to a man on the side of the road who was struggling with his car. Pulling over to help we noticed it was an old classmate, Alan Rosenberg from Ewing (’68-Electric Al).
Alan was new in town and decided to also enroll in Miami-Dade. His hair was as big and bushy as the largest Afro you can ever imagine. The sun made it glisten and his tan shone through the haze. He was in definitely in his element, but without a place to stay or a car so he moved in with us adding to the party we held at “Woodstock South.”
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Life in college was a blur. I spent it the way most students do by enjoying cold kegs and warm coeds.
In the summer of ’70, I decided to stay in Southern Florida and bask in the heat and solitude by the ocean.
My goal that year was simple. Sailing from Coconut Grove on my friend Bruce’s boat and working on my tan with little ambition for anything but playing music in the evenings with my flute, jamming at clubs for beer money and getting up the next day to do it all over again.
Life was good but things change in a hurry when you are destined for something else and my train got on a new track when I met Ron Kamin and his friends from New York that fall.
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“JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE ALL THE WAY…”
Fall 1971 brought with it YES, Emerson Lake and Palmer (ELP), and amazing new sounds from England.
The music world opened up when electronics began using synthesizers.
Prior to that the only way you could incorporate a full sound in a band was with “live orchestras.” Now with a push of a button the music world brought us unlimited vibrations.
This new wave of music began heading our way and straight towards Miami thanks to the local concert promoters.
Ron Kamin and his crew handled most shows in the area. His company created the support for just about every event. Somehow. Some way I wanted in on the fun and one day the opportunity presented itself as I was allowed to help carry equipment for the Jake Geils band.
My fee -a free concert.
The following week I went head-on into the concert world and began a part time career of back stage set-ups, manning the troopers (lights), or anything else I could do to help the crew.
After a few months I started working in “the office,” where the underground paper, the Daily Planet, was produced and sold, “the office” where the concerts began and ended.
Before long I got to know all the players including Jerry Powers, the owner and my first mentor in business. Jerry could smell money under an avalanche and easily find a way to dig it up.
Motivated by the business of music I left school and became involved with a unique opportunity to work with the masters of rock.
One little job led to another, I would be hauling equipment one night while working security the next or running for Danishes and coffee. I became a tradesman and gofer all at once. Paid mostly in cash and below minimum wage didn’t matter. I loved it!
Meanwhile, I was meeting all the players in the business which included managers, road crews, vendors, lighting, sound techs, and, of course, the groups.
The music business is grueling, but with each new venue my contacts grew.
Groups coming through the circuit included the best I had ever heard…
B.B. King, Allman Brothers, ZZ Topp, Beach Boys, Steely Dan, Johnny/Edgar Winter, Pink Floyd, Stevie Wonder, Traffic, Elton John, Jethro Tull, Rod Stewart, ELP, YES, Deep Purple, Mountain, and many opening acts like Foghat, K.C, Marshall Tucker, JoJo Gunne, even Chubby Checker and his revival with Mary Wells came through our doors and brought their special blend of magic to the stage.
In the business world, you always have a learning curb. The world of music isn’t any different and maybe even more extreme.
One of my first assignments was to watch and baby-sit Johnny and Edgar Winter’s girlfriends. They were staying at the Coconut Grove Hotel, which is next to the bay and a beautiful park.
My job was to stay in the room, to watch their every move and keep them there at all costs, but (oops) they snuck away into the day to shop or get high after one of their friends distracted me.
At a young age I found out that rock‘n’roll women can be very devious.
I never did find out the outcome with the girls and went to the site late in the afternoon to help prepare for the evening’s show.
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Working side by side with Ron on stage opened my eyes to the planning and the timing for a live event.
Watching his work habits and constantly asking questions paid off one day as the unthinkable happened.
Ron was as professional as anyone but he had a weakness which included booze mixed with sedatives after work.
On this particular night we had just produced a show featuring Foghat and Steely Dan (their last tour for 25 years).
The stage props included the usual rentals from local vendors. Ron’s vendor list was endless and always included the rental of a baby grand piano. When we left for the night, the stage was cleaned, set and ready for the next show—little did we know a small tropical storm was brewing in the south and heading our way.
Ron settled down for a normal evening of his usual sedatives—Quaaludes and Booze.
In the early morning hours the storm came and swept through Miami as it always did—fast, wet and pouring for an hour or two until it finally disappeared and headed north.
By noon, Ron had lost his job and comfortable lifestyle as a stage manager.
The short storm soaked and ruined the piano he had forgot to remove the night before.
By 3 p.m. I walked into work ready for my next assignment but as I entered Jerry shut the door and jabbered out the story of Ron’s stupidity. He then asked if I could handle the responsibilities of running the concerts and advance ticket sales for Miami.
I just looked up and smiled!
“When is the next show?” I asked.
I was more than ready!