A couple posts back I talked about the mob a little bit. Early 70's New York, they were everywhere. Even in Catholic School there was a kid that people said "His dad's in the mob." Just didn't make that much of an impact on my mind. I didn't like it, but it was reality. I wasn't thinking about it. He sat next to me for a while & I let him glance at my paper during tests. I was like that. I believed in sharing and bucking the rules. He was smart enough to change it up anyway.
Yeah. I mentioned that I used to go to the Action House/Rockpile in Island Park. And sometimes that pot or hash would dry up. I went there with this fella on occasion that had connections. A couple of times he brought me to a house, but he'd always say "Don't tell anyone. No one knows they live there."
He was related to one of the people that was living there. I wasn't naive, but I was naive enough for this. That psychedelic hippie outlook... I wasn't going to judge these people. I didn't know what was going on. Their hair was freaky to me.... pompadour... teased up and sprayed. It was usually the other way around. I think they got a kick out of me, even though I hardly spoke in their presence.
Did it never cross my mind why they always had a supply when no one else on Long Island did? Yeah, I just didn't get the scope of it all. So it was early in 1972. I was at the Rockpile and this guy and I went over to this house and picked up a small amount of pot. But we smoked a bunch of it there and then they offered to drive us home.
 |
| Representing a blonde hippie girl getting into the car |
Dumb as I was, I was really stoned. We pulled into a convenience store parking lot. They needed cigarettes. I didn't smoke, but that wasn't a big deal. It's not like people made a big deal about your age when buying a cigarette. I don't remember if there were even any laws. I remember going to the candy store to buy them for my Mom when I was little. They wanted me to go into the store to buy them. I was so stoned. I could hardly sit up. I kept saying no & they kept asking nicely, saying please and everything.
Everyone was in the car. The two couples that lived there & us. Three in the front. Three in the back. You could fit a lot of people in 70's cars. Why me? I just kept saying no. So finally one of the ladies got out and got the cigarettes. The fella told me the next day that I should have gotten the cigarettes. That our "hosts" were wanted. Publicly wanted. I didn't want to know details. I said "You should have told me." "I couldn't in the car."
Seems like it was a couple of months, maybe six weeks, one of the couples goes missing. About a week later they were found in New Jersey. It was a terrible crime. My little innocent soul was broken. My friends soul was broken. We didn't get what was going on. We were just lost children.
