Famous Writers From My Hometown
Way back in 1972, I found myself really struggling to find a place for myself in the new Nixon America, both philosophically and economically. The 1960s were clearly over and nobody wanted to hire me — either as a hippie single mother or as a female city planner with a masters degree from Cal. The days of Johnson’s Great Society and Urban Removal were gone completely and monies that used to go to improve our urban infrastructure had all been consumed in a fire called the Vietnam War. Plus planning departments throughout the land were mostly hiring only men “because they had families to support.” Hey, me too!
And so I decided to go to a hypnotist who would then ask my subconscious mind for advice on the subject of, “What should I do with my life?” What am I good at? And the answer came back so definitively clear that it startled me.
“You are a WRITER,” screamed my subconscious. Go figure. Or maybe it had said, “Righter,” meaning a person who seeks justice and to put things to right. Or perhaps both.
And 40 years later, here I am — constantly writing my little heart out. So my subconscious mind was clearly on target. And I am also now living in a city that is famous for its writers (and Righters too): Berkeley, California. So I decided to go for a walk and check out the places where these famous waiters had lived.
Alan Ginsberg lived at 1624 Milvia Street when he wrote “Howl.” And he also used to come over to visit my friends at the Woolsey Street House and hang out with Country Joe McDonald, Chogyam Trungpa and the Floating Lotus Magic Opera.
Jack Kerouac lived at 1943 Berkeley Way. Philip K. Dick lived at 1126 Francisco Street and worked at the Lucky Dog pet shop http://www.berkeleyside.com/2012/07/17/a-roadmap-to-berkeleys-literary-scene/ The list goes on and on. Ursula Le Guin, Robert Penn Warren, Huey Newton, Joan Didion, Anthony Boucher, June Jordan, Michael Chabon… All of them had homes in Berkeley.
But then I got to thinking about all the other residents — writers, Righters or not — currently living in Berkeley who do NOT have any homes. James, the writer who lives on the sidewalk in front of Jon’s ice cream shop, for instance. He has no home. And there are many, many, many others too — writers or not — who now live on our streets, unprotected and constantly at the mercy of weather, economic downturns, criminal minds, and bad luck.
And these are only the homeless people in Berkeley that I’m talking about. All across America today there are thousands — probably even millions — of potential writers (and Righters) who are now (involuntarily) On The Road.
The strange and cancerous growth of homelessness in America since Jimmy Carter should surely give me something to write about. And should give you something to write about, too. For instance, you could write to your congressional representative and tell him or her to stop spending our money on sleazy bank bailouts and stupid wars and start spending it on housing and schools instead. Who knows? Perhaps somewhere out there, homeless and afraid and without an education, is America’s next William Faulkner, Mark Twain or Janet Evanovich! http://www.ted.com/conversations/9175/less_than_1_paid_for_the_worl.html
PS: Didn’t Mark Twain live in Berkeley, too? Or at least visit here a lot? I know that he left his memoirs to the University of California.
PPS: Here is an article I wrote back in 2007 after my visit to Nelson Mandela’s home town, Soweto, back when I was in the Peace Corps in South Africa. “Up the ‘Bucs!” http://jpstillwater.blogspot.com/2007/09/u-p-bucs-visiting-south-africas-soweto.html
And another article I wrote about Mandela’s relationship to Lucas Mangope, uncrowned king of the Setswana, who lived in my South African home town. http://jpstillwater.blogspot.com/2007/09/lucas-mangope-one-of-south-africas.html
War, Mortgages, Measuring Human Spirit
When millions of people are suffering and dying, we tend to focus on the stories of individuals who then come to represent them all.
Anne Frank represents for a vast majority the ugliness visited on Jews during WWII. The stories are haunting. All stories of vast human suffering impact us.
Only those without conscience or empathy can view the suffering of others and not be moved. Anne Frank died before I was born, but sometimes, unexpectedly, you find yourself confronted with a story of human endurance which is overwhelming.
Another saga of suffering, endured by millions as World War II was playing out, is the massive geographical dislocation of millions of Eastern Europeans as the Soviet-German rolled into Germany from the east.
I learned about this story, unexpectedly, while reviewing a foreclosure case from New Mexico. For Carl Mehner, who with his parents and siblings survived the nightmare of war, dislocation, starvation, the trauma has been life long.
Carl’s father, an accountant in Dresden, Germany, and his wife were Christians of the “Sabbatarian” persuasion. Their faith made them targets of persecution in Germany as possibly sympathetic to Jews.
Carl’s father, never a soldier, was forced into slave labor, separated from his family, and forced to dig anti-tank ditches.
In 1943, separately, they became refugees, attempting to reach the west as the Soviet Army swept in.
Their children were 2, 3 and 6.
Carl remembers sleeping in fields, ruins, deserted and destroyed buildings, hungry all the time. Walking seemed endless through a landscape of burning villages.
First separately, and then together, they struggled to find food for themselves and their children. Carl was always cold and starving. Traumas were continuous.
Reunited, Carl’s parents were determined to reach America. It was a 10-year long struggle. In America, the family worked on a farm for food, as their children attended school.
Eventually, Carl married Frances Phillips from Southgate, Calif.
The couple eventually settled in Albuquerque, N.M. where Carl served as chairman for the modern language department for 22 years, retiring in 2005. Frances ran a court reporting business.
Then, the mortgage meltdown began, taking their home without reason.
Fighting back Pro Se, Carl and Frances endured arrest, harassment, and abuse, as have others. They continue to fight. We never know what is possible until we have given our fullest measure. Carl’s parents taught him this, and he remembers.
