Nine Hours to New Jersey

My brother was waiting to get shipped to Vietnam by the U.S. Army. In 1970 a tour in Vietnam meant there was a good chance of returning in a body bag or wheel chair and this was not something Go-Go dealt with well. One night, she and some of the kids from "the farm" including my brother Tim, were partying and talking about how messed up Vietnam was and debating about whether Tom, who was an electrical technician, would be sent to the front line or not.

The Farm was a house outside of town where a group of young hippies lived, including Tim. Go-Go spent a lot of time out there drinking and getting high, sometimes not coming home until the morning. She didn't approve of hippies until they became convenient party pals. She partied with a lot of people she didn't otherwise approve of.

They must have whipped themselves into quite a frenzy that night because around one in the morning Go-Go, Tim, and two others piled into Roger's Buick and headed to New Jersey where Tom was stationed. They had to see him one more time. Before leaving they stopped at a liquor store and loaded up on booze. I don’t know if they traded off driving or if Go-Go, the “adult” in the group, did all the driving. I can only imagine what they must have looked like piling out of the car at gas stations and truck stops on the highway-Go-Go and the three teenage hippies who were half her age.

I wonder if after she woke up the first morning she was devastated to realize what she had done. She left five children at home between the ages of 6 and 16. Was she mortified? Roger was around, but he wasn’t in the habit of caring for us. When we woke, we assumed she was at the farm, but later she called and told us she was in New Jersey.

According to Tom, they were so hung over all they wanted to when they arrived was sleep. I think he was proud that his crazy Mom and brother got drunk and spontaneously decided to visit him - it was after all the the tale end of the sixties. He didn't know what was in store for him and was probably happy to see some familiar faces. He took them to his favorite beach and to a local dive and introduced them to his pals from the base. I don’t think Go Go was too excited about sobering up with the hippy kids so they headed back after spending two nights. Driving drunk was a common occurrence in my family but no one but Go-Go could claim to have driven from Wisconsin to New Jersey under the influence.

Orange Sunshine

The effects of the drug began to take hold - it was so powerful I had to leave the party. I left with a group of kids who were also on acid. Earlier, on the way to the party, an older boy offered me a tiny square of paper and told me to let it sit under my tongue and not swallow it. I did as I was told.

We went to a park where I began to have intense visual hallucinations looking into the face of one of the boys. When he spoke a light and shape concert would arise behind his face, turning him into a dance of patterns and lights and when he stopped talking he would turn back to his normal self - only in black and white. If I waved my hand trails of light followed my movements. I was enjoying my hallucinations so much I lost track of the time. When I realized it was nearly midnight, I raced home as fast as I could, fearing I would run into Go-Go - after all, I was still only eleven.

I ran the entire mile to my family’s apartment and felt like I could run another mile. I had so much energy. I went up to my room, relieved to have avoided Go-Go. With Neil Young playing on my stereo, I laid in bed enjoying the curious feelings in my body. There were posters all over my walls and one of them was the album insert with a copy of Neil Young’s hand written lyrics. I stood on my bed to read the poster so I could sing along. The words dripped and pooled into little puddles. When he stopped singing, the words would turn back into letters. It happened over and over and each time I would laugh out loud.

My fun was abruptly interrupted when I heard Go-Go drive up, stumble out of her car and come into the house. I quickly turned the light and stereo off and lay in my bed trying to hide in my stillness - she had a way of knowing when I was up to something. I heard her rustling outside my door and before I could breathe again, the door to my room opened. “Diane, we have to talk.”

She climbed into bed next to me, and began to talk about all her children and what they all meant to her - each-child’s special qualities and why she loved that person but why I was particularly special. “Tim is smart”, she began, in her sentimental drunk voice, syrupy and slurry “he’s not very ambitious but he’s smart and someday he’ll settle down,” “but you Diane, you are so special.” She went on and on through every one of my siblings, punctuating each child’s greatness with mine.

And then the hallucinations started again. I had my back to her and was staring at my radio alarm clock. Each time she spoke the clock would disintegrate into a pile of melted metal and white tiled numbers, and when she stopped talking it would pop back into full form. The radio melted and formed, melted and formed, offering me solace from the torture I felt listening to her pathetic drivel. I thought it would go on forever but finally she fell asleep.

I laid in bed for hours, trying not to move for fear I would wake her. As the effects began to wear off, I got more and more uncomfortable but still couldn’t sleep. I finally dozed off and when I woke up she was gone.