June 9,  2025

Began to write about the weekend.  Here's the first installment, more to come.

Grey hair, white beards, a little shorter, most heavier, we gathered in a neutral location with no associations to tint the new experience. A central spot surrounded by our art, some new, some old. A focus to draw us into conversation, for those that needed one and for those who didn’t, well some of them didn’t even see the art. Conversation took a hold before there was time to look at the walls.


But stories began to rush out and memories, memories that made smiles, laughter and some tears. I saw several men cry, not so much from sadness but from a sense of forlorn and a sense of too bad, and the knowledge we’d lost too many. “Too bad we lost this one, and him, too, yes, she’s gone.”

We tried to recall names pulling people out of the air, long black hair, tall, humor, her name was” He had red/blond Afro and piercing blue eyes, oh what was his name? He was Debbie’s boyfriend. She tried to end her life with a bottle of pills, we kept her walking and talking for 10 hours before an ambulance drove up to the dorm.

C and R married first, followed by so many others. A. and M. still together, still near, still able to cause people to fall in love with them. Who had children? Whose children went to Marlboro, too? How many generations found their way to the top of the mountain?

When I came to Marlboro in September of `1974 in my brand new Subaru, the family that ran the corner store where we bought necessities like cigarettes, Tab, beer and Mystic Mint cookies was the Whitney’s. Joyce was 5’3’’ and Hugh was 6’ 4’’. They had 3 daughters and a small farm and giant hearts. Within weeks they had adopted me.

I can’t begin to tell you what my overall mental health was, but I was slightly disassociated. Nothing felt familiar or comfortable or exactly right.

Went to the rookery around 5:30, it was 64 and cloudy, drizzling, no big birds.  Purple and yellow wildflowers are beginning to dot the tall extremely green grasses.  

At least 12 baby goats were born last  week, today was the first I saw of a couple of them.  They were doing their baby goat hopping dance.  

I've had 4 days of people, wonderous, wonderful people.  Tomorrow I get some down time.