Freque Factory - Alabama Interlude, Part 3

Freque Factory

Alabama Interlude, Part 3

   I met some pretty interesting people in Huntsville.  Most of them lived on Lincoln Street, the "hipped enclave" for a block, near Downtown.  They are worth recording.

   Possibly the most interesting person was a woman I'll call Rachel.  She was the most pure "free spirit" I've ever met. She was from Minnesota, but rarely lived there.  For some reason she had been arrested and spent time at Leavenworth.  That's a federal prison.  I think she was involved in some protest/anti-war stuff that went wrong.  But when it went happened she was either 17 or 18.  She was released from prison after a short time, but had odd probation requirements.  Once a month she had to show up in Minnesota to see her probation officer.  The rest of the time she hitchhiked around the country.  The first house on Lincoln Street, where I spent most of my time, was a regular stop.

   Rachel and I became friends.  I could never live the life she did.  It was interesting to realize that.  She was almost totally uninhibited.  I would watch her say and do things that I would never think of-and I'm from California!  She was amazingly frank about sex.  I called her tri-sexual.  She would try pretty much anything sexual.  Remarkable.

   When I met her, Rachel was almost 20 years old, almost my age.  Her probation would be over when she was 21.  Her free ride would be over then.  No monthly checks from the state.  Rachel was realistic about it though.  She was making plans to settle back down in Minnesota then.  It sounded so boring.  I couldn't imagine her living that life for very long.  I don't know how her story ended.

The first house on Lincoln Street was rented by 3 very different men.  Gary B. was nor particularly a nice person, but a very good musician.  He had been in several well regarded local bands and it was felt that he would "make it" in the music industry.  So he had the rock star arrogance.  Unfortunately for him, he had an aggressive case of psoriesses, a nasty skin disease.  As it sometimes does, the disease was giving him crippling arthritis in his hands.  He was watching his musical ability fade away.  Gary and I ended up friends.  We had  several very heart felt conversations about his need to change his life.  The rock star ego faded.  Don't know what happened to him.  I wish him well.

   On paper, Gene should have been a cool guy.  He had the same last name as me (spelled differently from me) and was from California.  Gene had drifted into Hunstville after surviving the Army.  He found other vets and stayed.  He was just a blah human.  Even the hippie girls who would sleep with anyone weren't all that interested in him.

   Shane was the man I spent the most time with.  He was from South Carolina, but was going to welding school there in Huntsville.  Once he graduated he planned on returning home.  He was a simple man.  Smart, and he knew what he wanted.  I think a lot of that came from his Vietnam War experiences.  He wanted to hang out with friends and to have the world leave him alone.  He and I were casual lovers.  The interesting thing was how he coped with post Vietnam stress.  Shane would insist on some part of my touching his all night long.  As long as there was physical contact, he was fine.  But sudden contact could trigger war reflexes.  Since my brother's wife had talked about similar experiences, I wasn't all that surprised.

   The rest of the block was an ever changing cast of mostly male hippies.  They were fun, but not that memorable.

   

   Eventually summer was over and the temperatures were starting to drop.  There was a hint of fall in the air.  I still didn't have a job.  And it did snow in Huntsville sometimes.  Time to make some changes.  I contacted my mom (I still wasn't talking to my dad much) and she told me that I could move back home with her.  She was sounding much more sane. She had a job and appeared to be moving on with her life.  So, time to go home.

   Before I left I had some final adventures with Marie.  She wanted me to come back in the spring so we could get a place together.  She had a car, so it seemed like a good plan.  I would go back to LA, get a job and save money to move back to Huntsville.

   We went back to the club up in Tennessee one more time.  Back then, someone under 21 (and over 18) could go to a club there and drink beer or wine.  No hard alcohol.  Usually canned music.  But we could dance and have fun, so we had been there several times.  It was near Polaski, Tennessee.  That last time my former lover came with us.  It was an odd night.  It was like he wanted to make up with me, but not.  Finally I was like, I'm going to go dance...

   And before I knew it, I was packing up my stuff and getting on another airplane.  Back to Los Angeles.  Time to find out what the other freques were up to.