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The MOST Newsletter Autumn 1998 Volume VI #1

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Lou walking home to his cabin - 1996
(Click on the thumbnail for full picture)

Bob Zimmerman, 9/28/98: This song was written by Scott Wiseman. It was sung by Lou Gottlieb and performed by the Limeliters in the mid '60s:. I think it is a great song and worthy of this year's Memorial.

"Remember Me"
Chorus:
Remember Me when the candlelights are Gleamin',
Remember Me at the end of a long, long Day,
It would be so Sweet when all alone I'm Dreamin',
Just to Know you still Remember Me.

The sweetest Songs belong to Lovers in the Gloamin',
The sweetest Days are days that used to be,
The saddest Words I ever heard were words of Parting,
When you said, sweetheart, Remember Me.

You told me once that you were mine alone Forever,
And I was yours to the end of Eternity,
But all the Vows are broken now and we will never,
Be the same except in Memory!

A brighter face may take my place when we're apart, dear,
A sweeter smile and a love more Bold and Free,
But in the end fair-weather friends may break your Heart, dear,
And if they do, sweetheart, Remember Me!

Jodi Glassman Mitchell: Meanwhile Back At The Ranch
A Newsletter From May 1993
A History (the land: when, where, why)
A Reunion and Renewal
THEN
In 1965, Bill Wheeler, a young man from Connecticut, came into some money and bought a piece of land in Western Sonoma County. Little did he know what he was getting into! Before the ink was dry on the deed, a fire ravaged much of the land. Dauntless, he chose to proceed. Located above the quaint village of Occidental, one follows the winding, picturesque Coleman Valley Road up through the shady fern and redwood groves until just at the moment when a breathtaking openess appears. The sky turns turquoise. the sun dazzels, and lush green meadows abundant with orange poppies enfold on each side of the road. You are there. At the bottom of the dirt road to your left lies the infamous Wheelers Ranch.
Rumors abound as to what actually coerced or inspired Bill to profess his land to be "OPEN" land and to disavow private property ownership; or whether he actually did so. But shortly thereafter, the recently dispossessed Morningstar Ranch Commune took refuge at Wheeler's and the seeds were sown! The word soon spread through the "hippie telegraph"; flower children, gypsies, saints and sinners fled the increasing crime, violence and heavy narcotics of the Haight-Ashbury and Telegraph Avenue scene and moved to the Ranch looking for a more peaceful existance. Hundreds flocked there, building little hobbit houses in the trees. setting up housekeeping, and eventually a community garden. bakery, sweatlodge and a psychedelically painted school bus to go on "community runs" to town. There were little or no rules or organization.
I was one of these people. After running away from a small town in West Virginia. living on the streets of Berkeley for a couple of years, I ended up at the Ranch in March of 1971. I was immediately incorporated into this loving and devoted family. I settled on a secluded portion of the land called "The Knoll". I studied the nature around me in earnest, planted a small vegetable garden, participated in the weekly feast day and steam bath and had a brief love affair with a man named Bruce. I naively thought I would be able to live there forever. Just three months later rumors surfaced of a probable bust by local and federal authorities. Frightened, barefoot and pregnant, I was accompanied to the "main gate" by my friend Pat and her child Eden. Crying as we hugged, she said, "See you again in eternity."
My friend Maverick gave me a pouch he had made. "Find a special stone or something from the land to put in it," he said, "for luck."
My friend John Thomas warned me,' 'Remember Lot's wife and don't look back!"
And so I did not turn around for one last glance as I walked that long and lonely journey back out to the unknown. As my son, Moriah< Wheeler Mitchell (A.K.A."Mitch"), and I faced a continual struggle to survive in an increasingly isolating and hostile world. I held on tightly to my Wheeler's Ranch memories to provide comfort, hope and inner strength through the years to come.

A recent photo of Jodi and her son Mitch NOW
In 1990, once again in Berkeley, I overheard two women talking about a May Day reunion to be held at Wheeler's Ranch. My ears pricked up. After a 19-year absence, I returned to the Ranch. Emotionally overwhelmed, I quietly watched the festivities with both joy and sorrow in my heart, and returned home to Berkeley. I did not return again until May lst, 1993. A beautiful, sunny Saturday brought me and about a hundred others back to the Land for a glorious May Day reunion. In more than 20 years since the fire, the land has renewed itself. A man named Don. who lives at the Ranch. told me how the ecosystem has revitalized itself, and how some of its original inhabitants have returned. He has spotted weasel, fox, jackrabbit, deer and golden eagle soaring above!!
THE REUNION
Many people brought food and many brought children! In the early days, men used to jokingly warn each other about the fertility of Wheeler's Ranch! This was no joke; many babies were born then and many more are arriving now. My son is now 21. Bill's daughter Raspberry was at the reunion (I hadn't seen her since she was 1!), a beautiful and savvy young woman, she is in her 20's now! I met Kumbaya,lovely and wise beyond her years, residing in San Francisco now. She was also conceived at the Ranch and aged 21 like my son!
Ramon was there, an early Rancher from the Morningstar days, providing background music on his squeezebox. He's published a few books and looks dashing as ever.
Lou Gottlieb was also there, an early rock and roll phenomena and country commune founder.
Coyote,who I had met on my very first day at the Ranch in '71, was back with his wife, attired in brightly colored tie-dye. Charles vaguely remembered hearing about me in the old days from my very dear friends, Sun and Moonflower (long lost to the COSMOS). Valentin, an artist from Russia now residing in Berkeley, was there on an invite from Bill. "My very first Maypole ever,"he said, "This place is a paradise."
And of course, Bill, still youthful, unassuming and unpretentious as ever. Plenty of good food was had by all. Children romped freely and ecstatically in the fields. Everyone conversed and reminisced. Folks hiked around the land to soak in the incredible Ansel Adams vistas and wildflowers. Everything finally culminated in the Dance.
THE MAYPOLE
The maypole was festooned with colorfully dyed streamers, and a beautiful bouquet of flowers on top. Every streamer was clutched tightly by both big and small hands. People of all ages ~vith happy faces danced around the pole, accompanied by Ramons accordian and 'Will the circle be unbroken.'
Earlier in the day, Petria from San Francisco said to me,"It is all a circle." Valentin from Russia informed me of the same thing,"It is all a circle." And it's true, the wild nature returned, the people returned, and the spirit is renewed and carried on in our children and in our hearts.
BILL
I don't really know the history of the land after I fled in June of 1971. I know that Bill was unfortunately and unwittingly bestowed with ultimate responsibility and accountability for all the people who lived on the land (the good eggs and the bad). He had to answer to the reactionary,vindictive society at large of that confusing era. I know he was faced with a drawn-out battle with the bureaucracy and powers-that-be. For some inexplicable reason, this man became a catalyst for this most amazing phenomena to occur, Wheelers Ranch, history in the making! His widespread connection to a vast amount of human beings is truly astounding. The why and how of it all I don't really understand, but I am forever grateful for the gift he inadvertantly provided. His innocent purchase of that 300-odd acres in the mid 60's changed numerous peoples lives forever. "It is all a circle."

Bill Wheeler in his painting hat - 1993 THE RETURNING
"Bye, see you next year." I said to my once lost but now found family. Once again I began trudging alone up that winding din road. Once again I did not turn to look back (though not because of Lots' wife this time). I did not look back because I did not need to. Everything was as it should be.
A long forgotten Wheelers tune popped into my head: "The stove pipes busted, but the wood still burns." I smiled to myself and hummed along as I continued onward.

Ramon: Jeanie and John (Cable Car) Nelson were married on April 22 (Earth Day) 1997 at the Bay View Yacht Club in San Francisco, much to the joy of their friends and tribesfolk. Later that year, on a trip to the family homestead in Wisconsin, Jeanie wrote the following.

Jeanie and John (Cable Car) Nelson, 11/7/97: Well, here we are in Madison, Wisconsin, again! The leaves till cling to the oak trees and it's been cloudy for days. Feels a little like a really long night. We left San Francisco on October 23rd at 4:45 A.M. in our new suburban, towing a U-haul trailer containing our big massage chair, some picnic furniture and some treasures. We made a comfortable bed in the back of the Suburban and figured we'd drive straight through, taking turns driving and sleeping.

We stopped in Lovelock, Nevada, and learned that three lug bolts had sheared off the U-Haul's right wheel. So we were there a couple of hours while U-Haul replaced the lug bolts. We noticed at this time that both tires on the trailer were in bad shape, with huge gouges cut out of the tread. We pointed this out to the man repairing the wheel, and he said that U-Haul puts truck tires that are no longer safe on the trucks on these trailers, and there was nothing to worry about because these tires don't blow through the tread. If they were going to blow, they'd blow out the side. No problem.
The Weather Channel on the TV in the bar said the storm would be past by Friday noon. No problem. We figured if we kept going, we'd outrun it by morning. John said he'd drive, because he had experience. I was only too glad to let him. I took a nap in the back. John woke me up to help navigate through Salt Lake City. He still wanted to drive some more, so I let him. It was snowing pretty heavily by then. I felt safe, so I went back to napping.
When we stopped for gas in Wyoming, John said he was sleepy and asked if I would drive for a while. I drove about twenty minutes. It was very confusing to try to drive with the snow flying straight at my face, and it was so thick that I really couldn't see. So I pulled into a rest stop and crawled into the sleeping bag with John. In the morning, we waited until the snow plow went by, then we set out to find breakfast. It was still showing hard, but it wasn't so confusing in the daylight, and besides, John was driving again. We passed Rawlins going about 40 mph. The big trucks would fly by and practically bury us in slush.
We were heading up the side of Elk Mountain. It's a very small mountain, really, but it's very treacherous even when it's sunny and clear because the wind gusts something awful there. We slowed to 25 mph and kept climbing and slipping and sliding. We decided to get a motel room on the other side of the mountain and wait out the storm. Then the trailer began to swerve back and forth, at first just a little, then bigger and bigger swerves until the front of the car touched the marker on the side of the road. That was when the trailer swerved so much that it turned us completely around! Then it dragged our beautiful car off the road and down a small embankment, and flipped the car over on the driver's side and slid to a muddy, mushy stop. Thank goodness snow is soft!

John & Jeanie all hitched up!

No one was hurt -- we both checked ourselves. The passenger door was straight up and it was hard to find footing to climb out. I didn't want to step on John's face and the steering wheel kept turning, but finally I was sitting like a monkey on our overturned car. I didn't want to jump down to the ground because then I wouldn't be able to get back to John. Pretty soon a pick-up truck stopped, and I jumped down from my perch and the man helped John get out of the car. They rocked the car back onto its wheels. The trailer never turned over. It came loose from the trailer hitch. So the man went to call the tow truck, and John and I sat in our car, which was still operational. We had heat and tunes and each other. We also had a CB radio, so we could hear the truck drivers making jokes about "some more people having an adventure in moving."
There were so many accidents on Elk Mountain that it took the tow truck two hours to come and get us. Then it took another hour to get our car and the U-Haul out of the ditch and headed in the right direction on the freeway. The U-Haul had had a blow-out, probably out of the side of the tire since "those tires don't blow out the tread."
We spent the night sleeping on the cement floor of the National Guard armory in Rawlins. John played cards until late with other happy campers. We met a young woman named Amanda who was driving alone from Madison to San Francisco, and we met a young couple, Sara and Dave, from Boulder, Colorado. Sara and Dave were coming through Rawlins to get to Rock Springs to rescue his sisters who had been stranded by this very same storm. All the roads leaving Rawlins were closed. The next night we found a motel room with two queen-sized beds. We shared the room with Sara and Dave.
Sunday morning we were on the road again. 287 North to Casper was open, and from there we'd go to Buffalo,Wyoming, and catch Highway 90 where we heard there was very little snow. Sure enough, it wasn't bad. We got a motel room in Buffalo, and hit the road again by 6:30 A.M. The next night we spent in the back of the Suburban, snug as bugs, in a Minnesota rest stop. Minnesota has the very best rest stops. Check them out some time! For one thing, they have really interesting architecture, and then they are clean, warm, well lit and some of them have 24-hour attendants to keep them nice.
I was so glad to finally get to our little house in the woods! I still am. We arrived home at 12:01 P.M. on November 1st. We raked the front yard the day after we came back, and the back yard the next, and we've been resting up ever since. But I'm beginning to feel like seeing what's going on in the world.
The Suburban will be in the shop for a week having bent and broken parts replaced and a new paint job. Then it will be as good as new. You should see the duct tape job we did on the driver's side rear view mirror so that we could drive. We bought a curved mirror the same size as the broken mirror and taped it to the mirror fixture. Then we used more tape to attach the fixture to the car. Then, after searching for artist supplies in Rawlins, we painted the duct tape to almost the same color as the car. You can still tell from a distance, though.
Halloween was really warm, and we had so many Trick-or-Treaters that John had to go to the store for more candy. I have some bulbs to plant before the ground freezes. I have not adjusted to the cold yet, but it's going to have to be done soon!
San Francisco was so beautiful and warm and sunny. Such a contrast to Madison now. Oh well, the house here is very comfortable, and we hardly ever have a pressing need to leave it. Sort of like bears snuggling in for the winter! That's all for now. Love,

John and Jeanie seal their marriage with a nuptial kiss

That's all for now, folks! Please mail in updated mailing addresses, and if y'all can help fatten up the MOST bank account, please send some $ along.)

Future Projects

A Second Edition of The Morning Star Scrapbook, on better paper and with more photos and more information!

The Wheeler/Ahimsa Ranch Photo Album -- let's get this one happening! We just need $ and volunteer energy!

Home Free Home, a history of Morning Star and Wheeler/Ahimsa ranches, told through many viewpoints and voices. A first edition is up on this San Francisco Digger site, but hopefully will continue to be added to!

In the words of the Mighty Avengers' totem woodpecker, "Badaba!"

Back Cover of Jodi Mitchell's Teenage Journal, (another future project).

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