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# 2025-05-11 - The Commune Comes To America | |
LIFE Vol 67, No. 3 | |
July 18, 1969 | |
Youthful pioneers leave society to seek, from the land and one | |
another, a new life. | |
Cover Image | |
Photographed by John Olson | |
Teepee Foundation | |
At a commune in the wilderness (above), a young man begins work on | |
his new home, a teepee. At right, in front of another teepee, he and | |
fellow members of the commune gather together for a group portrait. | |
Group Portrait | |
Their hair and dress, their pioneer spirit, even their Indian teepees | |
evoke the nation's frontier beginnings. These young people are | |
members of a commune, which they have created for themselves as a new | |
and radical way of living. Scores of these communes are springing up | |
all across the U.S. In the wilderness areas of the West, Southwest, | |
and New England, the new settlers build their own homes--adobe huts, | |
log cabins, geodesic domes--share their money and labor and legislate | |
their own laws and taboos. | |
The youthful pioneers, unlike the earlier Americans who went into the | |
wilderness to seek their fortunes, are refugees from affluence. | |
Though there have been previous such experiments in the U.S., the new | |
communes represent an evolution of the philosophy and life-style of | |
the hippie movement. Most members have fled the big cities--New | |
York's East Village, San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury--where they were | |
beset by crime, police harassment, squalor, and disillusionment. | |
They seek in the land, and in one another, meaningful work, mutual | |
love, and spiritual rebirth. Their religion is rooted in many | |
faiths--among them Christianity, Hinduism, and Zen Buddhism. Some | |
communes permit LSD and marijuana, but many now discourage their use | |
or even ban them. Some take a broad view of sexual morality, but in | |
many communes couples practice traditional American monogamy, and | |
sexual behavior is often surprisingly pristine. Young children, | |
however, are raised by all adults and by the older children in the | |
commune, which itself is often referred to as "the Family." | |
Many of the settlers dropped out of teaching and other professions | |
and are particularly ill-prepared to carve a living out of nature. | |
The winters are harsh, the earth hard. Often they resort to shopping | |
at the nearest stores. They also find that many of the constraints | |
they sought to escape are necessary--an orderly work routine, | |
community health regulations. They almost invariably encounter | |
hostility and even violence from local people. Another threat is | |
unwanted visitors--the sightseers from "straight" society and weekend | |
hippies who descend upon them to freeload. To protect their privacy, | |
members of the commune shown on these pages asked LIFE not to reveal | |
their location but to describe it merely as "somewhere in the woods." | |
Hexagonal Lodge | |
The focal point of the commune is the hexagonal lodge (above), which | |
includes a kitchen area with a cast-iron stove and a library with 500 | |
well-read books, including volumes on the occult and crop raising. | |
Wood Splitting | |
A commune member, Will (above), splits logs to build up the 90-cord | |
stockpile of firewood needed for next winter. At right, two women | |
go into the two-acre garden to pick vegetables for the day's main | |
meal. | |
Garden | |
Shortly after dawn the sharp ring of a Buddhist gong starts the day | |
for the 41-member Family in the commune. Most of the day is devoted | |
to labor. They must plant, cultivate, and harvest vegetables, | |
supplement their diet with fishing trips (right), and split and store | |
logs for the long winter. The adults range from 17 to 32 and | |
represent widely diverse backgrounds. One was an actor, one an | |
office worker, another a welder. They started the commune 14 months | |
ago after making a down payment on 240 acres of woodland. They faced | |
problems from the start: they miscalculated the harshness of their | |
first winter and ran out of firewood. They still have not realized | |
their hope of becoming self-sufficient--members use their savings and | |
money from part-time work to pay off their mortgage and buy supplies | |
in town 20 miles away. Most of the 11 children are very young, and | |
there is as yet no provision for formal schooling. The older | |
children teach the younger ones, and they themselves are taught by | |
their parents when they express an interest. But soon, under state | |
law, several of the children will have to attend a licensed school. | |
Family Photo | |
Alone in their teepee at the end of a day of communal work, | |
meditation, and play, a family within the Family reads from a book of | |
fairy tales before the children's bedtime. Ron, 36, a former computer | |
programmer at a New York bank and his wife, Nancy, who went to | |
Radcliffe, brought their daughter and 4-year-old son to the commune a | |
year ago. Before they joined the commune their search for faith had | |
led them to become Quakers and to civil rights work... We chose to | |
devote our lives to God and the learn the lessons He teaches in the | |
earth. | |
Bible Reading | |
In the lodge, above, Nancy reads to herself from the Bible. The | |
children of the commune (below) are expected to help in occasional | |
chores in the garden and kitchen, but spend much of their time in the | |
surrounding woods hunting for berries or playing make-believe. | |
Children | |
Meal | |
Above, Sandoz and Twig serve themselves a midday meal of rice, | |
vegetables, and fruit. Most of the members do not eat meat. At | |
right, as the coolness of the night comes to the mountains, Ama sits | |
in silent meditation in the teepee he built last summer. He is | |
building a log cabin nearby where he plans to spend the winter with | |
his wife Evening Star and their expected child. | |
Ama Meditating | |
Although the commune may look like an early American frontier | |
establishment, it certainly doesn't sound like one. On the contrary, | |
the pronouncements of members seem to have little connection with the | |
realities of the world they have left behind. | |
"We are entering the time of tribal dance," one member of the Family | |
has written, "as we go to live in teepees, celebrate our joys | |
together, and learn to survive. We go to a virgin forest with no | |
need for the previously expensive media of electric technology. The | |
energy we perceive within ourselves is beyond electric; it is atomic, | |
it is cosmic, it is bliss." | |
All the members speak in such mystical jargon of their new experience | |
in the wilderness. Many say that taking LSD opened their eyes | |
originally. Now they do not forbid drugs but they frown on their | |
use. They regard chopping wood, planting seeds, and washing clothes | |
as acts of creative meditation which contribute as much to the | |
spiritual well-being of the workers as to the good of the commune. | |
They say that the hard work strips them of their city frustrations. | |
Members have written a commune credo: "Getting out of the cities | |
isn't hard, only concrete is. Get it together. This means on your | |
own, all alone, or with a few of your friends. Buy land. Don't | |
rent. Money manifests. Trust. Plant a garden, create a center. | |
Come together." | |
Each evening before dinner members join hands and stand in a silent | |
circle for two or three minutes. Then they chant the Hindu holy | |
syllable "Om" which trails off into the night sounds of the forest. | |
In such a ceremony last Thanksgiving, an ordained minister came to | |
the commune and married all the Family members to one another and | |
then united a number of couples in matrimony. "We were standing in a | |
big circle and a cold rain began to fall," a woman recalls. "It was | |
like being married and baptized too." | |
The commune has its share of everyday squabbling, and a little | |
incident can bring the loftiest ideals abruptly back to earth. | |
During a recent three-day fast by the group, one member whose spirit | |
was weakened walked seven miles to a gas station to buy a candy bar. | |
When the others spotted the empty wrapper sticking out of his back | |
pocket, they laughed--and then /everyone/ continued the fast. | |
A secluded creek (following page) used by the commune for swimming | |
also provides the opportunity for a mother to grab an unwilling | |
daughter and soap her hair. | |
Creek Bathing | |
* * * | |
# Happy Hippy of Days Past by Joan Momsen | |
A friend of JCHS brought us a collection of photos and papers from | |
the past. It will take weeks, maybe months before we can identify | |
the photos, if at all, and find a place to put the new collection. I | |
started to look through the papers and photos and found a LIFE | |
magazine from July 18, 1969. I immediately recognized the cover and | |
recalled the story from 53 years ago. | |
In 1969 one needed film to take a photo, then a lab to develop it. | |
Taking, developing, and printing photos was time consuming and | |
expensive. Many people did not even own a camera, far distance from | |
today where people use the camera on their cell phone on a regular | |
basis. | |
This old magazine recalled what part I had in the publishing of the | |
article, although nothing official but just being there and providing | |
a service. I was working at the Greyhound Depot which also handled | |
Western Union. The cover story was about a commune near Wolf Creek. | |
No mention of Wolf Creek or even Oregon is in the article. There are | |
just photos and words about a group of young Americans who gave up | |
what we might call a civilized life to move into the woods, form a | |
commune with other of like desires, and live off the land. Most of | |
us "normal folks" called them hippies and hippy settlements were all | |
around us in Southern Oregon. Some were not a problem, but others | |
were, or at least their neighbors thought they were a problem. These | |
"kids" usually under the age of 30 just wanted to get away from it | |
all. Some might have been getting away from the draft and the | |
Vietnam War. Only the individual hippy could tell you why and that | |
may have changed from day to day. | |
As an Agent for Western Union, we were basically sworn to secrecy, | |
and could not talk about what we had access to. I am not going to | |
divulge some things I remember about using Western Union telegraph | |
lines because I am not sure if there are any limits of time about | |
such things as destinations. I still laugh to myself when I think of | |
the abbreviations we used when sending many "wires" at the same time. | |
I remember sending dozens of "night letters" to Senator Wayne Morse | |
one night. I do not remember what the issue was, but lots of folks | |
sent wires to the Senator that night. The address was Senator Wayne | |
Morse, Senate Office Building, Washington D.C. which came out on a | |
single line as Senator Wayne Morse, SOB, WashDC. | |
For your information a "night letter" was a telegram that had more | |
words for a cheaper rate and was to be delivered the first thing the | |
next morning. Night letters were what I sent for the LIFE | |
photographer. He came in each night to send undeveloped film | |
canisters, 35mm, to Portland where they would be picked up at the | |
Portland Greyhound Depot and delivered to the airport and sent air | |
express to the final destination. In this case, I think it was New | |
York City which in night letter shorthand was NYC. | |
The photographer would come in just before the last northbound bus | |
would depart, around 8 in the evening. He would also drop off a few | |
hand written pages to be sent to NYC. This was the night letter and | |
it turned out to be the basis of the LIFE article. I got to read the | |
story before it was published. The photographer told me the things | |
written and photographed were in the Wolf Creek area but I was not to | |
tell anyone. I did not. After 53 years I remember reading and | |
typing the day's commentary, but do not remember if I kept an | |
original copy. He may have returned for it after he went and got | |
himself some non-hippy fast food. | |
I did not use Morse Code. We had what we called a teleprinter. | |
[Also known as a TTY.] It was like an electric typewriter, only | |
bigger and more foreboding. I hit certain keys to send to certain | |
areas and then I just typed out what was given to me. If a typo was | |
made, I put XXX behind the error and each time it came out on the | |
other end, the XXX and the word before it was eliminated. Where a | |
Western Union office had the message print out on a long, thin strip | |
of paper, they would just cut behind the XXX and glue the rest of the | |
message over it. If you remember telegrams, you understand and if | |
you don't, sorry about that. | |
So over a period of a couple of weeks, I would talk to the LIFE | |
photographer each night, write up the waybill for the film shipped to | |
Portland and then send his night letter. I knew what was happening | |
and so did many others in the area. Seems that many of us were aware | |
of what the hippies were doing. Those of us that were "in the loop" | |
knew about it when the magazine published, but I am not sure there | |
are still people that did not know it was so near to Grants Pass and | |
if they were to take a guess, they probably thought these particular | |
hippies were in the Illinois Valley. | |
The Editors' Note from the LIFE magazine of July 18, 1969 sums up the | |
situation: | |
# Two young men in a forest commune | |
> Our lead story this week, which depicts life in one of the new | |
> youth communes sprouting up around the country, is the work of two | |
> of the youngest members of our staff, John Stickney, 23, and | |
> Photographer John Olson, 22. Stickney, who covers the youth scene | |
> for us, looks as little like the conventional image of a reporter | |
> as Olson, who covers the White House, resembles the stereotyped | |
> elbows-and-flash-gun photographer. Both are coolly intense, well | |
> bethatched, bell-bottomed, and bespectacled. | |
> | |
> "I get in trouble all the time because I was too involved," says | |
> Stickney, slouching, with one boot resting on the ankle of the | |
> other, his Navajo necklace dangling down his navy blue shirt. | |
> "It's not supposed to be professional. But I felt I had to get | |
> involved in this story, or I wasn't going to get an accurate | |
> impression of the commune life." | |
> | |
> The commune dwellers are suspicious of journalists as they are of | |
> the rest of the society they have deliberately abandoned. Before | |
> Stickney and Olson could begin their coverage, they had to win the | |
> community's trust as individuals. Only after a solemn one-hour | |
> powwow in the community's pine-log lodge were Olson and Stickney | |
> accepted--and then solely on the condition that LIFE would not | |
> reveal the location of the commune. | |
> | |
> "It was the first time I have had to sleep on the ground since | |
> leaving Vietnam," says Olson, who covered the war first as | |
> soldier-photographer, then as a member of the LIFE staff. "But at | |
> least I didn't have to worry about being mortared." He reports a | |
> preference for C-rations over the commune diet of grain, rice, and | |
> lettuce. "We shipped our film every day just so I could get a | |
> cheeseburger--20 miles away." Stickney, a businessman's son who | |
> grew up in Columbus, Ohio and majored in art at Williams College, | |
> took time out from interviewing to learn how to chop wood and help | |
> tote logs out of the forest. Before Olson and Stickney had | |
> completed their coverage, the members of the commune accepted them | |
> as "brothers" and invited them to the family gathering known as | |
> "the meeting of the spirit." | |
> | |
> Both found themselves subtly changed by their stay in the commune. | |
> "I went there feeling very suspicious," Olson says, "and I still | |
> wouldn't drop out--but I can understand now how they would." | |
> Stickney, remembering the haunting notes of a flute that echoed in | |
> the midnight stillness, wants someday to go back. "Out there," he | |
> says, "you can see and breath, and smell things." | |
> | |
> Ralph Graves, Managing Editor | |
I suppose that tucked in the attics throughout Southern Oregon, one | |
can find a few copies of this particular edition. Storing a large | |
group of magazines can be tedious and I know because my father saved | |
LIFE magazine from 1936 to 1972 and stored them in our attic. When | |
Rogue Community College opened, we donated them all to their library. | |
I doubt if they still have them, but they were neatly stacked in the | |
library for a few years. | |
When the July 18, 1969 copy arrived at our research library, I | |
stopped what I was doing and read the article and looked at the | |
photos. I had not seen a copy since about 1972 and I just had to | |
share my memories. | |
* * * | |
This commune is referred to as FAMILY OF MYSTIC ARTS in the | |
LIST OF COMMUNES section on pages 47 and 48 of Steal This Book. | |
Steal This Book by Abbie Hoffman | |
The members of this commune played a pivotal role in Vortex I, | |
a psychedelic rock festival outside of Estacada, Oregon in 1970. | |
This rock festival was inspired by Woodstock. The participants | |
went on to organize the first Rainbow Gathering. | |
Vortex I (Wikipedia) | |
Vortex I gallery | |
Vortex I ebook (PDF) | |
Rainbow Family (Wikipedia) | |
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