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) tags: article,community,counterculture,history,oregon Tags ==== article community counterculture history oregon