Copyright 2001 - 2020 James Thomas Westbrook --- All Rights Reserved --- The author exercises any and all rights of exclusivity he is lawfully entitled to pursuant U.S. Copyright Law as a literary property. --- "1979" is a copyrighted non-fiction book technically speaking, and was first registered with the U.S. Copyright Office on December 31st 2001. ---- The author also exercises any and all copyright protection he is entitled to as a graphic artist,regarding the copyrighted photo art montages included thereon each and every one of the title pages of Parts 1 through 13 as well as the various Sub-Parts contained in Parts 1 through 13 of "1979". This also applies to the Epilogue to it. --- Any and all inquiries regarding "1979"/1979westbrook.com may be submitted to me by e-mail at: 79westbrook@protonmail.com or Westbrook79@Yandex.Com

Part 4 -- Sub Part 7
"1979" / 1979westbrook.com


Part 4 Sub Pt 7 -- This Sub Part describes the week leading up to and the frey and bloody weekend at 'Callahan Days' from July 20, 1975 through July 26, 1975

Part 4 Sub Pt 7
-- This Sub Part describes the week leading up to and the frey and bloody weekend at 'Callahan Days' from July 20, 1975 through July 26, 1975 and most importantly Karen's inadvertent, pain, drug and alcohol induced revelations of the 'Plans For Me Up North' which also put me wise to the fact that my trip to L.A. and Covina two months before was a carefully prearranged and manipulated so that I would bring up Greg to Yreka to play his FBI informant role in the 'Plans For Me Up North' along with Karen my Portland Girlfriend, and her friend Kathy Doyle from Portland.

-- The night after Karen's slip of the lip about the 'Plans For Me Up North', Portland Karen and Kathy led me to dark and noisy corner of the 'Callahan Days' music festival where' Greg was ritualistically stabbed and then shoved into my arms, all awash in blood from the dozen or so knife wounds in his back. -- These are some warm fucking memories to think about when I got old.

Part 4 Sub Pt 7 
-- This Sub Part describes the week leading up to and the frey and bloody weekend at 'Callahan Days' from July 20, 1975 through July 26, 1975 and most importantly Karen's inadvertent, pain, drug and alcohol induced revelations of the 'Plans For Me Up North' which also put me wise to the fact that my trip to L.A. and Covina two months before was a carefully prearranged and manipulated so that I would bring up Greg to Yreka to play his FBI informant role in the 'Plans For Me Up North' along with Karen my Portland Girlfriend, and her friend Kathy Doyle from Portland.

-- The night after Karen's slip of the lip about the 'Plans For Me Up North', Portland Karen and Kathy led me to dark and noisy corner of the 'Callahan Days' music festival where' Greg was ritualistically stabbed and then shoved into my arms, all awash in blood from the dozen or so knife wounds in his back. -- I was 22 years-old at the time and these are some warm fucking memories of to think about in my waning years.




Image link above to Ref Page 1 -- Part 4 Sub Pt 7____



Karen's Friend From Portland Kathy Comes Down To Yreka Visit July 20th -- Karen's Plans To Spend Time With Kathy -- I Went To Work And Greg Partied Around Town -- We All Planned To Spend The Following Weekend At The 'Callahan Days' Blue Grass & Rock Music Festival July 25 - 27, 1975

It was just after the 4th of July in 1975 that Karen, Greg and I settled into the upstairs apartment of an old turn of the century era house on located on Lane St. at the corner of West St.in Yreka and it was only some days later in mid July that Karen my live-in Girlfreind informed me that she wanted to invite her old school chum from Monroe High in Portland, Kathy Doyle to come to Yreka and spend the week with us.

Greg and I had no objections to Kathy's visit and as the place came partially furnished with a large comfortable couch in the nicely sized livingroom where she could sleep and play the stereo at night, it seemed alright to both of us.

Our dog, 'Roxy' a Cocker mix puppy that Karen had insisted on taking and bringing back to Yreka during our Christmas '74 visit to Portland. This was over my initial objections, and later the puppy had caught distemper and had to be euthenized, then only the month before in June '75 and so I figured the visit might cheer Karen up bit and besides I could hardly say no in any event.

The plan was that Kathy was to arrive at our place on Lane St. on Sunday July 20th and stay with us on through Sunday July 27th and then leave for Portland, on the following morning July 28, 1975. Karen who then collecting unemployment and had plenty of time to spend with her friend.

As for me I would just go on about my business doing some building repair work in downtown Yreka for our former landlord, and then return home to relax read the local papers, or an L.A. Times or a S.F. Chronicle sometimes and whatever latest issues of TIME and Newsweek that I had on hand as I relaxed with some cigatettes, a 'joint' or two and sometimes a beer.

This was followed by the usual 'fun & games' with Karen at night unless she had a headache which wasn't too often at the time. Sometime we made a point of staying up past midnight just to listen to the only FM rock station that we could pick up in Yreka, as there was no decent FM radio reception there. At precisely midnight though we could pick up KZAP from Sacramento which played the latest rock and a lot of best music from the late '60's and early '70's rock, all set in format of the '60 underground rock stations, though with a few more commericals in the mid 1970's.


The highlight of Portland Kathy's July '75 visit was to join Karen, Greg on a weekend camping trip that had planned to spend at the 10th Annual 'Callahan Days' music festival located there in Callahan, that ran from Friday July 25 on through Sunday July 27, 1975.

Callahan, California, was in 1975 an unicorporated community, with way less than a hundred people, and located about 30 miles south by southwest of Yreka. -- Callahan had a general store, a small post office and a few other buildings primarily strung out along Highway 3 that provided various supplies and services to the local rural home owners, ranchers and those who lived on mining claims nearby.

In the course of my employment as a chainman and for a local Civil Engineer then only months before, from late October through December 1974, I had made a number of trips to Callahan, as well as some of the small towns and ranches that were located in and around the Callahan area. -- So by July '75 I was already somewhat familiar with the twists, turns, rises and dips of Highway 3 as well as some of the more prominent landmarks along the way.

During the 3 trips or possibly 4 trips that Karen and I had made from Yreka to Portland, during that time period from December '74 through April 1975, Karen and I visited Kathy who then lived with mom and step-dad Southeast Portland.

Karen brought me along on one of her visits to Kathy's folks place when in December '74 and we were playing pool in the basement and drinking beers. When I left the girls in the basement rec room and went upstairs to a door to that I thought was the bathroom, I mistakenly opened the door to the master bedroom, where Kathy's mom and step-dad were sitting on the bed fully clothed and talking quietly.

Before I could say a word, step dad pointed a pistol at me and uttered some words. -- I apologized for my mistake, excused myself and then cautiously proceeded down the hall to actual door of the bathroom, where I took a nice long 'leak'.

I was introduced to Kathy by Karen, along with Karen's other Portland friends during my very first visit to Portland, during my first visit to Portland there two weeks there during the first half of September '74. -- This was during an unplanned sidetrip there when my traveling partner and I who were hitch-hiking to our then new home in Montague, California, a small cowtown located about 20 miles south of the Oregon border and about 8 miles east Yreka and Interstate 5.

My first to Portland from September 3rd through mid-September '74 is covered in Part 4 Sub Part 2 of "1979" which you may read about by simply clicking on the image link below.

Although Kathy Doyle may have drove her own car, a late model Datsun B 210 to make the 6 hour drive from Portland to Yreka in July '75,
I don't seem to recall seeing Kathy's car there during her visit.

It's possible that Kathy may have driven her Datsun coupe from Portland to Yreka during her July '75 visit, but I feel that I would have most likely remembered seeing Kathy and Karen driving around town in it.

Another reason that I believe Kathy didn't drive down to Yreka is that I seem to vaguely recall that Karen told me something about Kathy's having caught a ride from a fellow co-worker or possibly a friend from Portland who was driving to some destination spot in California and as Yreka was just over the California-Oregon border, on Interstate 5 it really wasn't any trouble for this person to drop Kathy off in Yreka, on the way down, continue to her destination and pick Kathy up in Yreka on the way back up to Portland.

The more I think about it I think that Kathy's ride-mate's destination was somewhere in L.A. or possibly the 'O.C.' at least that's what I was told by Kathy. -- After the firey and violently bloody events that were to then soon to take place during 'Callahan Days' that following weekend of July 25th through July 26th, I didn't believe anything that Karen or Kathy had told me about the supposed reasons for Kathy's visit or how Kathy may have arrived in Yreka on Sunday July 20, 1975. -- For all I know this arrival date may have been a lie as well under the circumstances.

At this point in my life in late July '75 during Kathy's Yreka visit, I was busy most of that week working, sanding, patching the apartment house next to 'The Deli' beer & wine bar in Yreka, where I lived with Karen from November '74 until early June of 1975, as described in Part 4 Sub Parts 3 and 4 of "1979".

As Kathy's visit with Karen seemed to cheer her up and gave her things to do with her best friend from Portland, when I wasn't working I had a little extra time to myself and so I would drive out to some open areas in my truck to do a little landscape drawing and make a few visits to the local library to catch up the magazines and newspapers.

During the week leading up to the 'Callahan Days' festivities from July 25 through July 27, '75 -- Greg was busy with his usual routine of running around town with his new found friends, partying, drinking and fucking every local girl he could get his hands on, including Karen when I wasn't around.

This was hardly what I had expected when I was being 'played' in Covina in the pre-dawn hours of Memorial Day, May 26,1975 and I had invited Greg to return north with me to Yreka, as a then remorsefull Greg was saying how he wanted to 'kick' his drug habit and start a new life.

Smoking 'Weed' & Listening To Rock Music At The Upstairs Lane St. Apartment With Karen, Kathy & Greg
My Loaded Question
About Pocatello's Location -- Karen's Stupid Lie About It Being Near Boise Confirms My Suspicions And Raises New Questions As To The Underlying Motives Behind Karen's Solo Trips To Idaho In November '74 & May '75 -- This On July 24th The Day Before We Left For 'Callahan Days' '75

On July 24th, Thursday afternoon Karen, Greg and I were all assembled there at our upstairs apartment on Lane St. along with Kathy, our house guest from Portland. We were all chatting, smoking cigarettes and 'weed' as music played on in background thereon Karen's stereo.
As there were no FM underground format, rock stations that we could tune in to because of the distance and mountains near Yreka, we had to rely on selections of rock music from Karen's rock album collection and as well my own which was much smaller.

The top left window is where the long rectangular living room was then located, behind the center window was a kind of cozy little nook with a kitchen table.

The window at the top right was to the bedroom that Karen and I then shared. -- Greg's bedroom was located there in the rear as was a fair sized bathroom next to that.

During Kathy's visit, Karen and Kathy had made a special trip to Ashland, a town just over the Oregon border a little about 30 miles away, ostensibly to return a defective pressing of 'Steely Dan's latest rock album, ironically entitled 'Katy Lied'. I drove up with Karen when she bought the album only the week before, along with few rock music LP albums during our drive to Ashland or very possibly Medford.

The replacement copy that Karen and Kathy returned with earlier after their trip to Ashland or possibly Medford played perfectly over her stereo as the four of us all sat there talking, smoking cigarettes and 'weed' chatting it up.

Karen was mostly talking to Kathy who was telling Karen about then recent events in Portland, and Greg and I talked about the local scene there in Yreka, how it was different from that part of L.A. County we were from and some of Greg's funny encounters with the people there in Yreka.

I suppose that the primary reason that the four of us were all there in the livingroom of the upstairs apartment on Lane St. on that hot Thursday afternoon of July 24th, was that Karen and I had asked Greg to be there so that we could go over some details regarding our plans for the following day, a weekend camping trip there to the 10th Annual 'Callahan Days' rock and 'blue grass' music festival set to take placefrom Friday July 25th through July 27, 1975.

This outdoor music venue at which the four of us planned to camp out, reportedly had a few basics such as port-o-sans, both potable and drinking water and other amenities would find there at most any rock festival.

So as to better describe to Portland Kathy what to expect at 'Callahan Days', Karen, Greg and I told Kathy about our then recent experiences and the mostly enjoyable time that the three of us had had during the 'FUBAR' festival that was held in a meadow in some remote wooded area situated about 10 miles or possibly more from McCloud, during the weekend of May 30th through June 1st 1975. McCloud was then a small town, about 42 miles east by southeast of Yreka.

We joked and laughed a bit about Greg's having fallen into one of the fire pits at the FUBAR fest, whilst he was drunk and stoned on drugs, and how he had to be pulled out of there quickily lest he would have died. -- I'll come back to these FUBAR festival '75 memories a bit later in this Sub Part -- Part 4 Sub Part 7 of "1979" decribing the firey, bizarre and bloody circumstances and events of 'Callahan Days' '75.




It was there during weekend at the FUBAR near McCloud from May 30th through June 1st that these psychedelic drugs that I had been given and had taken had invoked a kind introspective mood in me which greatly enhanced my mental focus and abilities to assess and evaluate, the then ongoing, omnipresent conspiracy creeping in around me from all sides therein the then recent past as detailed therein preceding Sub Parts of Part 4, Sub Part 2 through Sub Part 6 of "1979".

Now here it was just two months later in late July '75 and my powers of observation and internal radar were all tuned up and ready to go for anything might possibly happen there at 'Callahan Days' and yet at the same time I seriously doubted that I would have anything but a good time there.
Perhaps it was just wishfull thinking on my part, hoping for a laid back holiday weekend without any weird ass events with apparent secret agendas behind them as was the case during Easter Weekend '75 in San Francisco as described in Part 4 Sub Part 4 of "1979".
I just wanted to loose myself for during the 'Callahan Days' weekend, enjoying small crowds of happy young people enjoying themselves and other and some rock musicians who possibly really knew how to play and what to play along with the 'blue grass' music that I usually enjoyed unlike most all kinds of country and western music that I didn't. I had mixed feelings on blues as was the case with country rock.rea
What I needed was a mellow and laid back weekend in the country, getting 'high', enjoying the music and sleeping under the stars with girlfriend in my sleeping bag away from town.

'Callahan Days' was described to me by some of the Yreka locals I knew there as more of a main stream event than the 'FUBAR' festival was, and thus more suitable for families with kids, mountain folks, cowboys and the locals from the other towns who reportedly mixed in well with those long haired 'pot' smokers' sometimes referred to as 'hippies' who would also make the scene there as well.

I assumed that there would be with some Native Americans from what was left of the local tribes and perhaps some Mexicans as well. As I never saw any Black People there in the Yreka area I didn't think that I would see any at 'Callahan Days' unless they were musicians or possibly associated with the various bands performing there.

My general impression was that the weekend 'turn out' would mostly be locals with a small number of visitors from the big city such as Karen's friend Kathy from Portland was, somewhere around a thousand people, but then these outdoor festivals sometimes drew unexpected last minute audiences whereby the thousand or so might possibly double during the height of the music festival, presumably on Saturday night.

As previously stated, I first became vaguely acquainted with Callahan some months before from late October through December 1974, there in the course of my employment as a chainman for Orel E. Lewis, a civil engineer whose office was in downtown Yreka on Miner St. Lewis had a pretty big spread in around what was closed down mining town called Oro Fino, situated near Fort Jones a small town about 14 miles southwest of Yreka on Highway 3, near the halfway point from Yreka to Callahan .

In 1974-75 Callahan wasn't much more than a few stores and post office located on and near a short stretch of Highway 3 and served as sort of community for he locals and ranchers there who lived in the lived in woods and range land nearby.



According to reliable sources, the last reported lynching in California took place on January 10, 1947 when an African-American male from Weed, and who was also a butcher, was accused of of rustling some cattle from a Yreka doctor, who had a ranch just south of Yreka in Gazelle.

The lynching was carried out by a mob of men who presumably took custody of the accused man in Gazelle, before driving the now condemned man over to Callahan, where the alleged cattle rustler was reportedly wrapped in a calfskin, hanged by the neck from a utility line pole, and then shot full of holes, directly in front of the Callahan School House. ---The local children were treated to this tranquil country scene presumably for educational purposes as they entered the schoolhouse.

It is reported that Siskiyou County and California State officials made no effort to identify or arrest the members of the lynch mob, and later actively covered-up the crime therein the years to come.

My online Wikiipedia research indicates that any and all articles reporting the what has been termed as America's official last lynching in 1947, has been sanitized from most if not all of the microfillm rolls of the newspapers in Siskiyou County. --- This was apparently done in order to conceal any and all traces of the 1947 Callahan lynching. --- Like it never happened.

In all fairness I would also add that the folks I met in Callahan, California in the fall of 1974 and later during 'Callahan Days' on July 25th -26th 1975, were helpfull, kind and respectfull to me in any event.

It should also be noted that it was a Callahan resident, and friend of mine who was to really come though for me in quite a number of ways on July 25th and 26th 1975.

James T. Westbrook July 13, 2015

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> END OF HISTORICAL NOTES ON CALLAHAN CA ABOVE <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

I let Karen and Kathy talk as old friends, especially girls usually do, as Greg and I passed a 'joint' back and forth mostly sat there 'spacing out' a bit as we listened to the rock music in the background, that ranged from Bowie, Led Zeppelin, Hendrix, The Who, some 'Stones', 'The Doors' as well as Skynyrd's 'Pronounced'. We also played some of Karen's favorite albums as well such as Aerosmith, Queen, Blue Oyster Cult, Fleetwood Mac, Jefferson Airplane and so on.

Finally the four of us, Karen, Kathy, Greg and I got around to discussing what we would need to take along for the weekend and what had to be done in the hours before we were to leave for the 'Callahan Days' music festival next day and each of our respective chores as well.

Thus it was first my job to drive Greg to the supermarket in Yreka where he was to buy some food and other items that we would need for our weekend camping trip from a list that that the girls would make up the night before and whilst Greg was shopping, I was to gas up Karen's '66 VW 'Bug', check the oil, air pressure in the tires and clean the windows and then return to the supermarket to check on Greg to see if he was done and then ready for me drive him back to our apartment on Lane St.

This done I would also be free to make the rounds with some of the 'pot' in Yreka in order to 'score' an ounce of some decent 'pot' for the weekend. Meanwhile Karen and Kathy were to get the sleeping bags and other camping gear together, pack some of her clothes to wear as well as some shirts and jeans for me and then tell our landlords who lived downstairs that we would be gone for the weekend so they could keep an eye on the place.

Karen chatted with Kathy about her then recent visit to Pocatello, Idaho where she spent about a week and half at, then two months before in May '75, ostensibly to visit Karen's older sister who was pregnant or possibly had just gave birth, afterwhich Karen drove home to Yreka.

I surmised that Karen's account of her May '75 Idaho trip, as she told it there at the Lane St. apartment on that afternoon of July 24th the day before 'Callahan Days' was accurate, but upon her return to Yreka on Thursday May 29th I also knew that Karen's story about driving a total of almost 1500 miles from Yreka to Pocatello and back was a total fabrication and that there seemed to be a number of omissions in this account of hers as detailed there in Part 4 Sub Part 5 of "1979".

What with all these lies, subterfuge and deceptions it could only mean that Karen had some other ulterior motives for making the trip to Idaho and that was apparently some kind of secret agenda for it as evidenced by all the lies. -- Her return to Yreka on May 29th was apparently timed to coincicide with our departure for the 'FUBAR' near McCloud the next day may 30th during which time I was to be so heavily dosed with LSD and other drugs and alcohol that I forget what little I knew about he Idaho trip, comparable to something like a 'memory wipe during a weekend 'outing' with my friend Greg thereat the FUBAR as a constant diversion to keep me from focusing in on the real situation.

I suppose that it was a case of my subconcious mind having a kind of a more aggressive and suspicious personality, as opposed to my concious mind that was always subliminating and suppresseing much of what I knew and suspected about Karen that prompted me to question Karen on a seemingly minor point on that Thursday afternoon, July 24, 1975.

I would also surmise that the presence and demeanor of Karen's friend Kathy being there at that time may have had a lot to do with it as well.

Having just listened to the 'Steely Dan' rock album 'Katy Lied' and it's lyrics on the subject of lies and lying and Karen's comments only seconds before about her recent trip to Pocatello, I asked Karen just what part of Idaho Pocatello was located, just as if I was only causually curious and making some polite conversation.

Karen quickly replied, or should I say lied to me when she told me that Pocatello was located near Boise, which I knew to be the largest city in the State of Idaho and then continued her conversation with Kathy 'without dropping a stitch' in a most casual and unconcerned manner.

After that I sat back in the cushey arm chair that came with the apartment and acted equally disinterested as I lit up a cigarette and I tilted my head back, listening the to the melody and beat of the rock music playing in the background. Music that was loud enough to enjoy but at a volume level low enough to enable Karen and Kathy to continue their conversation and Greg and I to chat a little with each other as well.

As I sat back there in that arm chair I reflected on how it was that I had so suddenly decided to give Karen this a loaded, 'pop up' question, the answer to which I had already known the answer to
as it was only some weeks before, during Karen's visit to Pocatello, Idaho in May '75 that I made a one of my regular visits to the Siskiyou County Library only a few blocks away from where I then lived in downtown Yreka, that I so capriciously thumbed through a copy of a brand new copy of a Rand McNally U.S. Road Atlas there, which was most prominently displayed there in a quick reference area there at the library.was located near

Being only 22 years-old and having then worked recently on a variety of land and road surveying projects for a local surveyor in Yreka in the Fall of '74, I had developed a sort a keen interest in maps at that time in May '75 and gave the Road Atlas a quick study of the more noteworthy cities and towns in the U.S. in the event that I might possibly consider moving there by myself one day.

By the mid 1970's the design and layouts of most Map Atlases had improved quite a bit since those made in the 1960's and most of them had covenient tables, and guides along with the use subtle pastel colors that not only made them easier to read and underatand, but also gave the humble road maps a kind of artistic quality as well.

During my May '75 perusal of this U.S. Road Atlas, I made my way to the pages for the States of California and Oregon and noted the various routes that Karen and I drove when we went to the coast at Crescent City, California from Yreka, and the towns we passed on our way to Portland, and the route to the northern Oregon Coast where Karen's Dad had a small place near the beach.

I then turned my attention to Pocatello, Idaho as this is where Karen had told that was where her sister Kathy lived and that this was the place that she, Karen had driven over 700 miles to get to.

Karen had gone there in May of '75, ostensibly to see sister Kathy who was then pregnant or possibly had just given birth at the time which I believed was the truth at least in part,

On the map it wasn't hard to notice that Boise was located near the Snake River in south western Idaho, only about 40 miles east of the Oregon State Line and that Pocatello was situated about 200 miles East by South East of Boise and was only about 70 miles or so West of the Wyoming State Line.

This was rather interesting to me at this time in May '75 whereas it was on the very same week that I met Karen in Vacaville,California and made the road trip detour to Portland in September '74, that I met Karen's cousin Terry LaDue who also lived at the large yellow two story house on SE Taylor near 12th in Portland where Karen did, and had rooms on the first floor where I stayed with her for about 2 weeks until returning to my then new home in Montague, California just south of the Oregon border.

The whole scene with Terry seemed a bit odd to me at the time, as he seemed like a covertly gay version of 'John Boy' from the '70's hit
TV show ''The Waltons' that I never cared for, and yet one night he had brought over a rather tall and attractive, auburn haired Amazon, a white 'chick' who came off like a 'hooker' to me somehow.

That old two story house on SE Taylor near 12th struck as some kind of CIA 'safehouse', that I had read about in various magazines and underground newspapers in the early '70's, whereby I then had to wonder iof it was 'wired' for sound and possibly video as well.

As for me it was really neither here nor there if Terry was gay or not, what struck me as being so unaccountably odd, were the possible motives for the overt staging of Terry's intimate moments with the beautiful Amazon chick that was so loud that it was like listening to the sound track to a 'skin flick'. It rather as if Terry was putting on some kind of a 'front' for me as if I should even care.

Terry's overly ripe anti-corporate/anti-establishment comments during the few days that first week of my first ever visit to Portland in September '74 seemed more than a trifle bit too adamant to me and from my past experiences, this was usually an indicator that these guys and in some cases gals, were either police informants and or FBI informants and agent provocatuers as well.

It was there at the end of my first week in Portland in September '74, that my new found 'friend', Terry had followed through with his plans to move to Jackson Hole, Wyoming and that was the last time that I ever saw him, at least throughout the remainder of the 1970's in any event, including the year 1975. I was to see him once again in Portland during the Summer of 1980.

As I studied the Road Atlas at the County Library in Yreka, during that time Karen was Idaho In May '75, I could see that Jackson Hole was located only about 95 miles East by Northeast of Pocatello and wondered just what was the big attraction to that area of Eastern Idaho and Western Wyoming.

This seemed all the more curious to me so as Portland was supposedly America's No. 1 city in 1975, although it had apparently already been pre- designated as such back in September '74 as Karen had told me about it at the time.

Why would Terry, who was claimed to be such anti-corporate radical of sorts move to Idaho, which at the time was borderline fascist and reactionary, there in those waning days of that undeclared War in Vietnam which America was about to lose only some months later in April '75, only three months before the 'Callahan Days' festival that was to take place in July '75.

Much to Idaho's credit though, the people of Idaho did elect Frank Church who in 1975 was one of the best and most patriotic Senators the U.S. has ever seen, as evidenced by his role heading up Church Intelligence Committee then investigating the CIA and Mafia's links to the 1963 'JFK' assassination and the FBI's involvement in the Presidential 'hit' as well.

When I saw how close Pocatello was to Jackson Hole in that Road Atlas in May '75, I had to wonder if Karen wouldn't have driven a bit further, another 140 miles to visit her cousin Terry in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

There was also the possibility that Cousin Terry may have made the 90 mile or so drive from Jackson Hole to Idaho Falls, about an hour and a half by car, whereby Karen could then make the 55 mile drive north there in about 45 minutes or so and they could visit with one and other there in Idaho Falls and perhaps brought sister Kathy along as well.

Having caught Karen in this lie about Pocatello being 30 miles or so away from Boise thereat our apartment on Lane St. in Yreka on July 24, 1975, I decided not say anything as I was not only astonished at the stupidity of this lie, it brought back all these questions that I had originally come to me back in May '75 when I first made a study of the highway routes from Boise to Pocatello, Pocatello to Jackson Hole and so on there in that Road Atlas there at the Siskiyou County Library in Yreka.

Now with this latest lie, which I must admit Karen delivered in a rather casual and well acted, believable manner, I now suddenly had to ask myself just what in the hell is Karen actually doing there in Idaho during her so called visits to Pocatello and who knows where else there in Eastern Idaho and very possibly Jackon Hole and other locations in Western Wyoming as well.

In the minutes just after Karen's ridiculous lie about Pocatello's location, I smoked another 'joint' with Greg and made some enthusiastic comments and jokes about my looking forward to a weekend of partying at 'Callahan Days' there in livingroom as Karen and Kathy chatted it up and made sure not to leave too soon so as to make things seem as normal as possible. -- Now more than ever I must stay in character as the clueless little clown that Karen and Kathy had taken me for and I didn't want to blow it.

I also had to ask myself if there weren't some other little secret agendas and possible staged scernarios awaiting me there at the 'Callahan Days' music festival and how all this might tie-in with Kathy's special trip from Portland to Yreka for 'Callahan Days' as well. -- I somehow sensed that Kathy had some ulterior motives this little July '75 visit to Karen and myself, but I just couldn't see, let alone surmise any possible motives for for this.

Nonetheless I was more than certain that Karen's activities in Idaho were undoubtedly of such a super-secret nature that apparently involved me somehow, as evidenced by Karen's lie to me about the location of Pocatello, Idaho and now with Kathy and Greg on the scene I was more leary than ever.

As I sat there in the apartment on Lane St. with Karen's lie about the geographical location of Pocatello still on my mind as I listened to one of 'Procal Harum's best albums" "A Salty Dog', I managed to quietly reflect on some of more blatantly bizzare aspects of the murder of my friend 'Spud' Helberg in Covina and the police cover-ups that followed, by the Covina cops and L.A. Sheriffs Homicide, all apparently at the behest of the FBI and very probably the CIA as well, then only four years before in July 1971.

During this little afternoon music and 'pot' chat session thereat the place I lived on Lane St. in Yreka on the afternoon of July 24, 1975, I thought very briefly on the weird ass events I experienced during the violent and ominously bizarre Memorial Day weekend I spent at the Kern River, then only two years before in May of 1973.

Click on the image link below to read about the weird and violently bizarre May '73 Memorial Day weekend on the Kern River -- which turned into a full scale campground riot a little over a half-hour after my arrival there, at just before noon Friday May 25, 1973.



Getting Ready For Our 'Callahan Days' Weekend July 25-27, 1975

Karen & Portland Kathy Put Together Our Camping Gear -- Greg Goes Shopping With Our Grocery List -- Getting The Car Ready & Scoring some 'weed' -- 3 Stops At the Supermarket Before Greg Was Finished Shopping


On the morning of Friday July 25, 1975 Karen and Kathy gathered up a few basic cooking and eating utensils and supplies we would need for the weekend and packed some of my clothes as well as theirs. -- They also rolled up the sleeping bags, packed a few towels and such to make ready.

As they did this I drove Greg to the supermarket, where it was Greg's responsibility to buy a couple of cases of beer, some canned food, and other various items that we would need and want that weekend. -- I bought my own cigarettes, as I was sometimes changing brands looking for a satisfying low tar and nicotine smoke. Karen and Kathy both smoked Tarreyton 100's and had plenty of them.

One item that Greg was supposed to buy was a package of disposable cigarette lighters, along with the rest of the items there on the list that Karen, Kathy and I prepared for him.

Whilst Greg was shopping at the supermarket, I was gassing up Karen's VW at local gas station and checking the air pressure in the tires and made sure that the engine oil level was where it should be. I also cleaned the car's windshield and the side windows and clean up the car's interior a bit as I figured that we would need all the room we could get as the VW was sure to packed up full with our gear and the four of us on that 40 mile drive to 'Callahan Days'.

I recall that I had to drive back to the supermarket several times before Greg had finally finished shopping and was there at the checkout stand
in between all this back and forth business I finally managed to pick up an ounce of some pretty good 'weed' that I passed the 'hit' test.

When I returned to the Yreka Supermarket Greg was finally there at the checkstand, and I milled about near the front of the cashier and register as I didn't like waiting in line for too long a time.

It was up there at the checkstand where the packages of plastic Bic lighters and other lighters were all promently displayed, near the single packs of cigarettes, and other related tobacco products.

Bic lighters were on the list that we gave Greg as the four of us, Karen, Kathy, Greg and I were all cigarette smokers, and I was an avid 'pot' smoker as was Greg.

For some reason or other Greg had failed to buy a pack the of the Bic cigarette lighters that we put on his shopping list and I as I was anxious to wrap things up at the supermarket I didn't pay enough attention to Greg to notice that Greg had failed to buy the lighters.

It was this rather simple and seemimgly unimportant failure to buy the lighters that set into motion an incredibly bizarre, firey and bloody chain of circumstances and events that not only radically altered our July '75 weekend at 'Callahan Days' but also set into motion a series of other events that were the deciding factors there in my decision to accept Karen's 'suggestion' to move to Portland with her some weeks later
August 1975.

I had anticipated that Karen was some kind of a 'plant' for the FBI and various other Intel and Police agencies, and that she was inserted into my life with this precise objective within only hours after I had met her there in Vacaville, nearlyeleven months before on 'Labor Day' September 2, 1974.

Having overlooked this seemingly minor omission on Greg's shopping list, Greg and I loaded up the VW 'Bug' with beer and groceries and drove back to the apartment were we lived as we both wanted to get on the road to 'Callahan Days' as soon as possible.


A 'Freaky Friday' Afternoon Drive To 'Callahan Days' With Locals From Yreka, Eastern Siskiyou County & Southern Oregon All Heading South On Highway 3 To 'Callahan Days' -- A Mix Of Families, Hot Rodders, Drunks, Back Woods Drunk Drivers & Lane Jumping Loadies

By the time Karen, Kathy, Greg and I were ready to leave for 'Callahan Days' it was late afternoon before we finally left Yreka in Karen's 1966 VW 'Bug' to embark on our 40 mile drive down Highway 3 to Callahan at what must have been sometime around 3:30 to 4:00 PM which was the hottest part of that summer's day, July 25, 1975.

Greg and I had returned from the supermarket sometime after noon but for some reason or other Karen and Kathy weren't ready to go until some hours later but I didn't make a fuss over it as Greg and I felt that the real party at 'Callahan Days' wasn't to start until later that evening
on opening day.

Karen drove, as her friend Kathy Doyle from Portland sat 'shot gun' up front and Greg and I rode in the back seat of the 'Bug'. I rolled a couple of 'joint's to smoke on the way during the drive that lasted the better part of hour.

Greg just had to have a beer as we made the drive somewhat to my dismay and as it was going to be just under an hour's drive there, I didn't want any possible problems with the local cops or Highway Patrol and get hassled just because Greg couldn't wait an hour for a beer, whereby Karen might possibly get a ticket for allowing an 'open container' in the car. Greg always had to break the rules even when it wasn't necessary.

I really didn't worry about the cops finding my 'weed' having stored the rest of my ounce there in trunk of the 'VW' 'Bug' and they probably wouldn't take the time to tear the car apart without a search warrant, especially when there were so many cars and vehicles on Highway 3 heading to Callahan for the 10th annual 'Callahan Days' music festival.

The drive down to Callahan, was generally a pleasant one, up and down, and in and out, on that stretch of California Route 3 that I was then rather familiar with, a well paved two lane highway road, full of dips, curves, turns with intermittent dirt and gravel shoulders and turn outs along the way, which ran from Yreka, through the mountains of Scott Valley all the way to Callahan.

Although Callahan is only about 30 miles South by Southwest from Yreka as the crow flies, it's about a 40 mile drive there down Highway 3.
This plus the fact that Highway 3 is full of hills and Karen's '66 VW 'Bug' didn't have much power, we lost some time and Karen didn't push the car too much on the downhills stretches.

Geographically speaking, Callahan lies near the southern boundry of Siskiyou County and Trinity County and is only about 65 miles east of the Pacific Coast where the Redwoods National Park are located and so there was a bit of high coastal marine layer haze on the way there which made the hot summer's afternoon drive from Yreka to Callahan a bit muggy. -- Callahan is also about 25 miles west of the town of Mount Shasta and Interstate 5 as the crow flies and about 50 miles south of the Oregon Border,

As the four of us drove down Highway 3 to Callahan with Karen at the wheel of her 'Bug', we passed, or were passed by a variety of vehicles, most were passenger cars, but there were also a lot pick-up trucks, vans and motorhomes that were piloted by responsible drivers, many of which who like us were on their way to 'Callahan Days' thereon that hot, late afternoon drive to Callahan and 'Callahan Days'.

There were some motorcycles on the road as well but they were much faster and came into view and out of sight in only a matter of seconds.

We also encountered more than a few trucks, cars and vans swerving on the road ahead of us, operating therein various degrees unsafe driving, ranging from unsafe lane changes, driving too fast, and passing other cars on blind curves which I believed to a major cause of accidents on Highway 3.

One case that comes to mind was a a 1940's vintage, stake bed truck, with a giant homemade camper on the back was loaded up with what looked like 'Hillbillies' from days gone by, what with their unkept long hair and beards spilling over and beat up looking clothing that they wore.

The driver appeared to be drunk and or stoned with passengers there in the truck's cab and passengers visible there in the camper portion through it's windows, as the driver of the truck, wrecklessly zipped across both lanes of the two lane highway even on blind curves as Karen drove the VW behind them. -- Karen eventually passed them on a summit going into a curve that led into a downhill grade.

There were also the road racers in hot cars that were probably even more dangerous in that they drove at higher speeds and were just as wreckless if not more so than the drunken hillbillies we also saw, jumping across lanes and passing other vehicles on blind curves.

Karen was most always a concientious and a driver who was better than most and so always I felt confident whenever I drove with her anywhere.


Our Arrival At The 'Callahan Days' Festival -- Crowds of Thousands Already There As Cars
Pouring Into Callahan Jam Highway 3 As We Drive Around Looking Parking Near The Music Festival

We arrived at near the periphery Callahan at sometime around 5:00 PM as I recall the early evening shadows there, and all the hills nearby still thick with tall pines and fir trees near the site of the 'Callahan Days' festival grounds which was mostly open pasture land with some trees, brush and other growth dotting the open landscape that appeared to be full of people.

The place seemed miraculously transformed from a borderline ghost town into some kind tourist destination 'hot spot' that day as eveidenced by the influx of heavy traffic leading into Callahan and all the acres cars, trucks, RV's and other vehicles in make shift parking lots in meadows and under trees. There was quite a variety of dealer frames from various west coast cities and license plates from all over California, Oregon and other Western States as well. -- I didn't recall seeing that many motorcycles there but then again they were all probably parked in various locations obscured by the hordes of people attending the 'Callahan Days' fest.

I vaguely recall having seen a few people there who weren't traffic cops but were nonetheless directing some of the traffic from Highway 3 over to the makeshift parking lots as Karen followed a line of cars and other vehicles that slowly drove through the area, as their drivers looked for suitable parking spaces. This as more and more cars and vehicles kept pouring in from Highway 3 from both directions north and south.

In April 1974, then only about 15 months before I attended the 'California Jam' rock festival , with my friends Larry, Steve and Thom the guy who hitch hiked north with me to live in Montague in September '74 and it was literally mindblowing to see an estimated 300,000 or more 'Jam' rock fans there spread out over the Ontario Raceway.

Although 'Callahan Days' '75 wasn't nearly as big crowd wise, it was nearly as loud and just as festive and densely packed in many parts of the festival grounds that spread out all over acres of land on the east side of Highway 3.

It was a miraculous transformation to see all these people and cars converge on the tiny place on Highway 3 called Callahan, as the place always appeared as a beat down, ghost town on life support whenever I had been there or passed through it during the fall of 1974 when I worked Orel Lewis the surveyor and now it had streams of people walkling, various crowds there all over the place with traffic congestion so thick that it brought back recent memories "Disneyland' and the beaches in L.A. and the 'O.C.'

I expected 'Callahan Days' '75 to be primarily a local regional affair, something along the lines and size of the 'FUBAR' festival two months before, near McCloud which didn't have more than a thousand or so there at any one time, as people were constantly arriving and leaving day or night.

Karen finally found a spot to park near some trees, at some time around 5:00 PM on Friday July 25, 1975 a lucky break that Karen found such parking spot so close in, and relatively close to the Callahan 'General Store with a line of some Port-O-Sans visible from where we were about 90 yards away there in the near distance.

This was after what was nearly an hour long drive there Karen's underpowered VW 'Bug', followed by a 10 to 15 minute holding pattern threading our way through the congested lanes of traffic.

Karen parked the car and the four of us piled out of '66 VW 'Bug' and began stretching our arms and legs, and then one of us, Greg I believe, passed out some beers out of the cooler, as I got busy going through the '66 VW's front storage and tire compartment digging out my 'weed', and then started rolling some 'joints'.

'Rainier' beer Karen's favorite, was a beer that I didn't much care for one way or the other, but that was beer we had brought with us.
I found it cold and refreshing nonetheless after that long hot drive, up and down the dips and curves of Highway 3 from Yreka to Callahan as
I glanced round the infectiously happy mood of the 'Callahan Days' then in progress a short distance away from us across Highway 3.

We all made small talk about the crowds there and the traffic pouring in and how the weekend looked to be entertaining as well as fun with a pleasant variety of 'Blue Grass', Country Rock and Rock music there in a rural setting surrounded by wooded hills and open meadows off in the distance.

In July '75 I was primarily a 'pot' smoker who drank beer at parties and along with some shots of Tequilla or whatever was being served there.
Since Karen moved in with me in November '74 she would goad me into taking some recreational drugs by saying things like: 'Oh, your no fun.' and then feed some 'acid' or 'magic mushrooms' that I hadn't intended to take.

And during our drives up to Portland or Crescent City on the coast, Karen would sometimes give me some 'meth tabs' to take, ostensibly to put me in the same 'headspace' as hers. -- I suppose that the 'meth' most likely enhanced the intensity of our sex lives as well.

After rolling up and lighting a couple of 'joints', I passed them round both ways and the four of us took 'hits' off them as we drank our beers,
whilst we talked and joked a bit excitedly.

We also had some cigarettes going as we were gathered there at the rear of Karen's VW 'Bug' situated there in that make shift parking lot now shaded by the surrounding hills that gave the view the festival grounds a kind of richer, technicolor effect, whereas there was no direct sunlight or reflected glare to get in the way.

Though still hot and a bit muggy, some barely discernable light breezes would come through now and again, making it seem cooler than it actually was during our little chat over 'pot' and beer as Karen and Kathy sat there on the chrome tubular bars adorning each end of the bumper near the tail lights on Karen's '66 VW 'Bug'.

Greg and I stood near the girls, flanking them both and feeling a 'buzz' from the 'pot' and the beers and we made light hearted jokes and a few pithy observations as we've done many times at various parties, outings and such over the years since I met Greg some nine years some before in June '66.

I was looking forward to a lively fun filled weekend at 'Callahan Days', listening to music and partying a bit
in my usual low key manner that sometimes ranged from telling a joke or two, or maybe some satirical improv for friends and acquaintances making jest of thise in the news, public officials and whatever celebsjust might be in the news at that time.

Sometimes I was the 'life of the party' and other times I became serious and talked about things like politics and the current government scams then going on. -- As the Vietnam undeclared war had just been lost by the U.S. only 3 months before I wasn't inclined to comment on it at the time.

The four of us Karen, Kathy, Greg and I all seemed rather comfortable sipping cold beers and smoking cigarettes making light conversation joking as the scene at 'Callahan Days' open air concert, festival was then taking place so very near us there on the other side of Highway 3 which then choked with traffic and that was further slowed down by all the festival goers crossing the road in from the parking areas into the concert fun zone and vice versa.

'Callahan Days' seemed all the more infectious as we watched the cheering partiers, drunks, and local loadies walking over to the festival grounds from where Karen had parked her VW 'Bug' and the four of us were then chatting a bit over some beers and some 'joints', at the time it seemed to me that the Portland Girls and Greg wanted to get 'primed up' before deciding to make the plunge into the hordes of 'Callahan Days' festival revellers, after that hour long drive from Yreka to Callahan on that hot summer afternoon of Friday July 25, 1975.

It was only some hours later that night that I realized what the fuck was going and that there was apparently a whole series scripted and staged scenarios that were set to take place that and these were all apparently connected to an overall conspiratorial objective aimed at me as evidenced by Karen's revelations at a friend of mine's place located near the 'Callahan Days' but that these plans were quickly scrapped as the result of a series of unforeseen circumstances, which in one circumstance was quite literally about to explode in a ball of fire that set off a chain reaction of events that was to take place in later that evening, well into the following night of July 26, 1975.


'Flame Out's Bring To Light Greg's 'Fuck Up' Failure To Buy Lighters In Yreka -- My Trip To The Callahan 'General Store' To Buy Some -- Out Lighters & Book Matches, I Return With Stick Matches & Pass Some Out Amongst The Four Of Us

What with the frequent lighting of the 'joints' and cigarettes the four of us were all smoking, some of the plastic disposable lighters that we had didn't light up anymore as they had run out of gas the four of us, Karen, Kathy, Greg and I made a quick inventory only to discover that he we had only a few partially full lighters to last the weekend, nor did we bring any book matches along either.

Then the Portland Girls and I suddenly turned our attention to Greg and asked him where the lighters that he was supposed to have bought at the Yreka supermaket were, whereas cigarette lighters were on the list we gave him, and we supplied him with the cash to buy them as well.

Karen and I gave Greg some of our Food Stamps to pay for our share of the food that we were bringing along, and Greg did likewise with his Stamps in order to buy his share of the food that we all brought along with us to 'Callahan Days' in that late afternoon on what was just about to become an extremely 'Freaky Friday', July 25, 1975.

Kathy contributed some cash to pay for her share of food for the camping trip as well, which Greg kept and used some more of his Stamps to cover Kathy's as it would have been too much of a hassle to sort out the cost of Kathy's food as well there at the checkstand and was apparently understood by the Portland Girls and I although the matter never came the subject up.

In response to our query Greg conceded that he had failed to buy the plastic disposable cigarette lighters that were on the shopping list we gave him, whilst shopping at the Yreka supermarket, getting the beer, the food and the rest of the other items on the list that Greg did in fact manage to buy in spite of his oversight regarding the Bic lighters.

Thinking back at the time there at 'Callahan Days', to the several trips I made to the supermarket in Yreka earlier that day to see if Greg had finished shopping -- I considered the very real possibility that perhaps it was my presence and my chatting with Greg in the check-out line, that may have unintentionally distracted or diverted Greg's attention away from the display racks of with packages of disposable cigarette lighters, in various sizes, shapes, colors and quantities, placed right near the cash register whilst the store clerk was busy ringing up the items in Greg's shopping cart. -- Then again it was also possible that Greg just wanted to pocket a few bucks from the lighters he never bought.

Regardless of all this, it seemed to be a minor 'fly in the ointment' as we lounged around therewith our beers and 'pot' and whatever drugs that the Karen and Kathy had most likely already taken just after we arrived or very possibly during the last leg of the hour long drive to 'Callahan Days' and so it may be fairly said that we all seemed to be feeling rather good, or least I was in any event.

As for me the mood there was starting off like a good 'acid trip', as we watched all the young people there enjoying the music, the festive 'vibes' and overall carefree, but polite behavior of the people walking past us from our little parking lot soir'ee at the rear of Karen's VW and then strolled on across Highway 3 to where the 'Callahan Days' music festival was then going 'full blast'.

In light of Greg's 'fuck up' I decided that I would quickly remedy our lighter shortage problem, by walking over to the Callahan 'General Store' and buy some 'Bic' lighters or whatever other kind of disposable lighters that they might have had there as I was the one amongst who had ever been to Callahan before and actually knew where the store was then located. Thus I left Greg with Karen and Kathy there at the parking lot and left to buy some lighters with all due haste.

It wasn't until I was then threading my way through the streams of partiers and crowd clusters of people as I proceeded to the 'General Store' in Callahan, that I realized that I hadn't taken into account, just how swamped the place would be with customers, whereas by the time that I neared the store I could see lines of customers going in and coming out. The doors of the 'General Store' were in a fixed open position to permit speedier access and egress.

When I finally made it inside the store I went directly over to the sales counter where the only clerk I saw there was busy ringing up customers at the cash register, I then asked where he kept the disposable lighters, whereas most stores, supermakets and such at that time in the mid 1970's most always had the lighters prominently displayed near the cash register, along with the cigarettes and sometimes cigars and pipe tobacco as well.

The clerk then told me that he had already 'sold out' of them and as I looked around at all the customers it wasn't hard to guess why. I then asked the clerk where he kept the boxes of book matches and repiled that he was 'sold out' of them as well.

I then rolled my eyes upwards in vexation thinking about Greg's failure to get the lighters back in Yreka and turned to walk away. It was then at at that point that the store clerk told me that he just might have a few boxes of kitchen stick matches left and he then directed me to an aisle where they were located if there were any left.

When I made it there to the back of the store to find the kitchen matches, I saw them there on a lower shelf and searched around for some or those smaller sized wooden matches that were about two inches long and came in little boxes of 30 or 40 or so and came packaged in multiple boxes all wrapped together in in celophane, nonetheless I became a bit disappointed when I couldn't find any.

After the cashier rang up the matches, I thanked him and managed to make my way back through the crowds of people, back to the car where Karen, Kathy and Greg and explained that as the store was all out of lighters and book matches, these long wooden kitchen matches were all that were left to buy and proceeded to pass out small handfuls of stick matches to each of them.

I suppose that I must have passed out about 30 to 40 matches to each of them and took a similar amount for myself which I then put into one of my shirt pockets.

Karen who was wearing only a white tank top without any pockets, and some tight fitting blue jeans, put the matches I gave here in her left front pocket of her jeans.

If my memory does not fail me I recall that Greg, like me put the stick matches I gave him there in his shirt pocket and I also seem to recall that Karen's friend from Portland, Kathy put her matches in one of the compartments of her fair sized purse that she kept with her wherever she went during her week long visit with us there in Yreka and later that weekend at 'Callahan Days'.

The purse seemed to stick in my mind because of it's larger than usual size, it's light bone color and how it's large 1960's design made it seemed a trifle out of place for a 20 year old girl, as it was like something that a mature woman with a a bit of class and of taste might wear, perhaps with a dress or possibly a stylish '70's pant suit.

Kathy was slender and attractive about my height 5'- 4' whose hair was kind of a dishwater blonde hair with highlights was cut short and styled not to wavy perm in what was then a rather common hair style girls and young ladies in the mid 1970's.

She was pretty with pale blue eyes and an ever small dark spot in the cornea of what I believe was in fact her left eye flaw, and which was barely discernable unless someone had a sort of 'camera eye', a bit of a bloodhound and had the instincts of a political refugee zeroing in on what he believed to be some kind of police or intel agent closing in on him.

If my live-in Girlfriend Karen from Portland, who so conveniently installed in my life, first at Vacaville, Calfornia on 'Labor Day' September 2nd and later moved to Yreka to live with me in November '74 was some kind of 'plant' presumably working for the FBI and or for CIA that used 'hookers' on regular basis and had their own 'safehouses' and 'whorehouses' domestically and abroad -- then I also had to assume that her friend Kathy was also one as well.

My guess was that they were both indoctrinated during the four years or so that they spent at the newly formed James Monroe High School from 1969 through 1973. -- It made the switch from an all girls polytecnic, to an all girls high school with what I then suspected in July '75 had a
so called 'Feminist' / 'Women's Lib' format.

This being the case the all girl student body at Monroe High in Portland had role models, one being Gloria Steinem, herself a longtime CIA agent who made the cover of the May 30 -June 5, '75 edition of the 'Berkeley Barb' which carried a thoroughly researched, detailed and rather well written two page piece on Gloria Steinem activities in her capacity as a CIA agent and Steinem's efforts to quash other magazine articles about Steinem's CIA activities, undoubtedly with the help of the CIA to subvert the Freedom of the Press using various kinds legal chicanery and CIA style extortion and coercion.

I read and bits about the Steinem-CIA connection in June '75, I had about this back in 1973 as rumors of Steinem's covert activities were circulating there in L.A. at that time and the subject of Women's Lib icon Steinem's CIA activities cropped up again during the following year
just after the May '74 massacre of 'SLA' terrorist group hideout in South Central L.A. carried out by the LAPD, L.A. Sheriffs, the FBI and CIA.

This was because 'Rich Brat' gone 'Radical' and SLA member Patty Hearst was no where near the 'SLA' hideout in L.A. only 30 miles from where I lived in Covina, and the word was that so called 'SLA' member Patty Hearst was 'tipped off' by the FBI and put out of harm's way, unlike her six 'SLA' comrades who were first shot at with thousands of rounds of bullets, some of which who were burned alive as they tried to give them selves up. -- The LAPD set the hideout house abalze and the L.A. Fire Department had orders not to interfere with the flaming human sacrifices then in progress on May 17, 1974.

Then it all came out later in 1974 that in 1972 then U.C. Berkeley student Patty Hearst had CIA connections to some kind of inmate research
study program at Vacaville Prison Medical Complex in 1972, where Patty Hearst and some of her future fellow 'SLA' terror group female comrades were reportedly having sex with Donald DeFreeze and other inmates therein the conjugal visit trailers there at Vacaville Prison where the CIA had conducted mind control experiments on the inmates there.

All this resulted in a renewed interests in Gloria Steinem's CIA activities and how they were similar to that of Patty's Hearst's CIA activities and her role as a probable FBI informant as well, as evidenced in May '74 by the way she escaped the bullet riddled and firey deaths that her fellow 'SLA' members did.

When I made my first visit to Portland from September 3rd through mid-September '74, my fellow travelling companion from Covina, Thom hitch-hiked back down to our then new home in Montague, California only three of four days after we both arrived there in Portland.

During this addtional time that I stayed there in Portland, Karen had me 'make the rounds', meeting some of her family members and many of her friends during my September '74 visit there and one of them was Kathy Doyle her friend who she met during the four years she spent at Monroe All Girls High School from the Fall of '69 through June of '73. -- This was then only two years later in July '75 and the events at 'Callahan Days'.

When I met Kathy, she there at a house where some friends of Kathy and Karen were partying a bit smoking 'weed' and drinking beer and such.I It was during this visit that I met these and some of Portland Kathy's siblings, whereby I got the very distinct impression that some of these very same friends and family members where somewhat wary and in some cases paranoid of Kathy and Karen as well, although perhaps to some lessor degree.

It was if they were trying to give me a 'heads up' about the two pretty young Portland Girls, of I already had suspected as some kind of police informants or 'plants', but I figured that I would most likely be over and done with Karen after my September '74 visit to Portland was over.

During the late 1960's in the neighborhood I grew up in Covina, next door to an L.A. Sheriff's Deputy, as well the neighboring town in that slice of Northeast Los Angeles County, the place became virtually inundated with all kinds of student police informants, L.A. Sheriffs Narcs, FBI stooges, agent provacatuers that went after kids for drug bust and as in my case for some incredibly bizarre political reasons, as opposed to others for their anti-war activities and beliefs.

I would not trade my having grown up there in Covina, California at point in history during the assassination ridden era that led to the culteral and sexual revolution of the 1960's for anything in the world as horrific and as terrifying as it was at times.

The point I am making here is that like in L.A., and presumably many other cities along the West Coast, Portland had it's share of the same kind of police state bullshit there. This was a large part of my reason for leaving Covina located in L.A. County on Labor Day weekend August 31, 1974, for the towns of Montague and Yreka just south of the Oregon, border only 11 months before as I reflected on these events during those first seemingly festive and carefree hours at 'Callahan Days' on July 25, 1975.

Between all the small talk and chit-chat with the Portland Girls Karen and Kathy and my old 'freind' Greg over beers and 'pot' therein the early evening hours thereof the first day of the 'Callahan Days' celebrations, my thoughts somehow drifted back to the first time that I met Karen, who was driving back to Portland with her friend Sherry, when she picked up my travelling partner Thom and I who were hitch-hiking at what was then the Winters 505 temporary cut off in Vacaville.

As we all drove north on the 505 and eventually ended up drinking beers at a rather nice little swimming hole just west of Redding, I help but feeling that this seemingly spontaneous meeting between my travelling partner and the Portland Girls on Labor Day, September 2, 1974 at of all places Vacaville, California may not have been so spontaneous and that it well may in fact been all pre-arranged.

Somehow Karen's demeanor and makeup told me that she seemed to fit a psychological proifile tailor made for me.



As for Kathy I suppose that she bore a physical resemblence to the 1970's actress Jill Clayburgh, except that Kathy's eyes were a bit sharper and had an ever so slightly discernable hardness in them and which looked bright, friendly and seemingly normal otherwise.

In light of my already long held suspicions of my Girlfriend Karen since the day I met her on Labor Day in September '74, I found Kathy's personal characteristics and qualities all the more interesting.

Kathy was also a rather intelligent 20 year-old girl in July '75 and although she may have been as pretty and attractive as actress Clayburgh -- she somehow seemed to lack the warmth and compassion that Ms. Clayburgh did, at least there in the roles that Ms. Clayburgh played in the movies in any event.

I seemed to sense some kind of deeply repressed hurt and or emotions therein Kathy's mind that was always on guard, yet with an ever so casual and carefree demeanor and a bit of a sardonic wit about her that I found charming and endearing about her.

All this made it seem all the more difficult for me 'to get a fix' on her except that Kathy appeared to regard herself thereas something of an ardent feminist, which made me also wonder was there some kind secret agenda that went along with all this. Little did I know that in only a matter of hours later on the night, on Friday July 25, 1975 that I was to find out that this was precisely the case. This was followed in short order by the rather bloody and horrific events that took place at 'Callahan Days' the following night, July 26th.



"Liar ! Liar ! Her Pants Caught Fire !" At 'Callahan Days' '75

Friction Sets Off The Stick Matches Off In Girlfriend's Pocket -- My Glance Over As They
Start To Ignite And Yanking Off Her Jeans Just Before They Go Up In Flames

Having settled the matter of our group lighter outages at 'Callahan Days' at least for the time being, I decided to deflect as much attention away from Greg's 'fuck up' by not buying them earlier that day in Yreka before we left and decided to pick up where we all left off and so I grabbed another 'Rainier' beer from the ice cooler in the backseat of Karen's 'VW' and rolled up some more 'joints'.

At the risk of being repitious, I once again commented on how different the place looked than usually did and how it was going to be a really 'jamming' funfilled musical weekend thereat 'Callahan Days' without all the cops and other hassles of concerts that one too often found there in rock festivals in and around the big cities such as Los Angeles in the 1970's.

As I drank beer and smoked 'pot' I noticed that Karen and Kathy were engrossed in their own conversation and so I quizzed Greg and joked with him a bit as to what kind of countrified pussy that he might 'bag' there that night at the 'Callahan Days' 'Blue Grass' and Rock music festival then getting louder and more crowded by the minute.

There were so many license plates from all over California, Oregon and other states that Greg and I speculated as to what these chicks from the other big cities might be like as opposed to the girls back home in L.A. and what they might be like in the sack.

I told Greg that I regreted that I wouldn't be able to accompany him on his 'chick hunt' like in 'days of old' back in the Covina-Azusa area in the late 1960's and early '70's. This was true at least in part although I think that I just wanted some celebratory diversion from the ordinary routine in Yreka, which I really enjoyed most of the time and which consisted of working part time for a friend of mine there, reading and drawing a bit as well as smoking 'weed' and fucking my Girl Karen who used me as much as I used her.

During that period of time I was faithfull to Karen, or perhaps I should say that I was more circumspect about fucking the local girls in Yreka and some of the girls that I met at the 'College of Siskiyous' during that short period of time that I went there in January and February of '75 until Karen nagged me to stop attending.

There was however that time back on Memorial Day weekend in May '75 that I did 'make out' with the girl Forest Ranger out of Wolf's Creek, Oregon, therein the backseat of her car on the drive down to L.A. for the holiday weekend, but she didn't want to fuck as she said had some kind of minor medical condition that prevented her from doing so, although later on that very same night of July 25,1975 there at a friend of mine's house located near the 'Callahan Days' festival, I was to come to a very different conclusion as to why the Forest Ranger girl wouldn't fuck me.

The main reason that I didn't play around with the girls in Yreka was that it was such a small town it was bound to get back to Karen and I really didn't need the additional 'pussy' or the complications that sometimes came with it, such as jealous boyfriends and husbands and overly protective brothers and possibly some parents as well.

Actually the primary underlying reason for all this was that I didn't want to do anything that might interfere my long anticipated conclusion that Karen would surely suggest someday that we both move up to Portland, which was my impression that I formed on the very first day I met her back on 'Labor Day' in September '74.

Now in late July '75 there at the 'Callahan Days' music festival I had a hunch that it wouldn't be too long now before Karen was to 'pop' the question: 'Why don't we move to Portland'. This would probably be right after we had one of our fun filled romps in the bedroom at our place on Lanes St. in Yreka.

I'm sure that Karen took whatever kind of drugs that kept in her personal 'stash', as I figured was really none of my business, having gotten over my own 'speed' habit back in August '74. I never pressed the matter as to what kinds of drugs that Karen took or didn't take during our time together in Yreka from late November '74 on through what was to be mid-September '75.

I was sometimes ambivalent enough to I let Karen talk me into taking some 'meth tabs' when we drove to Portland for a visit or a made a drives to Crescent City during Fall of '74 and ealy '75. Some of my friend's in Yreka provided us with 'Magic Mushrooms' and I took a lot of 'acid' thereat the FUBAR festival near McCloud provided by some of Karen's friends from Portland who made the drive to Northern Cal for the FUBAR.
All this is covered in Part 4 Sub Part 5 of "1979" /1979westbrook.com

In July '75 I was pretty much a 'pot' head who drank beer on weekends and maybe some tequila or vodka mixed drinks at a party or get together like a 'kegger'.

Although there were plenty of drugs in Yreka, my having moved there to get away from drug taking friends and connections in Covina and L.A. changed my whole outlook about drugs, as I didn't have the desire for 'speed' that I had back home. I figured that if I started in doing drugs again on a regular basis that it would defeated one of the main purposes that I had moved to Northern California and that I might as well move back Covina near L.A.

As for Greg I assumed that he was now primarily a 'weed' smoker and a bit of a drinker, but I also knew what a character was and that anything was possible with Greg. He looked and acted like he was finally off the heroin though.

It seemed that his new vocation there in Yreka was to become just about everyone's friend there and made it his new goal in life to drink as much beer and alcohol as he could, smoke all the 'weed', 'hash' and 'hashoil' he could find and take whatever other recreational drugs he could.

Greg also devoted much of his time chasing down and fucking all the girls he could find, including Karen my not too terribly devoted Girlfriend, that is when my back was turned. I kept quiet about all this as I needed Karen to invite me to move up to Portland to play in what ever kind of fun and games were apparently in store for me up nights.

Now as for Karen's friend Kathy, I wouldn't care to speculate what drugs she might have taken there at 'Callahan Days' but it would be a fair to say that the collective 'stash' between Karen and Kathy during that 'Callahan Days' must have been a rather impressive collection to say the least.

They could have easily taken any kind of drugs they wanted to when they both went off together, say to the 'Port-O-San' or whatever. Karen would take drugs with Kathy during our drives up to Portland, I know that much but as to precisely what kind of drugs I really couldn't say.

During what I suppose must have been sometime into our second hour there at 'Callahan Days', the four of us: Karen, Kathy, Greg and I were all hang out there at the rear of Karen's car, chatting it up over cigarettes, 'pot', beer and whatever other kinds of drugs had that other three had taken without my knowledge which suited me just fine as I really didn't want to know and I guess I really didn't give shit as it wasn't my business.

After their trip to the 'Port-O-Sans' the girls returned and Like a couple pretty young bookends, once again Kathy was sitting on the left side of the tubular chrome portion to the rear bumper of Karen's '66 'VW' and Karen sat on the right side of the bumper, drinking beer and smoking a cigarette, Greg stood near Kathy and in similar fashion I stood flanking Karen only a few feet away from her, further right.

As I recall all four of us were talikng, joking and laughing, apparently caught up in the festival's carefree mood, combined with whatever other kinds of Karen, Kathy and Greg had all taken, along with the 'pot' and beer that all four of us were all then consuming, as people kept streaming across Highway 3 in droves as if they were somehow magnetically drawn there by the music, the merriment and the good vibes coming off the 'Callahan Days' festivities during that hour when late afternoon and early evening seem to blend together.

I was standing there looking over at the 'Callahan Days' festival then in full swing and Karen was wearing that big beautiful smile that she wore when she was enjoying herself or she was exceptionally 'high' when suddenly as she rose up from her perch there on the rear bumper of her car, it was as if she had just been struck by lightning and let out a scream and so I shot a glance over to see what the cause.

When I saw what looked like an ever so small incindiary explosion quietly burning a hole through the front left pocket of her tight fitting jeans
I realized that the stick matches that I gave her and that put in her front pocket were all igniting simultaneosly, and so wsithout waiting so much as another second I dropped my beer and whatever I was smoking at the time and reached over with both hands and yanked Karen's pants off to her ankles.

Whilst Karen stood there screaming I then directed her to quickly step out of flared bottom jeans as I held them down and then kicked the jeans away prompting Greg to jump into action by feverishly stomping on the jeans with chest high flames shooting from the burning mass of cotten denim. It was hard for me to believe that so much fire could be generated from a burning pair of jeans set off by stick matches in a front pocket.

I was truly amazed at my own skill for a second as I had managed to yank Karen's jeans off whilst leaving here panties on, kind of like when a magician yanks the table cloth off of a table whist leaving the dishes and glasses in the place settings undisturbed. This was already turning into one 'Freaky Friday' but I hadn't any clue as to just fucking freaky things were going to get that night.

After Stomping Out The Flames That Were Karen's Jeans Seconds Before Greg Became Unnerved And Unaccountably Fearfull Somehow -- This Reminded Me Of Our May '75 Memorial Day Drive Up To Northern California From L.A. -- I Recalled Greg's Paranoia As The Feds Tailed Us On The 101 In 'San Luis' And Then Pulled Up To Give Greg Menacing Looks Like He 'Fucked Up' -- Why Would They Do That ? Unless ?

I examined Karen's instaneous burn wound there on the front of her upper left thigh and it looked to be about 3 inches in diameter and judged it to be a second degree burn that was likely to heal up nicely and the scar if any would most likely fade away in time. I then told Karen not to worry as the burn was a relatively minor one that it would up nicely and that the burn wouldn't leave a permanent scar.

This happened to me then 10 years before in 1965 when I rode on the back of one of my older sister's boyfriend's motocycle, a 250 cc Honda 'Scrambler' with twin exhaust pipes that ran just under the passenger seat as opposed to conventional pipes that ran close to the ground.
This and gave me a small but somewhat painfull second degree burn that left a slight scar that eventually faded away completely.

Kathy did what she could do to console Karen which helped to keep her somewhat calm and I then thought about the panicked look on Greg's face as he was feverishly stomped on Karen's flaming jeans in an effort to put them out. I vaguely recall that Greg may have poured some beer on the firey britches as well.

As this was going on I couldn't help but think about how unaccountably terrified Greg seemed over Karen's spontaneous combustion which was greatly minimized by direct and immediate action on my part. I've seen burns like this passengers on motorcycles whose uncovered leg somehow or other was burned by one of the exhaust pipes.

All this reminded me of my Memorial Day Weekend visit to L.A., Covina followed by the drive back up north to Yreka, then only 2 months before in May '75 when I brought Greg back to live with Karen and I in Yreka and Greg said he needed to get away from L.A. to 'kick' drugs.

I had met the girl under what I had to then regard thereas supsiciously timed and all to convenient circumstances on May 22, 1975 as I was 'hitch hiking' in Redding with a Yreka local, back to Yreka after spending the day in Redding.

A girl who said she was a U.S. Forest Ranger trainee from Wolf Creek, Oregon picked us up and said that she needed someone to help her make the drive to Glendale, so that she could visit her parents there and that she was returning to back up north on the following Monday which was Memorial Day, May 26th and so I decided or should I say was skillfully manipulated into accepting a free round trip visit to L.A. as Karen was also conveniently away at that time in Idaho, ostensibly visiting her sister Kathy.

These circumstances and events of my Memorial Day '75 weekend trip are detailed there in Part 4 Sub Part 5 of "1979" / 1979westbrook.com

It was during the return trip portion of this holiday weekend on Memorial Day, May 26th, then only two months before that I saw the look of
fear and apprehension on Greg's face that precisely like the one he started wearing only seconds after Karen's spontaneous combustion there at the 'Callahan Days' music festival on July 25, 1975.

Greg and I were riding in a late 1960's fleet edition of an AMC Rebel automobile that the U.S. Forest Service had sold off as surplus and it was this 20 from Glendale, California and was a U.S. Forest Service Ranger in training that purchased the car.

She came over to the place where I stayed in Covina during the holiday weekend, on Memorial Day morning May 26th and picked Greg and I up for the return trip back up to Northern California and Yreka where I had only just moved to some months before in November '74 after a short stint in nearby Montague since mid-September.

The Ranger Girl trainee took the first shift at the wheel, whereb she drove her AMC Rebel all the way from Covina on up to San Luis Obispo on the Calfornia Central Coast where we arrived at around 11:30 AM driving north on the 101 freeway there.

At this time Greg and I were a little 'high' from the 'joint' we smoked a bit earlier and we were making jokes and talking in double and triple entendres, as the Ranger Girl drove on when out of the clear blue sky a dark brown Plymouth sedan, like the ones used by the Narcs in L.A. and the FBI and other Feds sometimes drove, then started tailing us just after we made the San Luis Obispo City Limits thereon the 101.

This tail by what looked to be Narcs or Feds of some kind went on for some minutes and Greg started to squirm a bit as still had 'tracks' on his arm where he had been shooting heroin and other drugs, or at least that's what he told the Ranger Girl and I in any event. The late model Plymouth with the two Feds or whatever then sped up along side us in the right lane and then shot over some rather menacing glares at Greg sitting there alone in the backseat as I fiddled around with the AM radio tuner pretending not to notice and Ranger Girl kept driving her AMC Rebel and acted relaxed behind the wheel.

After a few minutes these two Feds in suits in the Plymouth then veered right on took one of the last exits off the 101 therein San Luis and disappeared from view.

What with all the weirdness involving a the Feds in the Plymouth and Ranger Girl driving the former Forest Service AMC I got the impression that perhaps the car was wired for sound somehow and that the cryptic like conversation and jokes Greg and I were making had somehow come under the radar of the police state surveillance masters, who then dispatched these Fed stooges in the Plymouth to lean on Greg.

Assuming this was the case, which I knew it was, I quickly thought of some bogus but nonetheless plausible explanation that I thought would fool those listening in via electronic surveillance, the Ranger Girl driving and Greg and thereby defuse the situation at least for the time being in any event.

I came up with some lame explanation that the Fed in the Plymouth were most likely local County Sheriffs Narcs who randomly cruised the 101 looking for 'hippies' in vans and 'stoners' and maybe some vehicles that looked like they were possibly carrying drugs or contraband.

It wasn't hard for me to see that Greg knew I knew that there was more to the two guys in suits in the Plymouth than what I said and suggested. With a silent, knowing glance between us, we both put the matter out of our minds as Ranger Girl's car was apparently 'wired for sound' and Ranger Girl herself may well have been a 'plant' for the Feds as well.

That's what I did and like so many of the other weird and alarming things that I had experienced there in the last eleven months since my move to Northern California I decided to psychologically subliminate this latest bit of weird ass shit for the time being and see if it might tie in with future events.

Now some two months later thereat 'Callahan Days' in July '75 Greg's looks of fear and apprehesion seemed to perfectly match the looks of fear and apprehesion that he inadvertantly displayed there on the drive up to Yreka, with Ranger Girl and I on Memorial Day May 26, 1975.

What's more I couldn't help but notice how Greg nervously glancing over at Portland Kathy for some reason of other in the minutes immediately following Karen's spontaneous combustion thereat 'Callahan Days' in July '75, that it was like the same kind of fearfull reaction that Greg had when Feds the pulled their car along side the one we were riding in on the 101 in San Luis Obispo when they stared Greg down, then only two months before on Memorial Day May 26th.

All this brought to my mind the events only four days later on May 30, 1975 and Greg's fall into the firepit at the FUBAR festival near McCloud and the way that a biker friend of mine described the details of the incident in such a puzzled and searching manner that I couldn't help but wonder if Greg hadn't in fact attempted suicide. All this is covered there in Part 4 Sub Part 5 of "1979" /1979westbrook.com

I then returned to my then present problem there at 'Callahan Days', which was where was I going to find a first aid kit to treat Karen's burn wound. -- This was all come out again a few hours of so later, after all hell was yet to break loose on that 'Freaky Friday 'night of July 25, 1975.

Our Makeshift Comfort Station For Karen In Her VW 'Bug' -- Wondering Where I Might Find A First Aid Kit
-- Kathy Calls For Our Return Yreka To Get Her To An Emergency Room As Karen Moans Slightly

We adjusted the drivers seat (front and left ) in Karen's VW to slide all the way back and put some sleeping bags in front of the seat there as cushions so that we could prop up Karen's legs up in order to help allieviate her pain a bit.

Greg, Kathy and I then consoled Karen as best as we could as Karen sat there in the front seat of her car, wearing only her white panties and a white tank top, as the pain from her wound appeared to be rather acute judging by Karen's occassional moans.

I knew that there must be dozens, if not scores of First Aid kits there at the 'Callahan Days' '75 music festival, what with all the thousands of people there in attendance and I surmised that if worse came to worse, I could simply start asking the streams of music festival attendees if they might have one as they passed by Karen's VW where the four of us were all then congregated as we hovered around Karen.

After her initial shock and subsequent silence over Karen's spontaneous combustion only two or three minutes before, Kathy suggested that we should drive Karen back to Yreka, where she could be treated in a hospital emergency room where she could be treated.

My response was that although Karen's burn wound was presently painfull, that it was in no way serious enough to warrant making the near hour long drive back to Yreka on that lane mountain road called Highway 3 with the opposing southbound lane full of drunks, 'loadies' and 'stoned' teenaged drivers in hot rods that liked to lane jump on blind curves.

It was then at that time that I further argued that Karen's pain should greatly decrease after a few hours and by tommorrow her pain would be mostly gone, although her burn wound would no doubt be sensitive and that it would only hurt if should someone or something should bump into it.


A Friend Indeed, As I'm Smoking 'Weed' At 'Callahan Days' '75

Staring Off Into The Masses Of 'Callahan Days' Revellers As I Ply Karen With Whiskey & Beer -- I Spot My
Friend Bob In A Crowd -- I Wave Him Over And Tell Him My Situation -- He
Invites Us Over To His House
Nearby To Dress Karen's Burn And Put Her In A Bed --
Kathy Argues With Bob And I Against This Too
-- After A Half Hour Of
'Knock Down' 'Drawn Out' Debate We Finally Leave For Bob's As Nightfall Descends

While Kathy was over at the car talking to Kathy, Greg and I stepped aside and started talking about how people sometimes get drunk before getting their tatoos burned into there in skin. This was the case with many of my freinds who went in the Armed Forces during the Vietnam era which had only just ended a few months before in April '75.

We then both went over to tell Karen about our idea and told her about how whiskey eased our own pains and ailments during some of our injuries and misadventures in in the past, whereby Karen seemed open to the idea.

I figured that it was a sure bet that Karen hadn't taken any barbituates and although she was an habitual user of Tylenol 3 with codeine at the time, I surmised that it would be safe for Karen to drink a hard liquor such whiskey. As for Kathy, I don't that she put up any real arguments against it, I suppose that being Portland Kathy, the 'Women's Lib' control freak that she was in 1975, that Kathy may well have raised some initial objections against my giving Karen whiskey to ease the pain from her burn wound.

Kathy was to argue so fucking much most all of that 'Freaky Friday' night, that it's hard for me to remember all the other relatively minor skirmishes that I had with that 'control freak' bitch throughout that evening and night of July 25, 1975 unlike the long and tedious 'knock down' 'drag outs' that were then yet to transpire until about midnight.

Once again I made way across Highway 3 full of new arrivals swarming into 'Callahan Days' and threaded my way through the crowds over to the General Store which wasn't nearly as crowded as it was before when I bought the kitchen size stick matches about an hour or so earlier.

When I went up to the cash register I saw the same clerk who waited on me before, a guy who looked to he in his 40's with dark, thin hair and told how I passed out some of the matches that I had just bought and that some of them ignited in my Girl's jean pocket and that now she had burn that was causing her pain. -- I then told him that I needed a fifth of whiskey that I needed use on Girlfriend as a kind of pain killer.

He then turn around to a shelf located directly behind him pulled down a fifth of some not too expensive Kentucky Bourbon, and after he checked my age from my California driver's license, I paid the man and I made my way back through the crowds of 'Callahan Days' revellers there thereto VW 'Bug' where Karen was in repose and in pain from her burn wound with Greg and Kathy standing nearby talking.

Once there, I immediately started plying Karen with bourbon whiskey from the fifth of I had just bought, by pouring them into a plastic picnic cup and then had her drink 'chasers' of Rainier Beer'. I took a pull of bourbon from the bottle myself and said 'Not bad', in hopes of making the idea of drinking the whiskey more palatable to Karen.

As I was busy plying Karen with bourbon and beer Kathy and Greg stood off a ways from where Karen and I were. They were drinking beer and smoking cigarettes seemed to be talking quietly, presumably as to whether of not we were going to be able to spend the night, let alone the weekend there at 'Callahan Days'.

Karen's eyes took on a kind of glassy appearance after drinking the whiskey and beer chasers, though I it looked to me that perhaps it was the the result of the alcohol's combined effect with whatever kinds of drugs Karen had been taking. I wondered if she possibly took some 'acid' or possibly some 'magic mushrooms' soon after we arrived at 'Callahan Days' and that she just didn't bother to tell me.

After about a half dozen shots of bourbon followed by swigs of Rainer Beer, Karen seemed to be coming along fine as a patient of sorts, and so I started looking out over the surrounding landscape covered with people and dotted with a few pavillion tents and one of stages set up there, and I noticed that the early evening sunlight seemed to bring out the rich, technicolor hues from all the different hair colors, the hats and clothing that the 'Callahan Days' revellers were wearing and how the colors glistened a bit there in those last waning hours of sunlight.

I stood there with my arms laying over the roof of Karen's VW, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other longing to join in the fun there at 'Callahan Days' as I wondered if the whole weekend was to be ruined because of what was in fact, Karen's rather minor burn wound.

Kathy started talking to Karen once again and I was sure that Kathy would start in again about getting Karen to a hospital emergency room in Yreka that she didn't need and having us risk our lives in a head on collision there on a two lane mountain highway full of incoming drunks there in the process.

This sorry situation must have caused to pray silently which was not so uncommon for me in those days in the mid 70's, or more precisely throughout the entire decade of 1970's for that matter and sure enough my prayers must have been heard as I saw in the distance the physical frame of a man and what looked the general features of a face I thought I recognized way off in the distance making his through the crowd there in my general direction as I stood there with my arms strectched out over the roof of Karen's '66 VW.

When he came into hailing distance I called out his name and waved him on over to where I was with a beer in my hand, whereby he started walking over to where my weekend party of four was there at Karen's car, therein the makeshift parking lot just across Highway 3 from the 'Callahan Days' festivities.

It was Bob a guy I used to work with, at Avery Roofing in Yreka, back in late September through late October '74, until late I got a job with a Civil Engineer in Yreka, Orel Lewis who had a ranch in Oro Fino near Fort Jones.

Bob took me under his wing, whereas I had had only had little bit of roofing experience under my belt at that time. I worlked with Bob on various jobs along with with the full crew, like the elementary school in Weed, California south of Yreka on Interstate 5.I was also teamed up with Bob on some of the smaller roofing jobs there in Yreka, Fort Jones and Etna as well, which is located about 11 miles north of Callahan.

Roofer Bob, was then a 28 year old San Diego expatriate, who moved to Northern Californian some years before, and after a hard days work we would sometimes have some beers "The Deli", beer joint facing Miner Street in Yreka, it's rear entrance, only some 25 yards away from the apartment house where I was to later move to November '74 just after I started working for Lewis the Surveyor.

Ever himself, Bob looked to be in his usual good spirits as he walked up to me there at Karen's VW, shook my hand and asked how I was doing. Karen was still working on the last shot of bourbon I had poured her, and our two companions Kathy and Greg were both standing around and smoking cigarettes and had both developed a sudden interest in this friend of mine, who himself had now just appeared out of those crowds of people numbering in the thousands to find me.

Bob was the same handsome, slim nut muscular guy I once worked with as a roofer and was shirtless and wore a straw cowboy hat as he made his way through the crowds. He had long sandy hair, which he kept tied in a pony tail and light moustache. He was also wearing some dark colored jeans and sneakers on his feet, as opposed to boots.

It was a totally unexpected surprise for me to find Bob there as he was intelligent and had good sense to boot. He was also a hardworking guy with a family and I thanked God for his arrival and hoped that with his smarts and resourcefulness that he might be able to advise me about my then present situation.

I then gave Bob a quick rundown about the stick matches that ignited in Karen's pocket and how I minimized her injury which was minor but somewhat painfull nonetheless and how her friend Kathy wanted us to cancel our weekend at 'Callahan Days' in order to drive Karen back to Yreka in order for her to be treated at an emergency room that Karen didn't need in the first place.

Bob told me that his wife and kids were away visiting some relatives and he suggested that the four of us, Karen, Kathy, Greg and myself
come over to his house located only some miles away from Callahan, and that he had some neosporin to treat Karen's burn and some gauze bandages to wrap it in and best of all he could put Karen up in the master bedroom where she could get a good's night's rest and would be as 'fit as a fiddle' the next morning.

As for the rest of us, Kathy, Greg and I, Bob said we could all roll out our sleeping bags in the livingroom and like a 'sleepover party' and that we could play records on his stereo, smoke 'weed' and have some beers to help us unwind and relax before we all went to sleep for a good night's rest and then return to 'Callahan Days' the next day.

It was such a gracious and generous offer that I was a humbled a bit and so I felt gratefully obliged to accept it. Most of all, I appreciated his offer of proper treatment for Karen's minor burn wound and a bed for her to sleep in to help her recouperate.

I couldn't say that I felt guilty about giving Karen the matches that ignited in pocket, whereas how was I to know this would happen to her and after all it was my vigilence, coolness and quick thinking that actually kept Karen's burn injury to a bare minimum a relatively small, minor injury that was a barely a second degree burn.

Had I failed to immediately grasp the situation and react with split second timing, Karen's jeans would have gone up in flames, as well as her cotton tank top and long thick hair that went down her back, which would have surely engulfed her head and face in a firey mass leaving Karen with third degree burns that would disfigured her for life.

As for the rest of Karen's body it's very likely that she would have received second and third degree burns over about 70 percent of it as well.

When all things were said and done, If Greg had bought the disposable lighters that were specified on the shopping list that the Portland Girls and I gave him there in Yreka to buy at the Supermarket there earlier that very day, then I wouldn't have been forced to find a substitute for the lighters that Greg failed to buy, which in this case turned out to be stick matches, as this was all that was left at the Callahan General Store and which subsequently ignited there in Karen's front pocket of Karen's less than an hour later.

Karen seemed to go along with my friend Bob's offer for treatment of her small minor burn wound thereat his house relatively close to the 'Callahan Days' music festival, as well as his offer to let her sleep there that night in the master bedroom, and also put Kathy, Greg and I up for the night there in the living room where Kathy could sleep on the coach and Greg and I could roll out our sleeping bags on the carpet there.

I also told Karen that it was the perfect solution for our situation, whereas we didn't have to the risk the 40 mile drive back to Yreka a two lane mountain highway full of drunks and loadies in the opposing lanes as nightfall was growing ever closer and after her burn was treated and she had a good night's sleep in bed that by morning, the pain from the burn would have subsided and we could all return to 'Callahan Days' to enjoy the remaining days of the music festival there.

Kathy then put forth the irrational argument that Karen somehow needed to be treated at an emergency room there at the hospital in Yreka for her minor injury and was rather adamant on that point, without providing any substantive reasons for it other than how she somehow felt that this was necessary.

Bob and I heard this and then Bob told Kathy that he some alcohol and cotton balls to clean Karen's burn injury, some Neosporin oitment to treat it and some gauze and surgical tape to wrap it her wound as well.

What's more that Karen could have the master bedroom all to herself to sleep in as well and that this kind of care there wasn't much else that could be done for her thereat the emergency room at the hospital in Yreka, except maybe give her a shot of some demerol or some other heavy drug to put her out for the night.

I looked over at Greg who was now seemed uncharacteristically reticent and perhaps a bit timid to join in with Bob and I in favor of spending the night at Bob's rather than driving back all the way back to Yreka for no real reason at all except for what appeared to be Kathy's capricious whim and her overwhelming desire to assert that brand of mid Seventies Feminist dominance.

This struck me as somehow ironic, in that Kathy's arbitrary and pigheaded insistance to get Karen back Yreka for a hospital room she didn't need seemed very much like that of an overly 'Macho' male who just had to have his way over some trifling manner regardless of the situation.

As the argument raged I did manage to give Greg a look now and again that conveyed my displeasure at his sudden acquiescence to Kathy's capricious, mid '70's 'I Am Woman' whims and that he had better 'step up to the plate' to help me fucking out here, lest I regard him as less than a freind and he knew me well enough to know that I would no doubt call him out over it amongst our friends and acquaintances when we got back to Yreka and also possibly 'write his ass off' as a friend of mine too boot.

Something must have clicked there in Greg's head during Portland Kathy's lame ass, filabuster like argument with Bob and I that was to last about 30 to 40 minutes, Whereas Greg managed to pop in a few words in support of our idea to spend the night at Bob's a few times, during our
then ongoing frey with Kathy somewhat to her dismay.

Realizing that arguing Kathy was pointless at that point in time, Bob and I then turned our attentions over to Karen and ever so tactfully 'double teamed' on her to get her to go along to Bob's for the night. What's more we told Karen that if she might feel that she didn't feel any better after having her wound treated and wrapped and a good night's rest in a bed at Bob's, then I would drive Karen to the hospital emergency room in Yreka next day.

As the fleeting dusk was quickly turning into nightfall, Bob made note of the fact and told Karen that she had better make up mind or else he was going home alone without us as he had to work the next day and that he still hadn't had dinner and he needed to get to bed himself.

The fast approaching darkness seemed to cast a whole other new sense of urgency and thus seemed to undercut Kathy's present arguments, whereby Karen then finally agreed with Bob and I that we should all spend the night at his place and I also managed to get Greg to give another shot of his unaccountably timid, lukewarm support.

Kathy and so she could hardly protest further at least at that point in time, as the odds were 4 to 1 against her and the darkness of nightfall creeping in by the second seemed to cast a whole new light on our then present situation.


Our Arrival At Bob's Place In The Woods Near Callahan, The Luminosity Of The Moonlight
Filtered Through The Marine Layer And Tall Trees -- The Night Now Seems Electrically Charged Somehow

Now that this nagging bitch Kathy had finally shut up about driving Karen back to Yreka to get Karen to a hospital room she didn't in the first place, I acted as though nothing had happened, I asked Bob where he was parked and he pointed over to the general area where his truck was he proceded to walk over there and so I had Kathy, Greg and Karen get in the car and then I took the driver's seat and proceded to drive.

I suppose that Karen was most likely sitting next to me as it was easier for her to get in and out of the 2 door VW 'Bug' and Greg and Kathy sat in the backseat along with a considerable amount our camping gear and the ice chest.

By the time that I reached Bob's truck only a few minutes it was nightfall and Bob had already started up his vintage early 50's pick-up truck and waved me over to follow him.

Bobs's old pick up looked rather bizarre even for that remote part of Northern California, in that the vintage half-ton truck didn't have a truck bed, just a cab attached to the front of the truck-frame as any truck would, however it's rear end differential and tires were still fully exposed.

With the two small tail lights affixed to each side of the rear of the truck frame where truck bed once was, as I followed Bob down Highway 3 there in the dark of the night, the 6 Volt headlights on Karen's '66 VW, ever so dimly lit up the back of Bob's partially assembled vehicle, making it's truck frame, it's leaf springs and rear end take on a kind of errie appeareance, what with the two small tail lights attached to top of the bed frame, they seemed like two red-eyes on some weird skeletal frame that leading me into some unkown realm in the darkness.

After a few miles or so on Highway 3 for some reason it seemed to get increasingly darker, as if the moon hadn't made it up over the hills and that a coastal layer from the Pacific only 60 miles away made the night sky kind of hazy and opaque.

As I drove Karen's car through the night, rock music played from the car's 8 track stereo and the night seemed hot, black and a trifle claustrophobic like it was closing in somehow. Karen was mostly silent as were Greg and Kathy there in the backseat smoking cigarettes as they stared out the back windows that didn't open and exhaled smoke that went out of the front two door windows which were all the way down.

Some minutes later Bob turned off of Highway 3 to a dirt and gravel road that led off into some hills that were that were thick with pines and firs and which then in turn led to a series of short rides there on other some other dirt roads and switch backs that led ever deeper and darker into the woods.

Suddenly Bob came to spot where several mailboxes were on the road and turned off onto another road there with a steep grade for short distance and then levelld off. We had finally arrived at Bob's place in the woods, after about a 15 minute drive.

Bob's home was located in a clearing at the top of a rise and whatever moonlight that had managed to make it's way through the marine layer was diffused now, and had given the place a kind of luminoisty thus enabling me to make out the silhouette of the small one story woodframe house that we were now parked in front of along with the outlines of a few smaller out buildings nearby.

Then Bob got out of his truck and went in the house and turned on the porch light that lit up the large wooden front porch, just after I got out of the driver's seat and raced around to the other side of the car and started helping Karen out of the front passenger seat, whilst Greg and Kathy used the driver's side door to exit the back seat of the VW 'Bug', which was a two-door coupe.

Bob came out of the house and rushed over to the car to help me after I had just gotten Karen out of the front passenger seat, and then each of us took one of Karen's arms and carefully assisted her up the steps to the low wooden porch, and then on through the front door into the livingroom as Kathy and Greg followed us inside close behind.

Bob And I Treat Karen's Burn Wound Until She Suddenly 'Flips Out' On Me So I Leave Her In Bob's Care
And Return To The Livingroom Where Greg And Kathy Were And Act Like Nothing Happened

Greg and Kathy were silent as they entered the livingroom and Bob and I continued on leading Karen to the back bedroom and then Bob politely called out over his shoulder to Greg and Kathy for them to make themselves at home as whilst we carefully led Karen across the living room floor.

From what I had seen Bob's place up to that point in time, is that it was a one story woodframe house with the entry door leading into the fair sized rectangular livingroom with a door to the left midway in the living room that led to some other room or possibly rooms, an open entry way to the right that apparenlty led to the kitchen and a door thereat the back of the livingroom where Bob and I were leading Karen towards.

The livingroom was nicely carpeted, had a sofa, a cushy arm chair and a small coffee table off to one side opposite, a nice stereo system on the left side of the room as one entered the livingroom. The system consisted of an FM tuner, two large speakers placed on each side of the livingroom for greater effect, and a turn table next to a row of 12" vinyl rock and pop music albums.

I noticed a overhead light fixture at the center of the ceiling of the livingroom as well as a couple lamps on small tables off to the side as Bob and I walked Karen through it, long, along with a few toys that apparently belonged to Bob's kid's who were then presently with their mother visiting relatives in San Diego according to Bob.

This gave Bob's place a kind of homey feel that I liked having come from a large family and although I never wanted any kids of my own under any circumstances ever, what with the world what was then in July '75, now all the more exponentially worse in 2018.

The thought of having a kid with Karen didn't seem likely to me at the time in July '75 as I already long since knew that my Girlfriend Karen from Portland was some kind of 'plant' presumably for the FBI ? CIA ? and no doubt an informant for the various local police organizations in Northern California.

I had suspected as much there on the day I met her there in Vacaville, California on Labor Day back in September '74 and now thereat my friend Bob's place near Callahan, California in July '75 I had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before Karen suggested that we both leave Yreka move up to Portland together to live.

Meanwhile as Bob and I carefully walked Karen through the door and across the livingroom floor over to a door at the other side of the room and she had both of her arms around our necks so that she didn't have to use her leg with the burn wound on it as this caused her pain.

Just as Bob opened the door located at the other side of the livingroom, I gave Greg a quick look to let him know that we had the situation under control and then shot a split second glance over at Kathy as it was such a refreshing change to see what the bitch looked like with her mouth shut for a change.

This was just after 40 minutes of Kathy's assisine and redundant arguments with Bob and I there at the parking lot across from the 'Callahan Days' music festival, against taking Karen to Bob's place that was only a few miles or so away. -- This instead of making the dark and dangerous 40 mile drive to Yreka on a dark and twisting, two lane mountain highway against an opposing lane full of drunks and loadies all coming into 'Callahan Days' on that 'Freaky Friday' to party it up for the weekend.

It was truly hard for me understand just why it was that Kathy was so all fired insistant to get Karen to an emergency room at the hospital in Yreka for such a minor injury as Karen's was as it was minor first aid situation of which Bob had all the medicine and bandages to treat there at his house.

I had to start to wonder just what in hell Kathy was up to, but at that point in time I really hadn't a clue as to what other possible motive or motives that Kathy might have for wanting to risk the lives of Karen, Greg, herself and me as well to get Karen to a hospital emergency room that Karen didn't need in the first place.

The door on the other side of the livingroom opened into what was obviously a master bedroom as Bob flipped on the light switch, I could see a double bed, with the bedspread pulled up over it and a partially open door to the right that led into an adjoining bathroom.

Once inside, Bob and I ever so carefully sat Karen down on the double bed and Bob quickly went into bathroom to gather some items we needed to treat Karen's burn wound.

As I sat next to Karen there on the bed I asked Karen if the pain was easing up a bit or getting worse, but she said she wasn't sure, only that it still hushe had clearly made the right decision by coming to Bob's instead of making the dangerous 40 mile drive back to Yreka, and how it was a lucky break indeed that I had spotted Bob there at the crowds at 'Callahan Days'.

I should also note, that at this time Karen was looking a might glassy eyed, frazzled, confused and more than a bit drunk from all the bourbon and beer chasers I gave her in an attempt to ease her pain from the burn and that she looked rather 'high' from whatever drugs she had taken earlier that day.

This would have to have been either therein late afternoon or possibly in early evening, sometime just prior to or just after her spontaneous combustion thereat 'Callahan Days', then only about two and a half hours or so before.

I had seen Karen 'high' before, but this time she seemed kind of 'out of it' in a way that I had never quite seen her like before and attributed it all to new combination of the pain from Karen's burn, compounded by all the whiskey and beer I had her drink and whatever other kind of drugs Karen had taken without my knowledge.

Bob was like a paramedic that was really on the ball as he came back through the adjoining bathroom carrying a bottle of alcohol, a tube of Neosporin antibiotic oitment, some cotton balls, some cotton gauze along with a roll of surgical tape, all to treat Karen's burn.

What's more he was his usual kind and generous upbeat self as he and he seemed able to calm a rather nervous Karen down a bit, whereas I had seemed to have failed to do so.

It was there as Bob was gently dobbing Karen's burn with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol and was making ready to apply some neosporin on Karen's burn, when out of nowhere Karen suddenly started acting weird and then turned on me and began to yelling and started to swing at me, but Bob had caught her by the arm and prevented her from hitting me.

This was truly a mystery to me at the time as it less than only a few hours before that thanks to my vigilence and my quick thinking by yanking off her jeans just when the matches started to ignite that kept her from quite literally going up in flames, whereas I had not reacted when I did Karen's jeans and tank top would have caught fire, along with her that went down her back and her whole head and face would have been engulfed in flames and Karen would most likely have 3rd degree burns over most of her body, head and face.

I was astounded at Karen's unexpectely hostile and ungratefull behavior as I looked over at Bob in a kind of quizzical manner, I asked Bob if he could finish up without me and he nodded that that he could and then looked over at Karen's face and saw the rage there directed at me which me think to myself in anger: 'Gee, I should have let the bitch burn', afterwhich I then told Bob: 'I'll be in the next room if you need me' and then walked through the door that led to the livingroom.

Regardless of Karen's ungratefull bitch like behavior and her nagging friend 'Women's Lib' friend from Portland, Kathy, I was truly gratefull that by some remarkable stroke of luck that I had somehow spotted Bob out there in that swarming crowd at 'Callahan Days' and that he was kind enough to invites us all over to his house, in spite of Portland Kathy's vehement objections to our taking Karen to Bob's to get her wound treated and wrapped and get a good night's sleep there in a bed.

Was this just another case of 'No Good Deed Goes Unpunished' -- Or was this something else indeed ?

Light Conversion With Greg About My Yanking Karen's Jeans Off Before She Went Up In Flames Over Cards, Beer, Cigarettes, 'Pot' And Bourbon Whilst Listening To Rock LP's -- Kathy Visits Karen In The Bedroom Briefly -- She The Returns To The Livingroom To Renew Her Assinine Arguments Made At 'Callahan Days' About Driving Karen To A Hospital Emergency Room In Yreka -- I Try To Ignore Her Stupid Idea As Tactfully As I Can

As I returned to the livingroom from the bedroom where Karen had just 'flipped out' on me, I acted as though nothing had happened and then told Kathy and Greg that Bob had things under control as he was now presently wrapping up Karen's burn and that Karen was going to lay down and try to get some sleep after that.

After Karen's bizarrely violent scene in bedroom, I walked through the livingroom and gave Greg and Kathy a polite smile and told them that I was going to the car to get the beer and proceeded on out the front door to Karen's VW 'Bug' where I first opened the hood where the front storage compartment was and dug out my 'stash' of 'pot' there and then proceeded to the backseat and where I managed to dig out the ice cooler full of beer from all the other items we brought along with us to spend the weekend at 'Callahan Days'.

I hauled the cooler to the kitchen along with the fifth of bourbon that I bought at the store in Callahan and then took out a few beers back out to the livingroom along with the bottle of bourbon that was mostly still full, and gave Kathy and Greg a beer and kept one for myself.

This done I decided to relax and so I lit up a cigarette and started talking to Greg as then reached for my 'pot ' and 'Zig Zag' papers and and started rolling a 'joint' to smoke.

What with Karen's spontaneous combustion thereat 'Callahan Days', followed by Bob and I having to argue with that assinine cunt Kathy who insisted that we cancel our weekend and drive back to Yreka immediately to satisfy her capricious whim to hospitalize Karen over a minor 2nd degree burn that a First Aid kit would have taken care of, I now needed to relax a bit and with a 'joint' and a cold beer.

There was also the incident that took place there at Bob's only minutes before there on the other side the bedroom door. This was Karen's unwarranted outburst and attack on me after I saved the ungratefull bitch from going up in flames and 3rd degree burns over most of head and body there at 'Callahan Days' less than three hours before.

Kathy the cunt from Portland, sat there in one of the large stuffed armchairs in Bob's livingroom apparently still brooding over the argument she lost to Bob and I only about a half hour or so before there at 'Callahan Days'. She did what she could do to bring doom and gloom to the livingroom where the three of us, Greg, Kathy and I were at.

Greg and I were stretched out on the carpeted floor nearby sipping on out beers and passing the 'joint' between us as we recounted the bizarre circumstances that led up to Karen's matches igniting in her pocket at 'Callahan Days' and how she nearly went up in flames there but for my yanking off her jeans in a split second.

As we did this one of us, probably me, suggested that we put a rock music album on the turntable next to the stereo to compliment our 'high' and add to our relaxation as was the common practice of tens of millions of other American kids at that time in 1975, what with all the malaise from all the national scams at that time, and now most recently the U.S. military's loss in Vietnam then only 3 months before.

Bob's stereo system, was a nice little component system that consisted of a FM tuner amplifier, an LP record turntable and two large speaker units set in separate walnut cabinets positioned on opposite sides of the room for greater separation effect.

Having switched the stereo on I immediately flipped through Bob's record collection set on a low shelf near the floor and selected an album to play. Bob's collection of about a hundred and fifty to two hundred LP's had many of the records that one might typically find in collections of many young people in their late teens and twenties in the '70's.

This was a fair cross section of music that one would hear played on the major underground rock stations in L.A., Long beach, the 'O.C.' and San Diego in late '60's and early '70's and ranged from acid rock, hard rock, country rock, southern rock, progressive and free form rock of that era.

FM rock music was truly a key component of the cultural revoIution of the late '60's and early '70's and was a truly portable art form that one could listened to at home which I did, or when I took car trips along the Southern Calfornia Coast with my surfer friends, as well as a number of trips alone when I drove to San Diego in my Porsche just for the fun of it, even though I didn't know anyone there and usually when I was high on mescaline, 'pot' or speed. The electronic surveillance was there wherever I went regardless of how or when.

I made sure that I kept the volume level on Bob's stereo there at nice volume level that was not too loud and not too low so that Karen could get some sleep in the back bedroom, as could Bob later on that night when he went to bed as he had to get up early to go to work the next day although he was then in the kitchen eating his dinner at that time. Most of all I liked to play rock music just loud enough to enjoy and low enough so that my friends and I could chat it up a bit.

My attempts at some light hearted comments to Kathy in an effort to thaw the icey bitch out had little effect. I felt that I was acting as a host by proxy there on behalf and in the absence of my friend Bob whose house it was and perhaps more importantly, I wanted to cajole Kathy into
acting more along the lines of a lady -- and less like a crazy 20 year-old 'Women's Lib' cultist with 12" dildo, looking to stick it up the ass of any man that she could find.

Kathy just sat there off to one side there in the large cushy armchair smoking a cigarette with what I might best describe as a look of what I can only best describe as a preoccupied look of implacability on her face as she stared off into space through the layers of cigarette smoke there in the livingroom.

As this was the first chance that Greg and I had to talk since Karen caught fire at 'Callahan Days' only a little over two, or by now possibly nearer to three hours before and were then comfortably ensconced there in Bob's livingroom, stretched out on the carpeted floor, smoking 'weed' and cigarettes and drinking beer and shots of bourbon from the bottle we then got around to talking about, what seemed like the incredibly bizarre chain circumstances and events that led to Karen's spontaneous combustion there at 'Callahan Days'.

Greg and I made other jokes and witticisms about the whole situation if for no other reasons than to help break the tension and bad vibes that had built up since Karen was burned and which prompted Kathy to start her fucking nagging campaign to get Karen to a hospital in Yreka, but we made no reference to this as we didn't want to antagonize Kathy and set the bitch off on yet another nagging campaign.

I also 'tooted my own horn' just t a bit by way joking about the skillfull manner in which I yanked off Karen's jeans just as the stick matches started to ignite and how I managed to leave her panties on. I had likened it to the old tablecloth trick that magicians do by yanking a table cloth out from under a fully set table and left the dishes, glasses and place settings there virtually undisturbed.

There was a deck of playing cards on one of the low nearby and so I suggested to Greg that we play a few hands of gin rummy to pas the time, but it was really that I just wanted some diversion from all that weird shit on that 'Freaky Friday' night and I wanted to change the subject of my conversations with Greg as Kathy had felt so strongly about the events at 'Callahan Days' at least with regard to getting Karen to a hospital in Yreka that Karen didn't in the first place.

If the truth be known I felt way more than just a bit drained and a might frazzled, what with all the drama involved in Karen's spontaneous combustion at 'Callahan Days' followed by Portland Kathy's bizarrely irrational 40 minute argument marathon with Bob and I insisting that I risk all our lives drive Karen to a hopital emergency room in Yreka that Karen didn't need in the first place.

There was also Kathy's insulting and disrespectful behavior towards my friend Bob after he so graciously invited us all over to place for the night in order to give Karen First Aid to treat her minor burn wound and a bed to sleep in so she could recouperate. -- Karen's schitzoid like attack on me in the back bedroom only minutes before thereat Bob's shouting and throwing blows was the fucking 'icing on the cake'.

No, I thought it best now not to talk about anything at all after chatting it up and joking a bit with Greg about the more humerous aspects of the way in which I quite literally saved Karen from becoming engulfed in flames and suffering some cruelly disfiguring 3rd degree burns over most of her body and head, instead of the small minor 2nd burn on her upper thigh thanks to me and the way in which I yanked off Karen's jeans, only a split second after they stated to ignite in her front pocket.

The rock music in the backround seemed to enhance the nice little 'buzz' I was getting from the combined effects of nicotine, 'weed', beer and a few swills of bourbon from the bottle.

Playing cards with Greg was a much needed diversion after being verbally harrassed, attacked and insulted by these Portland bitches Karen and Kathy, and the 'buzz' I had on also provided me with an opportunity to think about Greg's uncharacteristically timid behavior at 'Callahan Days'.
Why didn't Greg stand up to Portland Kathy more than he did.

Hell I had known Greg for nine years and even saved his life once at least in large part, but thanks to the coolness and quick First Aid like action of a smart and savvy girl named Luana and the

as described in Part 3 Sub 3 of "1979" / 1979westbrook.com -- I had also gave Greg plenty of favors over the years and helped him out of some tought spots over the years.

I had known Bob from Callahan for only about 10 months, since late September '74 and he went down to the wire with me debating with Kathy in order to defeat her assinine argument about driving to Yreka. Bob seemed like the better friend by far at that time.

Kathy seemed to have some kind of a hold on Greg as acted so timid towards her when he was in her presence. Greg appeared to act the way he did when those Feds ? or Narcs ? or whatever they were, seemed to scare the fuck out of Greg as they followed us in the car we were riding in back up north to Yreka as we passed through San Luis Obispo on the 101. This was then only 2 months before on Memorial Day May 26th and is covered in Part 4 Sub Part of "1979" /1979westbrook.com

A short time later Bob came out of the backroom to tell me that Karen's that he had finished up dressing and wrapping Karen's burn, and that Karen was now laying down and trying to get some sleep.

Bob then told us all: 'Just make yourselves at home' and then made a 'bee line' for the kitchen to get some dinner, now long overdue. This was the result of Bob having taken so much time to help me argue with Kathy and then convince Karen there at 'Callahan Days' to let me take her to Bob's place about five miles away and where Bob had just now treated Karen's minor, but apparently painfull burn wound.


Explaining To Portland Kathy That Driving Karen's VW With 6 Volt Headlights Over 40 Miles Of Dark And Twisting Two Lane Mountain Highway Is A Fatal Recipe For A 'Head On' With A Drunk Or 'Stoned' Driver Coming Into 'Callahan Days'

-- All This To Take Karen To An Emergency Room That She Didn't Need -- Kathy Dogmatically Ignores Reason -- Bob Periodically Passes Through The Livingroom And Throws In A Word Or Two On My Behalf When He Does

I downplay the situation and decided to drink and get 'high' a bit. I was kind of used to Karen's sometimes erratic behavior but I always play it cool as I need her to invite me up to Portland for whatever may await me there. -- I suspected her as a 'plant' since I met her 11 months before on Labor Day September 2, 1974 and surmised that it was her job to lure me up to Portland.


Kathy starts in about driving Karen to an emergency room at the hospital in Yreka






I I give Kathy the same good reasons not to as before



22. Meanwhile Kathy,
Karen's friend, from Portland, resumed her nagging-tirade of pleas and requests for me to leave 'Callahan
Days' immediately. --- This in order to drive Karen to the hospital back in Yreka --- over a forty-mile stretch
twisty mountain road full of drunks coming into Callahan. My reply to Portland Kathy was; "Let's give the
whiskey, a little time to work." and stuff like that.

23. It must have been about this time, that Bob told me
about the place he had, a house located only but a short drive away from Callahan, --- so that we could
properly dress and wrap the burn wound. --- As for the rest of us, Greg, Portland Kathy and myself, Bob
invited us to stay the night, play records on his stereo, smoke, drink, relax and all get a good night's rest.

24. The thought here being that by the next morning, Karen would feel better after a good night's sleep and
the pain from her burnhad subsided --- and thus avoid a lengthy car trip back to a hospital in Yreka --- thus
enabling us to rescue the weekend, and attend the other two-days of the Callahan Jubillee that remained.
When Portland Kathy still argued that we should all drive 40-miles back to Yreka to get Karen to a
hospital emergency room

25. Bob also made the case to Kathy about the very real risk of drunk drivers,
all headed into Callahan Days 'Jubillee', from Yreka, crossing center lines, and or just driving recklessly
could get us all killed. --- Kathy shut-up, but remained unconvinced. By this time it was getting darker by
minute --- so the shorter drive over to Bob's to get Karen some first-aid for her burn-wound, --- seemed to
win out over Portland Kathy's dumb-ass idea to make the hour long drive against a tide of drunk drivers,
in order to get Karen to a hospital emergency room, that she really didn't need, 40-miles away in Yreka.


29. Greg who assisted
me therein taking one of Karen's arms, and jhelped me walk her into a back bed-room thereat at Bob's.
--- I stayed at Karen's bedside, there as Bob ran to the medicine cabinet located in an adjoining bathroom,

to get some oitment and bandages, needed to to treat and wrap Karen's burn wound.


It was at then at this
point in time, as she lay there on the bed, writhing in pain that Karen went first went hysterical, and began
swearing at me and swinging her fist, which forced me to take control of the matter by grabbing her wrists
and holding her down on the bed.


30. She seemed to calm down a bit when Bob came back in the room,
and started to treat Karen's burn with some neosporin, before wrapping it in gauze, whereby I decide to let
Karen vent her anger and wrath a little more before I pulled a 'fade', quietly into background, before I went
out to living room --- leaving Bob there to tend to Karen's burn wound.

31. Once there in the living room,
I decided to accept Bob's offer to let me play some selections from his record collection of late 1960's
and early '70s rock, blues, and folk music. --- I remember playing 'It's a Beautiful Day' from the band's
album with "White Bird", thereas I helped myself to a beer, and rolled up a 'joint', a much needed break
from the bulshit and grief arising from Karen's spontaneous combustion and the injuries that she had sus-
tained from it.

32. Greg and I found a deck of playing cards somewhere, and started in on, what was to be
the first of many hands of Gin, Gin Rummy and Crazy Eights that night. --- It was a mutual attempt, on the
part of Greg and I to help normalize --- the persently, not so normal, and totally unexpected situation --- that
Greg then I, then found ourselves in --- then, only about an hour or so after Girlfriend's spontaneous

34. Greg and I also talked about how it
was, a stroke of good luck indeed, that when the stick matches had ignited in Karen's front pocket, that it
had happened to occur when it did, and where it did. --- There, as we were all standing around the back of
Karen's '66 VW, as Karen, who was then sitting on the chrome rear bumper --- and decided to stand-up,
thereby creating the friction, that caused the matches to virtually explode into flame.

35. Greg and I also
remarked just how lucky I was to spot the incindiary explosion was just starting to go off in Karen's front
pocket --- and that I so quickily clued in on what was happening, and then had the presencer of mind to
pull down her pants, as they were bursting into flames --- before thethe rest of Karen's clothes caught fire,
36. We also laughed about how I able to get her burning jeans off, while leaving her panties on, like a
'magician' performing that old, classic magic-trick, in which the 'magician' yanks off a table-cloth, whilst
leaving the plates and glasses on the table unmoved. --- I joked that I want to keep her private parts, away

39. During that night in July '75 thereat Bob's place in the woods, I also remember telling Greg
just how lucky it was --- that I had a freind like Bob, and one who just happened to be there at 'Callahan
Days' ---- when I spotted him coming out the towards us, before I hailed him over to have a Rainier Beer.
and passed by when he did, as we played cards, drank 'Rainier' beer and smoked a 'joint'. --- This seemed
to brighten up the mood as we were high, with rock music playing in the background, so much so that
Greg and I started making jokes, and politely laughed about the bizarre turn of events only an hour and
and a half before.

24. The thought here being that by the next morning, Karen would feel better after a good night's sleep and
the pain from her burnhad subsided --- and thus avoid a lengthy car trip back to a hospital in Yreka --- thus
enabling us to rescue the weekend, and attend the other two-days of the Callahan Jubillee that remained.
When Portland Kathy still argued that we should all drive 40-miles back to Yreka to get Karen to a
hospital emergency room 25.

Bob also made the case to Kathy about the very real risk of drunk drivers,
all headed into Callahan Days 'Jubillee', from Yreka, crossing center lines, and or just driving recklessly
could get us all killed. --- Kathy shut-up, but remained unconvinced. By this time it was getting darker by
minute --- so the shorter drive over to Bob's to get Karen some first-aid for her burn-wound, --- seemed to
win out over Portland Kathy's dumb-ass idea to make the hour long drive against a tide of drunk drivers,
in order to get Karen to a hospital emergency room, that she really didn't need, 40-miles away in Yreka.


37. I feel that I would somehow
be remiss, if I didn't point out the fact, that by July 1975. I was already pretty sure that Greg had already
sampled Karen's wares, as did some of the other locals in the Yreka area did as well. --- In fact, I had
once told her that she could do as she wished --- but don't let me find out. I suspected that Karen was al-
ready, but subliminated these little facts into my subconcious --- whereas I was never really trusted Karen,
and beingintensely curious as well, I was still waiting to see if and when Karen was going to try and talk me
into moving to Portland --- a move I suspected therefrom the very first moments I had met back in Septem-
ber '74 there, just outside of Vacaville.

38. Karen wasn't so generous with me, and would get jealous if I
looked at other girls from time to time, --- so much so that she insisted that I drop out of my art classes
thereat The College Of The Siskiyous some months earlier, lest I find another girl friend. --- I complied with
with Karen's wishes, largely because I wanted to see whether or not I would eventually be invited up to Port-
land by her.

40. Having declined our offer to join us therein a game of cards, more than once ---- Portland Kathy just sat
there on a cushy living room chair, silently smoking cigarettes, and watched Greg and I played and drank
beer--- This was a much needed break for my ears and head at the time as I recall, from Portland Bitch's
nagging for me to make the 40-mile plus, drive back to Yreka, in order to get Karen to a hospital emergen-
cy room that Karen really didn't need anyway.

41. Bob had already finsished dressing and wrapping Karen's
burn-wound, some 20-minutes or so before, and was eating his dinner therein kitchen having worked all
day as roofer on a job near Callahan. --- By this time Portland Kathy, had already went into the back bed-
room, at least two times if not more, checking to see how Karen was doing, what with her burn injury and

all, when Portland Kathy. was again seemed compelled to start 'busting-my-balls' again about dropping
what I was doing, --- and get Karen out of bed therein the back bedroom, and all pile into her little VW
'Bug' to make the 40-mile plus drive back to the hospital in Yreka --- Lest I get too comfortable or ease my
mind even a little, in spite of the fact, that I had somehow managed to find adequate first-aid, and a place
for Karen to rest for the night therein a a bed, in the house of a friend, albeit in the woods near Callahan.

42. Portland, Kathy Doyle, then started whining and nagging at me, therein that seventies, 'I Am
Woman' women's lib manner that I had already grown to detest the swound of by mid-1975, and once
again demanded that I drive Karen to the hospital emergency room, back in Yreka, over 40 miles away.
--- By 1975, I had had a more than a few experiences, handling whacky, white bitches such as Portland
Kathy, by remaining cool, calm, but very resolute.

43. I then, once again told this 20-year-old, control-freak
bitch from America's No.1 City Portland ---- my reasons for not doing so. I repeated to her the danger
that all four of us faced --- should we decide to make the 40 mile plus drive back to Yreka --- there against
a tide of drunk and stoned-out revellers, driving into Callahan from Yreka.

44. I also reminded Portland
Kathy thereof the various vehicles, that all frour of us witnessed on the way to Callahan --- swerving all over
the Highway, Highway 3. --- As this went on, I somehow noticed that Greg was conspicuously absent from

this discussion. --- This struck me thereas somewhat out of character for Greg, who just sat back looking at
his cards, acting low-key and reserved.



My Arguments To Kathy That We Shouldn't Risk Our Lives At Night One Mountain Highway Full Of Drunks Driving Into 'Callahan Days' -- Just To Get Karen To An Emergency Room In Yreka That She Didn't Need
-- My Point That Karen's Minor Burn Wound Was Already Treated, Karen Had A Bed To Sleep In And Plus We Had The Run Of Bob's Place For The Night So Conveniently Close To 'Callahan Days' Next Day




45. As this went on, Bob came back in the living room, and joined in
to support me there in my arguments, against those of Portland Kathy's --- as to why it was not necessary
to get Karen to a hospital emergency room back in Yreka, and thereby totally unnecessary --- as well as
fool hardy to make the 40 mile-plus drive at night, through the twisting, turning mountain highway back to
Yreka. The highway, Highway 3, full of drunken revellers and loadies crossing the centerlines, much in the
way I and the party of three that I came with had all witnessed, during drive there into Callahan, earlier that
day, just prior to arrival there in that evening.

46. Now all of the sudden, Greg feels compelled to jump in
the discussion and sides with me, at least partially, therein a kind of low key manner that seemed way out
sync for the Greg Downard that I knew back home in Covina. ---- Was Greg actually shamed into speaking
on my behalf because of Bob's taking my side ? Or was Greg just being cagey ? If so why ? What would be
his incentive to do so ? I couldn't see why, how or just what was Greg's angle there at that point in time, but
in a little over an hour or so, if that long indeed --- things would become crystal clear to me, as well as Bob,
our host therein that little house in the woods near Callahan, on that warm, black summer's night in July

47. After this latest round of arguments with Portland Kathy, she quieted down a bit and went into
the back bedroom, where Karen was laying down at least once, if not more than likely two or three times,
whereby she could check on Karen and to use the toilet therein bathroom, adjacent to the back-bedroom
at Bob's house.

40. Having declined our offer to join us therein a game of cards, more than once ---- Portland Kathy just sat
there on a cushy living room chair, silently smoking cigarettes, and watched Greg and I played and drank
beer--- This was a much needed break for my ears and head at the time as I recall, from Portland Bitch's
nagging for me to make the 40-mile plus, drive back to Yreka, in order to get Karen to a hospital emergen-
cy room that Karen really didn't need anyway. 41. Bob had already finsished dressing and wrapping Karen's
burn-wound, some 20-minutes or so before, and was eating his dinner therein kitchen having worked all
day as roofer on a job near Callahan. --- By this time Portland Kathy, had already went into the back bed-
room, at least two times if not more, checking to see how Karen was doing, what with her burn injury and


all, when Portland Kathy. was again seemed compelled to start 'busting-my-balls' again about dropping
what I was doing, --- and get Karen out of bed therein the back bedroom, and all pile into her little VW
'Bug' to make the 40-mile plus drive back to the hospital in Yreka --- Lest I get too comfortable or ease my
mind even a little, in spite of the fact, that I had somehow managed to find adequate first-aid, and a place
for Karen to rest for the night therein a a bed, in the house of a friend, albeit in the woods near Callahan.

42. Portland, Kathy Doyle, then started whining and nagging at me, therein that seventies, 'I Am
Woman' women's lib manner that I had already grown to detest the sound of by mid-1975

'Freaky Friday' Gets Fucking Freakier When Karen Charges Into The Livingroom In Her Tank Top And Panties, Screaming Hysterically And Throwing Blows At Me -- During Each Of Karen's Repeated Temper Tantrums Bob Comes Out And Helps Me Restrain Her And Put Her Back To Bed -- Greg And Kathy Do Nothing To Help Us
-- Wondering If Kathy May Have Incited Karen's Rampages During Kathy's Visits With Karen In The Bedroom B

48. After this latest round of irrational arguments by Portland Kathy, had failed against the well reasoned
rebuttals that Bob and I countered her with,Kathy pulled back, at least for the time being anyway, and re-
turned to her seat thereon the cushy arm-chair, located near a wall in Bob's livingroom. She then lit up
another cigarette, as Bob left the room once again, to another bedroom as I recall. --- In the meantime,
Greg and I simply picked up where we left off -- whereby Greg grabbed some more beers, and I rolled ano-
ther 'joint'.

Having done this, I then put another record album on the turntable and played it, before
Greg and I resumed our game of cards once more, thereon the carpeted livingroom floor.

49. It wasn't
long however before our little short lived gaiety was broken some minutes later --- when Karen, my injured
girlfriend came running out of the back-bedroom. --- It was like the girl had caught fire all over again

as she stood there jumping about and swinging her arms all about, Karen began screaming and cursing,
mostly at me, though it looked as though she was just as angry with the pain that she felt therefrom the
burn-wound, that she had sustained only some two-hours or so before.

50. As this latest round of Karen's
whacked-out behavior, unfolded therein Bob's livingroom in the woods --- Bob came out of one of the other
back rooms, and joined me, thereas I tried to calm Karen down and persuade her to return to the back-
bedroom and lay down on the bed. --- It wasn't long before Bob and I managed to get Karen back to bed,
though it was mostly thanks to Bob's efforts, that it worked out like it did.

51. Karen replayed this very
same scenario over and over, therein the hour that immediately followed --- and each time Bob and I man-
aged to get her back to bed. --- Greg just stayed where he was, thereon floor where we were both playing
cards and drinking beer, as Kathy sat in silence thereon that same cushy armchair, she had used since our
arrival thereat Bob's place near Callahan.


Karen must have came out of the back bedroom yelling and screamimng about a half dozen or so times -- It was fucking unbelieveable



Karen's Latest Hysterical Rampage Leads To Her 'Slip Of The Lip' Revelations Of The 'Plans For Me Up North'
-- The Shock And Horror In Bob's Eyes Mirrors My Own Thoughts As We Both Stand There In Stunned Silence
-- This Confirms The Suspicions I Had Ever Since I Met Karen In Vacaville Back On 'Labor Day' In September '74
-- I'm Terrified At The Prospect Of Such 'Plans' -- Ecstatic That My Long Held Suspicions Are Finally Confirmed


Louis Pasteur French microbiologist, chemist, pioneer of the "Germ theory of disease"

''In the fields of observation chance favours only the prepared mind.'




52. Things seemed to have reverted back to a sense of normalcy,
or at least as normal as things could be thereat Bob's place in the woods near Callahan, on that warm
summer's night in July 1975 --- therein the wake those rather unexpected and unpredictable, circumstances
back at 'Callahan Days' --- by the time that Greg and I had finally talked Kathy into playing some cards with
us, thereon the livingroom carpet. 53. All three of us sat there playing cards, and drinking beer, and it was
the soothing beat of rock music in the background, along with the effects of the 'pot' and beer that gave
Bob's place in woods a kind of homey, relaxed atmosphere by that time, which must have been sometime
between 8:30 and 9:00 PM 54. I guess that it must have been about that the three of us, Greg Kathy and
I, had come to the conclusion that Karen had finally passed-out for the night, thereas the combined result
of pain, exhaustion and all the bourbon and beer that I gave her in lieu of first-aid, which I didn't have at
the time.
55. It was this plus the fact that all three of us had imagined by now, that Karen must have been
all spent, as the result of that series of at least three, or possibly more hysterical tirades, that followed her
first, and were like 'retakes' of it, when Karen repeatedly, came charging out of the back-bedroom like she
was still on fire or something very much like it. Bob had already bid us all a goodnight and went off to into
another bedroom to get some sleep.

56. Just as everything seemed relaxed and all three of us were
engrossed therein our game of cards ---- once again Karen came charging out of the back bedroom, like a
banshee from hell, only this time with a renewed vigor and seething hostility that had surprisingly, sur-
passed the vehemence of her previous, violent forays into Bob's living room, earlier that night.

57. Karen
was still clad in only her white sleeveless tank top, and the white nylon panties which I left on her, as I
yanked off her jeans only second or two after the initial phase of the spontaneous combustion, which
ubsequently burst into flames once I had her pants off, whereby Greg then stomped out the flames after
the jean caught fire.

58. Almost as soon as this latest in a series of outbursts from Karen occured, I jumped
up and ran across to the other side of the livingroom, where Karen was standing, at, near the door that
that led to the back bedroom.

59. Like an ever vigilent minute-man Bob came out of another room, it was
the kitchen as I recall, as he was still dressed and seemed to be fully awake and extremely alert when he
rushed over to help me. --- As Bob and I wrangled and wrestled with Karen to get hold of her arms, I noticed
that Greg and Kathy just stayed where they were, at the other end of the livingroom, where the three of us
were all playing cards only moments before.

60. Weirder still both of them just sat motionless and very
nearly expressionless as they observed Bob and I try to reign in Karen who was violently out of control at
the time. --- It was like they, Kathy and Greg were watching something on TV. --- I remember how this struck
as being somewhat odd when I my eyes briefly glanced over in their directioin, as Bob and I struggled with

61. Once again I became the target of Karen's psychotic tirade, and her screams and angry obcen-
ities were all directed at me or so it seemed at the time.

62. It wasn't so easy to get control of Karen this
time --- It was as if the pain, and adreneline had increased her strength radically, and all that alcohol
that I gave her, made her violent and unpredictable. It was as if Karen had just caught fire all over again.

63. Bob and I must have looked like a couple of 'bouncers' at a bar, with some violently drunk, female
patron to Greg and Kathy, as we both gained the upper hand and tighten our grips on both of the arms
of my frenzied, 20 year-old girlfriend, looking over at each other's face from time to time, the adrenaline
now pumping through the veins of Bob and I now.

64. It then and there, as Bob and I stood there at door
to the back bedroom, each of us holding one of Karen's arms as she screamed unintelligibly, like some
kind of witch possessed --- when Karen suddenly appeared to regain control of herself, and a strange
placid aura, seemed to eminate from her, like some calm before the storm. With her composure now
restored, Karen then turned her head towards me, her face still flushed from rage, now apparently spent,
Karen spoke to me therein a most chilling and lucid manner : "We Have Plans For You Up North !"
65. What made this statement all the more horrifyingly real, and menacing was the demeanor, within her
voice when she said it. --- It was cooly confident, smug, and almost boastfull. --- It was as if there was
someone else, now speaking there inside her body --- but with my girlfriend Karen's voice, which had now
so inexplicably --- had become very cohearant . --- It was, without any doubt in my mind, one of the scariest
if not weirdest fucking moments in my life, up to that point in time back in July 1975.

66. As Karen spoke
these words, I stood there stunned silence, in a kind of disbelieving amazement, like I was in suspended animation, and all the air had just been sucked out of the room. I suppose it really didn't matter much at
the time, whereas the four of us, Greg, Kathy, Bob and I, were all virtually awestruck by Karen's words, and
--- all still too stunned move a muscle, let alone breathe. --- The four of us being Bob and I, then stand-
ing next to Karen, still holding on to her arms, at the bedroom door --- along with Greg and Portland Kathy,
who were both still sitting on the carpet, totlally immobilized, where the three of us --- Kathy, Greg and
I were all playing cards --- just prior to Karen's little exhibition of demonic possession only moments before.


69. It was there I stood there holding onto onto Karen's arm, therein the seconds just after
Karen's manevolently evil little quip about 'plans' for me 'up north' ---- that I was about to have what might
be best described as a revelation --- as to just exactly how, why and what Greg was doing there with me
up there Northern California. --- Now on that 'Freaky Fucking Friday" night in July '75 --- Greg just sat there
like dog on Portland Kathy's leash, totally useless to me, now that I needed some help with my crazy, evil
bitch of a girlfriend I had to deal with then, during my hour of need.

////////////////// Delete below

70. It must be said that It was Bob's generousity of spirit, and intuitive sense of awareness, that made Bob the real 'Man of The Hour' during
one of the darkest hours, on what seemed like the blackest of nights of my life thereon in July 25, 1975.



71. As Bob and I stood there for what seemed like a small eternity, holding Karen by her arms, I could feel
Kathy and Greg's frozen gazes, tightly focused on us --- thereas my eyes were still riveted to the now Karen's
now cameleon face, which had suddenly took on a whole appearance and demeanor, like that of woman
has was now totally spent. It must have then at that time, that I managed to tear my eyes away from
Karen's face --- and shifted my gaze over to the awestruck and horrified expression thereon Bob's.

72. Bob couldn't have been more than a foot- and-a-half, to two feet or so away from me, when my not--
so-loving girlfriend made her miraculous transformation --- from screaming, hysterical bitch in agony ---
into that demonically evil entity --- who like a portal from hell, ever so cooly informed me thereof those
'Plans' for me 'Up North' --- as I stood there frozen in terrified awe and wonder.

73. Bob was still holding
Karen's left arm, as I held onto her right as I zero'd in on Bob's face, studying it like a gambler sizing up
the odds on a racing forum. --- I guess that I just wanted to see if what I had seen and heard from my
girlfriend, was witnessed by him as well. Kind of like a second opinion, whereas I must have been in a mild
state of shock and more than a bit overwhelmed at what had just occured. So much so, that I could scar-
cely move a muscle.

74. It probably wasn't a second, if indeed that long at all --- when I shifted my eyes to
read the frozen gaze of amazement and disbelief, that still remained of Bob's face. --- It spoke volumes to
me, whereas his facial expressions --- mirrored my own thoughts of dread, horror and paranoia, still


80. It was then as we both were staring into each others face, each searching for confirmation as to what we had both just witnessed, and then gave each other nondiscript, sly, quick, knowing glances of acknowledgment, each with our eyes, as the expressions on on faces remained nondescript, as both donned the looks we that we had worn when we both took hold of my drunken, drugged and hysterical girlfriend about a half-dozen or so times before earlier that night

--- I suppose we must have looked like a couple of bouncers working the door at some bar, rock concert or other event
and we wanted to stay in character as much as possible at the time, whereas we didn't want to let on that we had just witnessed the terrifyingly cool, and unbashedly evil manner in which my girlfreind Karenhad quite inadvertantly let slip her secret agenda, when she said: "We have plans for you up north"

It was there as we each held an arm, Bob holding her left and me on her right arm, that both Bob and I somehow sensed , what might be best described as some kind of intense, magnetic anomaly, off to our sides and directly in front of Karen, whereby Bob and I, our bodies there frozen holding my girlfriend now silent and relatively pliable, as both our heads pair synchonized compass points,



Greg And Kathy's Faces Read Like 'Neon Signed' Confessions As 'Players' In
The 'Plans For Me Up North'
-- The Livingroom Now Electrically Charged
And Thick With The Scent Of Rampant Paranoia And Desperation

As Bob and I shifted our focus from the still contorted, demonic like facnon descript e of my girlfriend, our eyes
were then drawn to the faces of our fellow companions for the night --- Greg and Portland Kathy, both of
whom seemed to be even more astonished horrified than we were --- that is if such a thing were even fuck-

king thing was even possible. ---- Weirder still was how their facial expressions seemed to convey ident-
ical emotions of dread terror, like partners-in-crime --- who were extremely fearfull that they might be
exposed thereof their complicity, in heinously conspiratorial criminal act, yet to take place. 81. It wasn't
so much that they, Greg and Portland Kathy were shocked by Karen's bizarre behavior --- which of course
they both were and then some --- as much as they were both so fearfully paranoid as to whether or not
Bob and I, had actually taken Karen's words about 'Plans' for me 'Up North' seriously, or not. Their guilty looks in their eyes, as their faces became pale with fear

were those of two desperate people searching most intently for something they both wished to discover,
but who were almost too terrified to let to let themselves accept it, once they had found it.
All four of us had blue eyes. Greg and Kathy's were light blue grey, and Bob's were bluer, and mine being a blue-green hazel, and although they change color from time to time, depending on conditions ther were blue that night as I looked at them therein the mirror in the bathroom adjoining the back bedroom where we put Karen, whose eyes were a hazel brown as I recall

And Now Here It Was On July 26, 1975, At Some House In The Woods Near Callahan Where Only Some Hours Before On July 25th, My Portland Girlfriend's Pain-Drug and Alcohol Induced Hysterics, Led To Her Cold Blooded Revelations of: 'Plans For [Me] Up North', Presumbly As Yet To Take Place In Portland And Other Locations In The Great Northwest. --- This Was Unbelievably Huge, It Was The Chance Break, That I Never Thought That I Would Get But There It Was In 'Spades'

This Was Also Confirmed By The Fearfull and Guility Reactions Of My Girlfriend Karen's Freind From Portland, Kathy, And My Old 'Freind' Greg From Azusa ---In The Seconds Silence That Immediately followed Karen's Revelations Of: 'Plans For [Me] Up North',



79. And so it was, without so much as a word to each
other, Bob and I seemed to read each other's minds somehow, and like a couple synchonized swimmers,
or perhaps like compass needles drawn towards magnetic north the magnetic north, our eyes were sud-
denly drawn to the faces of my old buddy Greg, and his leash-holder Kathy, Karen's friend from Portland.
Bob & I Zero In On Portland Kathy's & Greg's Synergistic Reaction To Karen's
Revelations 'Plans' For Me 'Up North' --- Fearfull Of Exposure Of Their Complicity

80. As Bob and I shifted our focus from the still contorted, demonic like face of my girlfriend, our eyes
were then drawn to the faces of our fellow companions for the night --- Greg and Portland Kathy, both of
whom seemed to be even more astonished horrified than we were --- that is if such a thing were even fuck-king thing was even possible. ---- Weirder still was how their facial expressions seemed to convey ident-
ical emotions of dread terror, like partners-in-crime --- who were extremely fearfull that they might be
exposed thereof their complicity, in heinously conspiratorial criminal act, yet to take place. 81. It wasn't
so much that they, Greg and Portland Kathy were shocked by Karen's bizarre behavior --- which of course
they both were and then some --- as much as they were both so fearfully paranoid as to whether or not
Bob and I, had actually taken Karen's words about 'Plans' for me 'Up North' seriously, or not. Their eyes
were those of two desperate people searching most intently for something they both wished to discover,
but who were almost too terrified to let to let themselves accept it, once they had found it.






82. I had never
seen Greg so scared in my life --- that is except up until two-months before, back in Memorial Day Week-
end, May when we made the that incessantly long drive up the Califronia Coastfrom L.A. to Eureka, before
turning east on 299 to Redding. 83. We were going through Saq Luis Obispo, and the two dudes in the

There were still traces of fear and paranoia on the faces of Greg and Kathy, as Bob and I escorted Karen to the back bedroom, looking like a couple of orderlies at 'psycho ward' taking a patient back their quarters, whereas only seconds before, their facial expressions of horror, fear and guilt as the result of
Karen's most unexpected, announcement of these 'Plans For Me Up North', were like conclusively corroborating confessions, as to their own respective roles of complicity, and participation there in them
also left no doubt in the minds of both Bob and I, as to the horrifying and all too real existence of these
of these ever so deep, dark and disturbing 'Plans For Me Up North'





Bob And I Put Girlfriend Karen To Bed For The Final Time -- Still Reeling Over Karen's Revelations About The 'Plans For Me Up North' As We Return To The Livingroom -- We Casually Attribute Karen's Latest Rant To Hysteria Caused By Pain From Her Burn And The Whiskey I Gave Her For It -- Bob Heads Off To Another Bedroom
-- I Resume Playing Cards With Greg Over 'Pot'
& Beer ' -- Kathy Smokes As She Broods And Watches UsS

After this latest round violent screaming hysterics, that seemed to leave Karen spent and exhausted, though still somewhat volitile and skittish, it was sometime around 9:00 PM, when Bob and I managed to coax and cajole Karen to settle down therein the back bedroom of Bob's house in the woods, near Callahan, California on what turned out to be, up to that point in time, the 'Freakiest Fucking Friday' of my life, July 25, 1975.

As I walked back into the livingroom, wearing the most natural 'poker face' that I could 'muster up' at the time, I recall thinking just 'how in the hell' it was that my 'friend' Greg from Azusa, who really wasn't my friend at all, had 'suckered' me into inviting him to come to live with me and my girlfriend in Yreka therein the first place, and the rather complicated chain of events that were apparently so well timed and precisely executed to make it all happen like a well rehearsed play.

And now on that that I was returning to the stage of this rather unexpected, impromptu play set in the living room of a house, located in some deep dark woods near Callahan, California, whereas the moon had now set behind a ridge shortly after our arrival there, and the dense growth of timber surrounding the place, now seemed to suck up whatever little moonlight that was left when we first got there.

I just as quickly thought that I had better skip these thoughts for now, and play my usual, expected role, as the clueless clown at Bob's place in Callahan, whereas it was now time for me to convince both Karen's friend, Portland Kathy, and my 'friend' Greg from Azusa, that I had either ignored or completely disregarded, Karen's cold bloodedly calm statement about the "Plans For Me Up North", thus reassuring Greg and Kathy both, that their respective roles and complicity in these said same 'Plans For Me', would remain just as deep, dark and deadly as intended.

Having made some glib remarks upon my return, I decided to put on some records on the stereo in the living room, and sat back down on the floor to resume my card game with Greg and Karen's friend Kathy, and took a couple of 'hits' off the 'joint' we were smoking, and drank some of my beer, partly because I enjoyed it, partly to help settle my nerves but most importantly to restore the mood of relative calm before girlfriend's last rampage and revelations of 'Plans Up North' as I didn't want to let on I had actually taken her seriously.

If I had acted all paranoid and nervous, then Kathy and Greg would know that I had taken Karen's announcement of those "Plans For Me Up North" seriously, thus putting them in jeopardy as well, whereas they both apparently had considerable roles scripted for them these "Plans" --- "Plans" so
mysteriously deep, dark and dangerous that Greg and Kathy now acted as if they feared for their very lives.

I shot casual glances over at Greg and Kathy as they sat there on carpeted floor, where Greg and I were playing cards when the last scene of the last act of Karen's performance and the revelations of 'Plans For Me Up North' had interrupted our card game, that I had just now resumed with Greg and it was under the now inquisitive gaze of Kathy, who casually looked away as she blew out the smoke from her cigarette, and now listened attentively, as I spoke of Karen's bizarre behavior, shouts and rants only moments before, being ever so carefull as to not mention, or make any reference whatsoever to Karen's
revelations of the "Plans For Me Up North".

It really wasn't too terribly hard for me to simply play the whole thing off as a chain linked, flukes of circumstances and events, first being that Greg forgot to buy some disposable cigarette lighters, when he was at the supermarket in Yreka, buying food, beer and other items for our planned weekend at 'Callahan Days', whilst I was gassing up the Karen's VW, checking the oil and tires and 'scoring' some 'weed'.

As I continued on with my recap of that night's events, I reminded Kathy and Greg, that it was the outage of lighters, that prompted me to go to General Store in Callahan looking to buy some cigarette lighters only to find out that the store had sold their remaining stock to the swarms of party revellers that swarmed into Callahan for the weekend music festival, and who also bought up every box of book matches that the General Store had in stock, thus leaving me no choice but to buy a box kitchen sized stick matches that consequently led to Karen's spontaneous combustion when she got up off the rear bumper to get another beer, as the result of friction upon the match heads from her tight fitting jeans.

I then played it up a little, before these two fucking rats of a feather in the 'Plans For Me Up North', Greg and Kathy, when I expressed a bit of remorse and surprised astonishment over the fact that the bourbon whiskey that I had plied Karen with to ease her pain, had apparently somehow increased the severity of it instead --- This was true as I actually thought that the alchohol would help to numb Karen's pain from her spontaneous combustion burn wound.

During this brief recitation of events, that both Kathy and Greg were silent, and they acted casually distracted, and slightly disinterested, as they 'listened like thieves' and hung on to every word I spoke therein those first few minutes after I re-entered the living room after Karen's final act of screaming hysteria that night and her closings lines of "We Have Plans For You Up North", as they were
both most apparently eager to hear what I said, in order to better evaluate as to whether or not I had believed what I had just heard and what I might have possibly surmised from Karen's litte 'slip of the lip'. regarding these said same 'Plans For Me Up North'.

I'm fairly sure that it was also at this time that I must have mentioned the fact that Karen had very possibly taken some codeine tablets to help ease her pain, when I went to the Callahan General Store to buy the bourbon whiskey that I bought her for the same reason, whereas she always had a little stash of those and other pills in her purse or on her person wherever she went.

When I first met Karen, nearly eleven-months before on Labor Day, September 2, 1974, it was only some days after that, that she informed me that the codiene tablets, were to help her with her headaches, which I supposed to be true, at least in part.

I never looked in her purse or went through her things unless she asked me to get something out them for her, things like cigarettes or a lighter and things like that, as I respected her right to privacy. --- Besides all this it would have also been a major 'blow' to my finding out, just why it was that she was 'planted' in my life at the age of 21 in order to eventually lure me up to Portland, although things had become considerably clearer on that very night, only minutes before therein the livingroom of Bob's house in the woods near Callahan, with Karen's cold blooded revelations of 'Plans For Me Up North', on the hot summer's night of July 25, 1975.

I then joked a bit about how I managed to pull off her tight fitting jeans, just as the stick matches ignited in her pant pocket, whilst leaving her panties, like a magician would do, when he yanked a table cloth off a dinner table, leaving all the dishes and glasses standing in place --- This seemed to lighten the mood and ease Greg and Kathy's paranoia a bit and soon after that I changed the subject and made light conversation with Greg as we played cards, drank beer, took 'hits' off a 'joint' and smoked cigarettes, as we played games of Gin Rummy and Crazy 8's.


Kathy Visits Karen In The Back Bedroom Only Minutes After Karen's 'Slip' About The 'Plans For Me Up North'
-- Greg And I
Play Cards, Smoke, Drink And Listen To Rock Music -- Kathy Returns And Starts 3 Hours Of Nagging
To Coerce Me Into Drive Karen To An Emergency Room In Yreka -- She Repeatedly Visits Karen In The Back
Bedroom And Smokes Cigarettes Alone Outside --
Bob And I Finally Talk Kathy Into Silence At About Midnight


-- I Stay Up Playing Cards, Thinking
As Karen's Burn Has Been Cleaned & Dressed And She's Asleep, I Tell Kathy No Repeatedly --- I Also Reminded Her About The 40 Miles Of Lane Jumping Drunk Drivers--- Greg's Silence To Kathy Is Further Evidence Of His Complicity In The 'Plans For [Me]'

A short time later Kathy went into the back bedroom to see how Karen was doing, and when Portland Kathy came back out, she started in on me once again about how we should forget about the 'Callahan Days' music festival, leave Bob's place near Callahan where we were all had all the comforts of home, and unnecessarily risk our lives by making the 40 mile drive back to Yreka, on the dark twisting turns and dips on a two lane highway full of lane crossing drunks driving directly towards us on their way into Callahan, for the popular annual music festival.

It was Portland Kathy's irrational and asinine contention that Karen needed immediate medical attention at the less than impressive looking building wings in Yreka, then commonly referred to as a hospital.
Kathy's request to drive back to Yreka was ridiculous at best, however I would argue that this was more suggestive of Portland Kathy's desired objective to get Karen back to Yreka, before she might have another 'slip of the lip' regarding the 'Plans For Me Up North', that she had revealed earlier that night.

Greg and I had actually talked Kathy into joining us in some hands of Rummy and I thought that this might mellow out this dogmatic: "I Am Woman"-Women's Liberation-Male Castrating Cunt --- The cards and conversational diversion while we smoked 'weed' and drank beer, were however only good for a stretchs of a half hour or so before Kathy started in on me again.

Being a male middle child in large and sometimes disfucntional family of mostly girls, I had had plenty of experience arguing and was up to the game which was annoying and sometimes aggravating --- It did nonetheless also serve to peel away the phony facades and verneer panels of bullshit that Kathy had
hid behind the whole night through, whereby I could do a little 'recon' into the whacky bitch's brain and
psychological make-up as the night wore on my nerves from this incessantly nagging she devil from Portland.

Although I had minimized Karen's burn wound by yanking down her pants, at the precise moment when the matches in her front pocket ignited, Karen still received a painfull, but relatively minor second degree burn wound, and it was hardly in need of treatment at a hospital --- I then reminded Kathy how Bob carefully cleaned Karen's burn wound with alcohol, before applying a thin layer of Neosporin antiseptic over it, before he taped some sterilized gauze over it.

I then told her what I repeatedly told her ever since Karen's spontaneous combustion took place earlier that evening, namely that there was no need for hospitalization as Karen could not have received better treatment there, than she had already received from Bob earlier that night. I also told Kathy that Karen was now finally asleep and that the pain would be mostly gone by morning, provided that she was allowed to get a good night's sleep

That nagging Portland bitch Kathy kept ragging on at me to drive us all to Yreka
over a period of at least two and a half to three hours, as it was past midnight when Kathy finally gave it up. --- And although I was able to out argue Kathy all this time, she didn't stop bitching about me driving us all back to Yreka, until Bob walked through the livingroom on his way to the kitchen, and once again explained to Kathy in clear and resolute manner that might be fatal to go against the tide of drunk and loaded drivers then converging on Callahan from southbound lane of Highway 3, and thus it was my roofer friend Bob, who was the one who actually drove the final nails into the coffin of Kathy's spurious arguments to return to Yreka that night.

Greg was conspicuously silent, during all this and looked very much the same way that he did during 24 hour plus drive up the coast from L.A. on the 101 before we cut over to the 299 east to Redding and on up Interstate 5 to Yreka --- This was about 4 hours into the trip as the 101 took us through San Luis Obispo and some guys who looked like Narcs tailed us for the better part of a half-hour before turning off --- I could tell that Greg was afraid to cross Kathy on this point, which made prefect sense in that Greg was apparently in on the 'Plans For Me Up North' with the Portland girls, Kathy Doyle and my girlfriend Karen.

Reflecting On The Convoluted Circumstances & Events Resulting In Greg's Move To Yreka





With 'My Girl' Karen Finally 'Passed Out' After A Half Dozen Exorcist Like Attacks On Me And That Nagging Cunt Kathy Now Silent About Karen And An Emergency Room In Yreka -- I'm Finally Able To Think Instead Of Argue As I Play Cards With Greg -- Having Just 'Outed' Greg & Kathy As 'Players' In The 'Plans For Me Up North' As Well -- I Now Realize That The Memorial Day Weekend Round Trip To L.A. In May '75 Was A Series Of Staged Events To 'Sucker' Me Into Bringing Greg Up To Yreka To Participate In The 'Plans For Me Up North'




Only some 30 hours or so later on the following night, July 25th, it was there after the events at my friend Bob's place near Callahan, that I began to suspect that Greg had actually jumped into the fire in an attempt to end his life rather that play along with the 'scam' that the Feds and police had manipulated him into and which most evidently had to do with Greg's betrayal of me. -- More on this a bit later in Part 4 Sub Part 7 of "1979" / 1979westbrook.com




This calm after the storm was punctuated by intermittant 'hits' off a 'joint', or 'shots' from the bourbon bottle that was still mostly full, and after a few wry comments about how we were "Glad that's fucking over" and how we hoped that Karen would finally pass out and stay put in the back bedroom, Greg and I were mostly silent, as I could tell that Greg wanted to see if I was reacting any differently towards him
in the wake of Karen's revelations of 'Plans For [ME] Up North', which resulted in Greg and Portland Kathy panicked and paranoid reactions, as evidence of their respective roles in these said same 'Plans'.

As for me on the other hand, I acted as though the events at 'Callahan Days' and later at Bob's place in
the woods nearby were just another one those fucking 'wild & crazy' nights, where everything went out of control, where riot and mayhem ruled, and brawls, overdoses, gun waiving and cops were called in on the scene.

I conveyed these thoughts to Greg therein my usual jocular manner, mixed in with a little feigned comardery for this guy Greg, as we played cards. Greg the guy whose life I saved at least once and possibly a time or two more, and who was now part of this of this Portland 'pussy mafia' consisting of my girlfriend Karen and her friend Kathy and their 'Plans For [Me] Up North' --- 'Plans' so terrible that Greg and Kathy 'freaked' with paranoia when Karen made her 'slip of the lip' exposing the existence of these 'Plans'.

Through the layers of smoke in Bob's livingroom in the pre-dawn hours of July 26, 1975, I recalled
our classmate Roxie G.'s party in Azusa in the spring of 1967, when we were still in junior high, and how about 20 or so guys from the party were going to jump Greg and I, along with couple of other kids who
were with us, after we were barred entry to the party and hung out down the street. --- Lucky for me
a freind of mine named Roy came by at that moment, and when this crowd of 20 cowards took one look at Roy, they immediately turned on their heels and went back into the party.

After that Greg and I walked into Roxy's party and when some party goers started ganging up on me again, and I smacked a soda can on the head of one of the rowdy's,whereby he whined and bled a bit. Nobody fucked with me after that, and I enjoyed the rest of the party with Greg and most of the other party goers. --- My friend Roy was rather nice kid from Azusa, then 15 years old, about 5'-7" tall, and weighed about 135 lbs. or so, but he was a natural born fighter and it was truly amazing how quick he could kick someone's ass with so little effort.

Roy was mild mannered, but fearless in a fight. He later became a Ranger in the U.S. Army and he was such a good martial artist, that he trained Green Berets for combat at the height of the Vietnam War, in which he served with distinction in as well. ---I saw him last in November 1972 at his apartment in Azusa.

It was eight-years later in July 1975, and there I was in yet another unexpected jam with my 'friend'
Greg, dosing my Portland girlfriend with bourbon, only minutes after her 'spontaneous combustion' at 'Callahan Days', when I just happened to spot my freind and former co-worker Bob, making his way through the crowds. --- I knew that I could count on him for some sound advice, when I waved Bob
over to our car, it was kind of like I was being rescued again, kind of like the way Roy did back in 1967.

Now that this nagging cunt from Portland Kathy had finally shut-up and gone to sleep on the livingroom
couch, and Greg and I played cards quitely to sound of '60's rock music in the background, I was able to
think back to the then recent past of only two-months before, when I began to recall how it was on that week leading up to the Memorial Day Holiday on May 26,1975, just how it was that there were so many "coincidences" that took place that week, and weren't really "coincidences" at all and how it was that all these fucking "coincidences" resulted therein my importation of Greg from Azusa to come live with me in Yreka.

Hell the more that I thought about it, it now became apparent that these weren't really "coincidences" at all, they were more like the acts and scenes in a carefully scripted motion picture, shot on various locations, full of contrivedly prearranged circumstances, events and staged scenarios that were precisely timed, and executed to achieve one overall primary goal that was still a total mystery to me, whilst moving forward with a series of other lesser, but nonetheless essential objectives whose motives were rather more apparent.


It was there in the relative quiet at Bob's place in the woods near Callahan, after that nagging cunt
Kathy had finally shut up after 3 hours of her incessant bitching and whining, that left only the sound of: "It's a Beautiful Day", and folk rock music like Neil Young and Bob Dylan playing in the background as Greg and I quietly played cards, as we sipped on our beers, smoked our cigarettes, that I was now able to reflect on then recent events from only two months before in May of 1975.




Part 4 Sub Pt 5 
-- The plot thickens even more in this slice of my life from April 2, 1975 through June 2, 1975, what with the bizarre death of an rising actress from Eugene, Oregon with family ties to Idaho in early April, followed by my Portland Girlfriend's solo trip to Pocatello, Idaho in mid-May 1975 at which time I'm suckered into a free solo round trip visit to L.A. days later , carefully crafted by the FBI and other intel for me to bring back Greg, a childhood friend up north to be installed there for the upcoming 'Plans For Me Up North' which I was unaware of at the time, but which would later inadvertently be revealed to me two months later during a fiery and bloody weekend at the 'Callahan Days' music festival on July 25-26, 1975.





Motives For Greg To Go Along With The 'Plans For [Me] Up North'

Greg Was Probably Set-Up On A Drug Charges -- Then Coerced To Go Along

The Episodic Manner In Which I Met Greg In June 1966 -- Our Sometimes Association Until The Fall Of 1968 Are Described In Part 4 Sub Part 8 as are the details about Greg's Family that really wasn't his family at all.

A few details about Greg nonetheless

Greg's apparent origin was in the Kennewick-Richland area of Southeastern Washington State and he was adopted only months before in Las Vegas, shortly after the Marraige of ___ Laro and Loren 'Benny' Downard in Las Vegas in December 1965

My on off associations w Greg from June 66 through Fall of '68

His reappearance in late July '71 days after 'Spud's murder


I then silently thought back to that cool, spring Friday night on May 30th, only 2 months before and how only minutes after Greg's plunge into a large firepit where a large side of wrapped meat was cooking and how only minutes after this incident, a Yreka biker who I knew made his way over to me to tell me how he had witnessed Greg's fall, in such a gravely, dead serious manner that I got the impression that Greg may have attempted suicide.

I'm sure that my biker friend was thinking the same thing I was at the time and now he was wondering about Greg's mental state and if hadn't unintentionally brought a freind with me back to Yreka who was potentially suicidal. -- Like so many other things that I suspected and or knew about during that first 7 months of 1975, I never let on about it during our little 'pot' party chat with the Portland Girls and Greg there at our place on Lane St. on July 24th.

There was also Greg's raid on a large Budweiser beer truck, which the local newspaper later reported ran into a couple of thousand dollars in loss to the local distributor and some other humerous incidents that the four of us all joked and laughed about. -- There were also a couple of brothers from Portland who knew Karen and had some connections to her through her church, St. Marks Episcopal in Portland.

These friends of Karen's from Portland had brought along large quantities of LSD, then better known as 'blotter acid'' and gave us some small sheets of the stuff containing many single doses. -- Unlike many other drugs, and other more powerfull psychedelics such 'STP' -- I found that one can only get so 'high' on 'acid' regardless of the quantity.

What with the fire pits that cooked whole pigs and sides of venision compimented by the other food and drink that Karen, Greg and I brought along with us to the May '75 FUBAR festival, there was plenty there to eat. The thing was is that the 3 of us were all so 'stoned' that we didn't very much of it, though I do recall that the slow cooked meats were absolutely delicious and the mountain air made taste all the better.

The wine flowed freely and other kinds of alcohol some 'laced' with different kinds of psychoactive drugs and who knows what. I drank from a number of various bottles, wine skins and canteens but remarkably enough, I was way more 'high' than I was drunk and I had a pleasant time just 'tripping out' and keeping my thoughts to myself regarding the trip I had just made to L.A., Covina and Azusa only days before and which resulted there in my bringing Greg back with to Yreka.

I was taking some time off thinking about the then ongoing, omnipresent conspiracy creeping in around me from all sides in May '75 and it was a good thing as it was this clearing of my thoughts that was to later help me redirect my attention on all this with a clearer, more objective focus than before therein the weeks to come.

Now here I was two months later and my powers of observation were all tuned up and ready to look out for whatever might happen at 'Callahan Days' all through that very week leading up to 'Callahan Days', but I seriously doubted that I would have anything but a good time out there in Callahan which as far as I could tell was going to be nice time sleeping under the stars with Karen at night and partying with our friends Greg and Kathy there at this mountain music festival.

These events at the FUBAR mountain festival are described in Part 4 Sub Part 5 of "1979"/1979westbrook.com
Click on the image link below to read more about it.


101. I tried to act as normal as I possibly
could, when I once again rejoined Greg and Portland Kathy therein the livingroom, looked like the 'Bobsy
Twins' as they sat there on the carpet ---- their curiously terrified eyes, now searching mine, and those of
of Bob's, after he had tucked Karen into bed and had reentered the livingroom, to sasy a word or two
before going off to another bedroom. ---- Greg and Kathy were trying to read our faces, Bob's and mine,
much in the same way that we had botrh just read theirs.


102. I guess that it must have been therein
those first few minutes after my girlfriend's demonic-like, divulgence, thereof those 'Plans' for me
'Up North', my retiurn to the livingroom and Bob's departure to the other bedroom that I suddenly realized,
or should I say conciously acknowledged the very existence thereof all the of the elaborate and subtley,
contrived machinations, and the many layers of subterfuge --- that must have been used to make it appear
to me --- that it was in fact my own idea to bring Greg up north with me to live, when such was not the case
at all. --- No not by a long shot, they played me like a fucking fiddle all the way, and laughed about it too.
May '75 Hitch-Hike To Redding --- A Pre-Planned, Round-Trip To L.A. & Covina,
Appears Spontaneous To Greg Get Up North ---- It Coincides With My Girl's Idaho Trip
--- Girlfriend's July '75 Lie About Pocatello, The Day Before Events At 'Callahan Days'
103. The way of things went like this. --- It was May 1975, Karen and I were living therein an apartment
house, located in downtown Yreka, just behind the beer-bar called 'The Deli' which faced Miner Street,
near the Siskiyou County Courthouse & Jail. 104. Karen, was from Portland, Oregon, and she had moved in
with me just before Thanksgiving, back in November '74 Karen, and had left for a visit to Pocatello, Idaho
by herself sometime around May 19th or 20th as I recall. ---- She said that she wanted to go there alone
because her brother in law was an asshole, and she just wanted to see her sistert Kathy who was then

These events at the FUBAR mountain festival are described in Part 4 Sub Part 5 of "1979"/1979westbrook.com
Click on the image link below to read more about it.



Click on the image link below to view Part 4 Sub Part 5 of of "1979"/ 1979westbrook.com








Apparently one of these lesser, but nonetheless essential objectives of these well scripted circumstances and events of Memorial Day weekend in May 1975, was to have my childhood 'freind' Greg Doward of Azusa, California, moved up to Yreka, California to live with me there, for reasons that I was not as yet able to 'put my finger on' over the last two months since I moved Greg up to Yreka, that is until a few hours before therein that very livingroom in the woods near Callahan, in which I was now playing cards in with Greg.

This was when my girlfriend from Portland Karen made the statement: "We Have Plans For You Up North", at the end of her last hysterical tirade, and the expressions of horror on the faces of both Greg and Portland Kathy, it was as though they both shared the same brain and had the same thoughts or overwhelming fear and paranoia, as Bob and I turned our heads in perfect synchronization, like needles on a compass pointing north. --- Greg and Kathy, diplayed looks of guilt and alarm so damning that even a blind man would be able to see that these two were not only complicit in these said same "Plans For [Me] Up North", but that they both must have had important roles in these 'Plans' as well.

As time went on therein the livingroom at Bob's place in wood's into the wee morning hours of July 26th, I had to figure that yet another component of these meticulously arranged "Plans For [Me] Up North" was, just what ever the hell it was that my Portland girlfriend Karen was doing during all her solo trips to Pocatello, Idaho, that she periodically made ever since she moved in with me back in late November 1974.


During my July '75 pre-dawn jog down this recently paved stretch of memory lane from May '75,
I also couldn't help but also notice that this last trip to Idaho that Karen took, lasted from from May 20th to May 29th and that it provided the perfect time frame for Dave to talk me into making the hitch-hiking day trip to Redding, that later resulted in that conveniently timed round trip offer to L.A. and back to Yreka, that was so fucking perfect as well. ---So perfect that it resulted in my being suckered into bringing Greg up north to live with me, and Karen as well.

Karen's May 29th return was Just in time for the 'FUBAR', that country and rock music like festival,
that was sex, drugs and alcohol fueled therein the woods near McCloud south of Mt. Shasta, not too far from some tracts of land that I 'pulled chain on' when I worked for Orel Lewis, a local land surveyor and civil engineer back the fall of 1974.

The 'FUBAR' was already in full swing when Karen, Greg and I got there on Friday May 30th and stayed through the weekend until Sunday June 1, 1975 and this must have gave Karen's handlers a chance to check out how Greg and I were getting along and as to whether or not I had any suspicions or reservations about bringing Greg north which I didn't at that point in time.

I should add at time that it is perhaps that I am so garrulous and out going and that many of my strongest held beliefs and ideas seem offend a lot of people, that even as a kid I would tend to subliminate and compartmentalize many of my thoughts almost instictively, as I didn't trust myself to always keep a secret. --- This came in handy in my senior year in high school when I went to L.A. county jail, or I was selling 'pot' or pills, or I didn't want to be a 'blow it' which I'm sure that I still was from time to time in 1975.

When one the biker guys I knew in Yreka came over to where I was sitting and informed me that Greg had jumped into one the 'fire pits' where sides of venison and pork were cooking, I couldn't believe it.
The dude went on to tell me that Greg would have stayed there to, if some people next to him hadn't jumped in and pulled him out lightening fast. Greg only sustained a few minor burns on his hands and face, as the jacket he was wearing, afforded him some protection.

Now in the pre-dawn quiet in this house in the woods near Callahan, I had to wonder if Greg was suicidal
and trying to kill himself there at the 'FUBAR' near McCloud, or if was he was simply too drunk, or maybe the 'acid' caused him to loose control.

It must have been the following that I was looking up at the stars 'acid tripping' in silence, sitting there next my 20 year-old girlfriend who I really didn't trust, as she was doing the same, when Greg brought back some cases 'Budweiser' that he had just stolen off a beer truck there, sent by a local distributor to supply one of the vendors there. --- I was horrified as I moved Greg north with me, in order for him to get out from under the grip of his heroin addiction and now it looked as though I had just brought up another theiving L.A. 'junky', but Karen and I took a couple or beers nonetheless as the deed was done.

This 'FUBAR' festival was where a couple of Karen's Portland friends showed up with all those sheets of 'paper acid' some which we ate, whilst other 'sheets' were used to season bottles of wine and such.
There she was to quiet like she most always was.

I suppose the best way that I might describe how I felt about my Portland girlfriend Karen at that point in time in July 1975, was perhaps best summed up there in old western movie from the 1950's that I saw some years later on TV.

"Them's the kind yuh gotta watch, Billy. I had me a quiet woman once.
Outside she was as calm as Sunday, but inside wild as mountain scenery."



There in that midnight hour of July 26th at Bob's house in the woods that memories of March 1975 and my Easter Weekend in Palo Alto and San Francisco were still fresh in my mind, only two months prior to the elaborately orchestrated chain of events in May 1975 that resulted in Greg's move to live with Karen and I in Yreka.

A trifecta like chain of incrediably unpredictable, unforeseen circumstances and events that started in rapid fire succession, only an hour after our party of four arrival, at the Callahan Days music festival on July 25, 1975, was in truth, actually a case where one surpisingly unpredicatable event led to another
surprisingly unpredicatable event.

The first 'unpredicatable event' started with Greg's 'fuck up' when he failed to buy some disposable cigarette lighters when he was at the supermarket, shopping for supplies for our 'Callahan Days' weekend camping trip. --- This led to my trip to the 'Callahan General Store' to buy some lighters, only to find that the store was our of lighters and book matches as well, whereby I purchased the next closest thing that they had left, which were kitchen stick matches.

This in turn resulted in may passing out a handfull of stick matches to Karen, Greg, Kathy and myself which resulted in the second 'unpredicatable event' of that evening, namely my girlfreind Karen's 'sponataneous combustion' there, whereby I bought a fifth of bourbon to help quell Karen's pain from
her burn wound injury. --- The third 'unpredicatable event' took place as I was giving Karen 'shots' bourbon and beer 'chasers' when my friend and former co-worker, Bob and I spotted each other through the crowds thereat 'Callahan Days', and Bob offered to put us up at his house nearby so that he could properly treat my girlfreind's burn wound, and could convalesce there overnight.

Karen's pain, drug and alcohol induced revelations of the "Plans For [ME] Up North" was the fourth 'unpredicatable event' on the evening of July 25, 1975 and the fearfully, paranoid reactions to these revelations by Greg and Kathy, who were both apparently afraid that their respective roles in these "Plans For [ME] Up North" had now been revealed to some degree, was the fifth 'unpredicatable event' for that evening and night of Friday, July 25, 1975.

In that hour just past midnight on July 26th I had no way of forseeing that it would be these very same five 'unpredicatable events' that would result in a horrific and bloody pre-planned event at 'Callahan Day's, later that night, at just after 9:00 PM, partly as retaliation for these same five 'unpredicatable events' and partly as warnings to both Greg and I, but for completely different reasons to each of us.

In Part 4 Sub part 4 of "1979" I describe the prearranged series of events that transpired after my '54 Ford pick-up truck was sabotaged en route to the San Francisco Bay for my March 1975 Easter, Rock Concert Weekend there. --- It was this same pattern pre-arranged events that were made to appear spontaneous, that previous March, that started me to wonder about the convoluted chain of events of May of 1975, that resulted in my bringing my 'friend' Greg Downard up to Yreka, to live with me in Yreka in the first place.

Though I really couldn't see a motive or an angle for it at that time in May of 1975, I became more than a little suspicious as to just how it was that all these seemingly spontaneous circumstances and events that resulted in Greg's move to live with me up north, lined up so perfectly, and now with my 'snakey' Portland girlfriend Karen's totally unexpected revelations of 'Plans For [ME] Up North' there at my friend Bob's place near Callahan, on July 25, 1975, it was crystal clear to me now that old 'freind' Greg was to be a big, big part of those 'Plans'.





As Greg and I played cards and smoked cigarettes into the early morning hours of July 26th, it was finally quiet therein the livingroom of my Bob's house in the woods near Callahan, as Karen's friend Kathy appeared to be asleep and wasn't able start nagging me again in any event, and I hadn't heard anything from Karen therein back bedroom either thank God. --- As for Bob, our host he went to sleep in the other bedroom as he had to get up early for work on a roofing job nearby, later that morning.

With the '60's and '70's rock music playing in the background, it sounded like the soundtrack to this weird fucking, all too real life, political crime-drama that I now found myself in the starring role in, as
targeted objective of those 'Plans For [Me] Up North' was precisely the kind of fascist police state bullshit that I had sought to escape from back in my hometown of Covina, and L.A. County as well, now almost 4 years after mhy friend 'Spud' Helberg's murder there in July 1971.

I remember thinking through the wafting layers of 'pot' and cigarette smoke, how weirder still, that it was Greg's apparent conspiratorial connections to those same northern 'Plans' for me, and his slavish demeanor before her 'Fucking Majesty', that 'control freaking' cunt from Portland: Kathy Doyle, that I wasn't able to account for back on Thursday, the day before we all came to 'Callahan Days' the next day and the 'shit hit the fan'.

Knowing a bit about Greg and what made him 'tick', I could conclude that Greg must have some drug charges hanging over him, that he didn't wish to tell me about. --- Let's see, that would probably be something along the lines of heroin, his recent drug of choice, or rather his choice of drug of habit. If this was the case, then it very possible, if not likely that Greg got 'busted' for possession, and or sales of this drug of all drugs, with it's mid-evil and draconian like, criminal penalties.

Assuming that this was the case, I could only conclude that Greg's brother, Deputy Benny Downard of the L.A. County Sheriff's Department, helped pressure the desperately addicted and pliable Greg into the deal to play along with the Feds to set me up. Benny actually rousted me just down the street from where I grew-up and lived in, in that unicorporated part of L.A. County, with a Covina mailing address, on my 16th birthday, (March 8, 1969), whereby I had throw my 'stash' of 'downers' into a some ivy, and retrieve it later, just after Deputy Downard searched me, right there on the street for drugs and then drove away.

As I laying there on the carpeted floor in Bob's livingroom playing cards on that hot summer's night in July 1975, I recall looking across at Greg's face thinking about the rather long drawn-out, drive up north we took together only two months before. It started out at about 7:30 AM on Memorial Day May 26th when our driver, a female U.S. Forest Service employee picked us up, in her car a late '60's
AMC sedan, that she must have picked up at a government auction, drove out from her parent's home in Glendale to pick up Greg and I at the house where I was staying in Covina during that weekend.

Our drive didn't end until the following morning of May 27th at just after 8:00 AM about 580 miles away
in Yreka, the town where I then lived, about 20 miles south of the Oregon border. --- This was because the driver that I made the trip with insisted on taking the coastal route, whereby we got on the 101 North from downtown L.A., and made that nooks and crannies like drive up the coast to
Eureka. From there went east from the coast on the scenic 299 to Redding, and then north again on Interstate 5 to Yreka, where Greg and I got off.

We were about four hours into our drive north, with the girl at the wheel who was about 22, not bad looking and who had a nice body that I felt up and down as we 'made out' in the backseat of her car
after we pulled over for some sleep on our way down to L.A. from Redding. --- She didn't want to do it as she had some kind of condition, or least that's what she told me at that time.

This was some hours after I met her thereat dusk on Thursday, May 22nd, as Dave, a guy I knew from Yreka and I, were hitching a ride back to Yreka from Redding, on the highway out of town that led to Interstate 5, during which time she persuaded me to join her, on her Memorial holiday weekend drive to Glendale, whereas said that she could use some help with the driving.

We arrived at her parent's home in Glendale at about noon the next day where her mom gave me the 'once over twice' and looked at her daughter with a curious stare, like she wanted to know if I had fucked her or not. The girl and I made plans for our return trip that following Monday, Memorial Day
May 26th and her mother made me a tuna sandwich.

I gave the girl from Glendale the phone number of the house where I would be staying and I hitched a ride over the bridge from Glendale to Pasadena and from there to Covina to home of a surfer friend of mine, until the owner of the house where I would be staying arrived home from work, and I made the rounds of my friends and my family who I hadn't seen or spoken with since September 1973, during my May '75 Memorial Day weekend visit.

It was something along the lines of an almost perfunctory afterthought, when I decided to make a last minute call to Greg and see how he was doing the night before I was make the drive back north with the girl from Glendale, the girl who I met some days before when I hitched a ride from her in Redding. This was because I really wasn't quite when I would be coming back to Covina to pick up my mini-panel van and drive it back up north. I had no idea that this call to Greg would result in his driving back up north
with the girl from Glendale and myself.

It was about noon, some fou as girl from Glendale drove her AMC sedan leisurely up U.S. 101, with me sitting 'shotgun' and Greg in the backseat as I recall, as we approached the outskirts of San Luis Obispo and Greg and I were talking about some of our adventures, and made wry witticisms, when like a couple of 'dueling banjos' we both made some 'double entendre' comments as we rolled down the highway.

As I was sitting in the front, I was seated sideways with my body towards our host, the girl who was driving, whereby it was easier for me to turn my head towards the backseat when I spoke to Greg as we skylarked down the highway of life, as both of us were 22 years old and it was beautifull day as we drove
along that scenic stretch of the 101 as it cut inland and continued to chat, when some minutes later I suddenly noticed that a late model brown sedan with two guys in suits had started tailing us.

This car looked like the standard vehicle that Narc's drove in L.A. and the 'O.C.' in the early mid-1970's
and looked like the same vintage of brown Plymouth 'Satellite's that the L.A.Sheriff's and many other law enforcement agaencies had fleets of at the time. The car was still a good distance back from us so I told
Greg about the car and casually turned my body to face the windshield whilst I kept a 'weather eye' on the right sideview mirror to see if this car was still tailing us, as we passed some exits for San Luis Obispo.

I'm pretty sure that I asked Greg if he had any warrants, traffic or otherwise and he said that he didn't
have any warrants, but that the 'tracks' on his arms were still fresh enough to get him 'popped', this as the 'Narc Brown' Plymouth Satellite,







manuevered closer to us, with the two young 'Narcs' scoping us out like a couple of human spy satellites over a secret military installation. I kept cool as I only had a little 'weed'
left on me and I could easily get rid of it if need be.

Our driver the girl, and I assured Greg that there wasn't anything to worry about as we were just three young people driving back north after our holiday visit back home in L.A. and the two guys who were apparently plain clothes cops had no reason to pull us over out of all the other cars on the road.
Greg on the other hand wasn't buying this at all, and although he didn't say much I tell he was really squirming with fear and apprehension as the cops pulled along side us and gave us the 'policeman's
stare. --- I casually smiled and a gave the cops a quick respectfull glance and then played around with the
tuner knob on the car's factory AM radio, and politely spoke with Glendale girl as we drove onwards up the 101.

The cops finally took, what must have been one the last freeway for San Luis Obispo and the clouds of
paranoia, and smell of fear seemed to clear, as the detectives went on their way and we went ours.
I wrote the whole thing off as a 'fluke' of circumstance at that time on May 26th, but now precisely
two month later, in the pre-dawn hours of June 26, 1975 I had to view this incident in a totally different

This was due to my Portland girlfriend's revelations only five-hours or so before about the 'Plans For [Me] Up North', right there, therein that very same livingroom in which I was now sitting in, followed by Greg and Kathy's super-paraniod reactions to these revelations of 'Plans', which could have only meant that they both had roles in therein whatever scripted scenarios, that were apparently set to take place at one or possibly more locations 'Up North'. --- The way that Portland cunt Kathy pulled Greg's leash without batting a fucking eye there at Bob's place, where we were all still at was yet another 'tell'.

There was also the matter as to how these Detectives in Plymouth just happened to pick us up on their radar, quite literally out the clear blue sky as we approached San Luis Obispo, which meant that these same cops may have been aware of our return route north up the U.S. 101. instead of Interstate 5 which would be the shorter, and more direct route to Redding and Yreka.

Weirder still was the way that these Narcs started tailing with only a minute or two after Greg and I were exchanging comments with 'double' and 'triple' entendre's like we did when we were in High School.
Was this female U.S. Forest Service Ranger's second hand AMC sedan, a government auction vehicle, and if Greg was yet another 'plant' in my life, it's a sure bet that the round trip ride to L.A. and back up north was prearranged and that there was a microphone of two in the car. --- Greg's comments and my sardonic replys must have come awfully close to 'hitting home', as plainly evidenced by the way in which
the Feds 'scrambled' the these guys who were most likely agents, like an F-16 jet fighter after an unscheduled flight entering restricted airspace.

This might also explain the Ranger girl's decision not to fuck me at the very last second, on that previous Thusday, as her handlers would have heard me giving her the old 'Jimbo Jam' through the electronic 'mikes' in the car and would not only have possibly caused her not only some embarrassment, but also got her in trouble with whatever federal agency that put her up to the scheme. --- It's possible that like my childhood 'freind' Greg, the Feds, FBI or whoever had something that they held over Glendale girl as well.




Portland Kathy's Assinine Arguments Prompt Me To Wonder What Kathy's Real Motives Are For Insisting That I Risk All Of Our Lives By Driving Karen Back To The Hospital In Yreka -- It Was As If She Was Being Directed By Others -- I Suspect She Has One Of Those 'Wireless Phone' In Her Large Purse Like The One I Read About In 1973 -- Siskiyou Telephones Microwave Network In Callahan Could Easily Provide Service oul;d






Ironically enough it was to be three years later, after the fiery, bizarre and bloody events at 'Callahan Days' in July '75, that I was to be involved yet another bizarre and near fatal incident involving a 'wireless phone', this time a car phone, that was installed in a pick up truck and took place only about 15 miles northeast of Callahan on September 1, 1978 therein a wilderness area located near Edgewood, California.
This is covered in Part 9 Sub Part 4 of "1979" / 1979westbrook.com which I have not yet posted as of this time in the late summer of 2018.



Saturday Morning July 26, 1975 Breakfast At Bob's After A Few Hours Sleep After Karen's Spontaneous Combustion At 'Callahan Days' The Evening Before, Followed By Karen's 'Exocist' Bitch Like Antics And Horrifying Revelations Of 'Plans For [Me] Up North' -- This Was Followed By Kathy's Hours Long Marathon Arguments To Drive Back To Yreka -- My 'Total Recall' Of The Events Of My Memorial Day Weekend '75 Trip To L.A.

Reflecting On 'Road Games' Moments After Girlfriend's 'Plans' For Me 'Up North'
Meeting Her At Vacaville A 'CIA' Mind Control, Mecca 'Labor Day' '74 ---
A Satanic 'Rock' Easter '75 In 'Frisco' Coinciding With A 'Hit' On A Saudi King

Girlfreind Wakes Up In A Conciliatory Mood --- Bob Drives Into Callahan
To Get Some Groceries --- Love & Kisses Over Breakfast With Girlfriend ---

Acting Like I Never Heard
About The 'Plans' For Me 'Up North' --- I Console Her And Apologize For Her
Burn Injury, Resulting Pain & Hysteria From The Stick Matches I Gave Her

Sleeping Past Noon --- Our Return To The 'Callahan Jubillee' --- Girlfriend &
Portland Kathy Study Me Closely Over Girlfriend's 'Slip' About 'Plans' For Me
'Up North'





Our Return 'Callahan Days' And My Late Morning Nap There -- My Post Traumatic Stress From The Night Before Turns To Jubilation As I Begin To Fully Appreciate The Significance Of Karen's Unintended Revelations Of 'The Plans For Me Up North' As What Can Only Best Be Described Thereas An Intelligence Coup' For Me -- I Make The Rounds Through The Crowds At 'Callahan Days' With The Pretty Young Things Karen & Kathy On Each Arm -- This As I Smoke 'Joints', 'Hash' & Who Knows What Else Being Passed My Way -- I Also Drink Beer And Various Other Kinds Of Alcohol Laced With Drugs As A
I Make 'Flip' Remarks and Merry Jest With These Two Bitches I Don't Trust But Keep





Greg's Retaliatory Stabbing At 'Callahan Days' Saturday Night July 26, 1975

Kathy Mid '70's Wireless Phone Used As A Communications Link To Direct Kathy And Karen To Lead Me To That Dark And Noisey Corner Of A Crowd At Precisely The Same Time That Greg Was Being Stabbed So That Greg Would Fall Bleeding Into My Arms Seconds Laters



The Scarey Ass 40 Drive Back To Yreka On Highway 3 As Greg Goes In And Out of Conciousness, From Shock From Loss Of Blood Falling Forward Like He Just Died -- A Stream Of Yreka Cop Cars And CHP Lights On Sirens Blaring All The Way To Yreka Hospital


The Yreka Cops Don't Arrest Me As They Didn't Want My Account Of Greg's Stabbing In The Police Report Nor Did They Contact In The Following Days It Was A Replay Of My Friend 'Spud' Helberg's Sword Attack, Interrogation And Murder In July '71



A Scarey 40 Mile Ride Back To Yreka, As Greg Goes In And Out of Conciousness, Still Bleeding

I Load Everyone Into The VW 'Bug' With Greg Still Bleeding From His Multiple Knife Wounds
For A Harrowing 40 Mile Drive To Yreka --- Greg Passes In And Out Of Conciousness, As I Drive Karen's 'Bug' Through The Twisting Turns, Dips On Highway 3 At Night --- A Line Of Police Cars Trails Outside Yreka, They Back Off At Hospital As I Help Carry Greg To The Emergency Room






I Load Everyone Into The VW 'Bug' With Greg Still Bleeding From His Multiple Knife Wounds
For A Harrowing 40 Mile Drive To Yreka --- Greg Passes In And Out Of Conciousness, As I Drive Karen's 'Bug' Through The Twisting Turns, Dips On Highway 3 At Night --- A Line Of Police Cars Trails Outside Yreka, They Back Off At Hospital As I Help Carry Greg To The Emergency Room

A Near Fatal Warning To Greg And A Message To Me

Motive For Greg's Stabbing: A Staged Act Of Revenge On Greg And A Warning To Others,
Over Greg's Failure To Buy Lighters Resulting In My Purchase Of Stick Matches, That Led To Girlfriend's 'Spontaneous Combustion' And Her Revelations Of 'Plans For [Me] Up North'
Making Sure Greg's Bloody Body Fell In My Arms Was Punishment For Keeping Karen At Bob's
In Callahan --- There Was Also The Element Of Intimation To Terrorize Me As Well



To the best of my recollection Karen and Kathy drove around Yreka and on up to a record store in Ashland and possibly Medford as well,
however after the events that were to unfold during 'Callahan Days' days later, I suspect that the trips to Ashland and Medford, served as 'cover' for Karen and Kathy to go over and recieve instructions for whatever kind of 'frame up' 'scam' that the Feds were then planning to run on me at that time in July '75. -- More on this later in Part 4 Sub Part 7.

This was after the night of July 26th after I had driven Karen's VW 'Bug' through some 40 miles of twisting, turning and hilly Highway 3, before hitting the outskirts of Yreka at 80 miles per hour, with Greg there in the passenger seat next to me, going in and out of conciousness and shock, bleeding to death from the dozen or more knife wounds he received at 'Callahan Days', with Karen and Kathy in the backseat, and the long line of CHP and Yreka cop cars, lights flashing, sirens screaming in 'hot pursuit' all the way to the Yreka Hospital.

Cult Like Ritual Aspects And Military 'Black Ops' Like Precision Reads Like A Road Map Where CIA Mind Control, Satanic Ritual And Military 'Black Op's All Intersect -- Greg's Stabbing An Intel Mafia Like Retaliatory Act For Greg's 'Fuck Up' That Led To Karen's Revelations Of The 'Plans For Me Up North'
-- Greg's Being Thrown Out Of The Dark And Noisey Crowd And Into My Arms With A Dozen Bloody Knife Wounds In His Back -- A 'Psy Ops' Show Of Power And A Retaliatory Message For Opposing Portland Kathy's Arguments To Take Karen Back To Yreka








You may wish to read the cover story article on Ms. Steinem there in May 30 - June 5, 1975
edition Berkeley Barb, if so simply click on the image link of Gloria directly above.

From My Visits To Portland In Late 1974 Through Early 1975, I Knew That Kathy Doyle Was An Avid Reader Of 'Ms. Magazine' & Admirer Of Gloria Steinem -- In Late May Only Some 8 Weeks Before The 'Callahan Days' Music Festival On July 25 - 27, 1975 Ms. Steinem Had Been 'Outed' As A CIA Agent In 'Feminist Sheep's Skin' Diguise Sent To Subvert And Derail The Women's Lib Movement Then At It's Height In 1975

Back in May '75 I had already heard and read about Gloria Steinem's reputed CIA connections. at which time I was living with Karen, my 'Girlfriend' from Portland, who moved Yreka six-months before in November '74.

There were a lot of other kids and young people who like me were refugees from big cities all across the U.S. and West Coast living in Yreka during this time and some of them were pretty 'clued in' on the buzz from the underground grapevines that carried news and other information that one would never hear or read about in the mainstream media and press at that time during the height of the post Watergate era in in 1975, which made the malaise at that time.

The U.S. pullout in Vietnam in March and April '75 seemed to underscore the feeling of loss and misdirection that America was heading towards at that time.

I had known about 'Rich Brat Gone Radical', Patty Hearst's covert links to the FBI and her links to the CIA through her reported connections to the 'SLA' terror that was put together at the Vacaville Prison-medical facility in California, which I was then reputed to be a CIA mind control experiment center as well.

I viewed my live-in Girlfriend Karen as some kind police informant and FBI 'plant' since the day I met her back on Labor Day, September 2, 1974 and that it was her job to eventually 'sucker' me into moving up to Portland.

Karen's stupid lie about the location of Pocatello at our apartment on Lane St. in Yreka on July 24th, the day before the start of the 'Callahan Days' music festival on July 25, 1975 only confirmed my suspicions all the more.

Now with Karen's friend from Portland, Kathy Doyle having just come down to spend a week with us in Yreka capped off by our planned weekend at 'Callahan Days' July 25-27, 1975, I had to wonder If Kathy Doyle didn't have her own links to the CIA as well, as she was then at that in 1975, the arch-typical mid-seventies 'Womens Lib' female who was also an admirer of Gloria Steinem as reputed CIA operative installed by the agency as one the most important leaders of the Women's movement in the 1970's.

Now what with my discovery that very night on July 25, 1975, that Karen's friend Portland Kathy was most apparently involved in the 'Plans For [ME] Up North' -- I was certain that Kathy had come to Yreka on July 20th, and had now came with us to the 'Callahan Days' music festival to spend the weekend -- I was certain that Kathy Doyle was CIA connected as well, vis-a-vis through her connections to the Women's movement in Portland.

It was there in wake of Karen's spontaneous combustion at 'Callahan Days' and later Karen's revelation of the 'Plans For [Me] Up North' the night of July 25, 1975, I had to surmise that like Karen my Girl, that Kathy her 'sister' classmate at Monroe High, were both drawn into, recruited and indoctinated into the CIA-Steinem brand of 'Women's Liberation' during the time they both spent at the all girls Monroe High School in Portland from 1969 through 1973.

I suspected that Monroe High also served as CIA front togirls into the kind of Women's Lib agenda espoused by CIA agent Gloria Steinem and their ilk.

Three years later in June 1978 Monroe High was closed down, some 9 months before things came to nuclear meltdown like chain of events for me there in Portland in March 1979. -- I go into all this in greater detail therein Part 8 Sub Part 5 of "1979" / 1979westbrook.com

I could only surmise that the episodic closure of Monroe High June '78 was performed as part of the 'pre-frame-up' cover-up I was being set up for at the Portland Hilton in March 1979, whereby the media focus aimed at me as a 'patsy' might shine some light on the CIA links to Monroe High and members of their staff.



Karen's other solo activites there in Yreka, prior to Kathy's July '75 visit there were undoubtedly well known to many of the Yreka locals and took place when I was out working, visiting with friends, reading at the Siskiyou County library or out hiking and landscape drawing by myself.

Forgive me if I seem a little blase' about all this, but by July '75, I had already gathered various bits of information regarding Karen's other activities and her visits to the 'Log Cabin' bar and other Yreka haunts as well from a number of sources, without letting on that I knew.
-- I would simply internalize all this as I was waiting for the day when Karen would finally suggest that we move up to Portland to live.

I was of several different trains of thought and emotions when it came to Karen who was apparently a 'plant' for the Feds and FBI who was installed in my life on Labor Day September 2, 1974 in Vacaville, California not far from the Vacaville Prison Medical complex

By 1974 the Vacaville Prison Medical complex was already a well known CIA-military mind control center with links to then so called 'fugitive' Patty Hearst, who was actually an FBI informant with CIA connections and the 'SLA' terrorist group founded there by other CIA agents such as Colston Westbrook* and others in the early 1970's. (*No relation to I James T. Westbrook, author of "1979" /1979westbrook.com)

Click on the image link below to read about 'Rich Brat' gone 'Radical' and CIA-FBI informant Patty Hearst.

Karen's Friend Kathy From Portland Had Some Very Powerfull CIA, FBI And Police Connections In Yreka And Apparently Callahan As Well In July '75 -- It Wasn't Until After Karen's Spontaneous Combustion At 'Callahan Days' And Her Revelations Of 'Plans For Me Up North' On July 25th That I Became Aware Of This Fact -- Greg's Intel-Satanic Cult Like Stabbing There Next Night Was A CIA 'Psy Ops' Threat To Me

There was so much else that I was busy with during that week in Yreka in late July '75 that I can't say if Kathy drove her car, a late model Datsun B 210 coupe down to Yreka or not, but if Kathy did I am pretty sure that she would have driven us all to 'Callahan Days' in it.

After 'Callahan Days' '75 I suspected that the actual reason that Kathy didn't drive her car down from Portland to Yreka, was that it might have drawn some unwanted attention to her and Karen during Kathy's visit as there weren't so many people or cars there at that time that Kathy's car wouldn't have been to hard spot wherever they went in it, possibly some friends or locals that I knew.

This plus the fact that the was a covert agenda set up for me there at 'Callahan Days' in july and that this may have involved the possible use of 'body doubles' or imposters to act out some scripted scenarios, there with Karen, Kathy and my 'friend' Greg whose life I saved back in late July '71, at least in considerable part until this rather awesome girl named Luana, arrived on the scene and took charge of the matter of bringing Greg back to life as his near lifeless body, turned paler and grew colder by the second.


Portland Kathy's Covert Agenda And Likely Motives To Get Karen To The Hospital In Yreka Where She Could Be Defused By Doctors There -- Doctors Like Dr.Jolyon West Of UCLA With A History Of CIA MK-ULTRA Mind Control Research Experience -- One A Yreka Doctor With Links To The March '75 Smith River 'Mass Murders' Others From Redding -- Karen's Suggestion That We Spend Weekends At Motels In Crescent City Only 12 Miles South Of Smith River In Late '74 And Early '75 -- Why Crescent City ? -- After 'Callahan Days' July '75 I Thought I Knew Why



















When I Saw The Front Page Photos Of The Flaming PSA 727 Plumetting To Earth In The Skies Over San Diego 3 Years Later In Septermber '78 I Immeditately Thought Of 'Callahan Days' In July '75 In And How It Was My Friend Bob From San Diego Who Was Key There In My Discovery Of The 'Plans For Me Up North' -- The Mid Air 'Take Out' Also Reminded Me Of The June '71 Mid Air Of An Air West 727 Near Bradbury Only 8 Miles From Where I Then Lived In Azusa And All The Bizarre Links It Had To Other Then Recent Crashes