Bio -Born: 6/5/54 Marion General Hospital

 

MOM Sondra Lee Jevas Evans, 1935-2007

The following is an approximation of my presentation for Sondra's memorial celebration @ the Rose Center she dreamed into being in Westminster, California, March 22, 2007:

 

Hello, I am Sondra’s son Fred and I am cultivating an attitude of gratitude. At least I declare that a lot lately hoping I will eventually succeed.

Sondra was my mother and I miss her beyond belief, beyond grief. She stimulated my intellect, mostly by example. As a child, Sondra often spoke to me as an adult. Almost as often I was not up to the task but was always happy to have her respect.

 

        An iconoclastic mother like Sondra at times could be frustrating for a child. After all, she wasn’t Harriet Nelson. Not by a long shot. “Why don’t you bake cookies like other moms?” I asked. But she was very busy studying and teaching college, working in theater and following other mysterious pursuits; things that strained a fourth grader’s patience or understanding.

       

        Yet somehow Sondra managed to serve a stint as my Boy Scout Troop Den Mother. When we scouts were assigned to perform a skit at my elementary school, Sondra applied her creative writing skills and delivered the script. Naturally, it was a science fiction story. I cannot recall much about the story itself, but evidently it was so well written that not only did we win in the competition, we scouts went all the way to Hollywood and performed on the Bozo the Clown TV show. In addition, other Sondra-directed plays she cast me in include: Our Town & Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Momma’s Hung You in the Closet & I’m Feeling So Sad. Thanks mom, for those shots at stardom.

       

        Speaking of science fiction, I recall a school night when Sondra woke me up to watch a special movie that was on our little black & white TV. She said it was very important I see this movie, even if it was well past my bedtime. The movie? Only Forbidden Planet merited a special exception. It wasn’t until the mid ‘70s when I attended a 50-hour science fiction film marathon that I saw this classic on the widescreen in all its colorful glory. Thanks mom for turning me onto that movie, The Twilight Zone and all manner of great work in this still-exciting genre.

       

        Several years later when I was a troubled pre-teen living in Ohio, mom shipped me a copy of Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus, an existential analysis she supposed would make it that much easier for me to deal with the absurdities, the typical trials, the tribulations and sufferings of pubescent angst.

       

        Then in the summer of 1967 while visiting her in Southern California, Sondra asked me what I wanted for my 13th birthday. I requested Jefferson Airplane’s album Surrealistic Pillow. Mom was happy to give me that, but she insisted I also receive a copy of the Beatles’ Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band album. I may be a bit fuzzy about the details, but we did listen to it together. Interestingly, she was the one who first revealed to me that ‘Lucy in the Sky w/ Diamonds’ was a tribute to the LSD experience.

 

        Of course, I was never the same again, thanks to Mom Sondra’s sharing such eclectic gifts with her young son.

 

        These are just some of the Sondra snippets recently recalled from the murky depths of my imperfect memory. I selected them for sharing because they demonstrate how special she was. I am blessed to have these memories for which I am so grateful. Thank you, Mom Sondra.

 

        Today I am grateful as well for this celebration in honoring my mom, yet also for those of us still living: family and friends, especially aunt Marge, my dear friend Damian, my son Aaron and my partner Lory, without whom none of this would have been possible for me.

 

 



 

Walkabout in Marion 1983+(?)
 
I had been absent from Ohio for many years during which I had visits to California from the grandparents. I was engaged in my nascent journalism career (that, in retrospect today, I sadly say, ended). Brickley family was wherever they were, likely Oklahoma City. So not much call for visiting hometown. I was deeply involved with a bizarre marriage/relationship (on both our parts), so I didn’t get out much.
 
The untimely demise of my grandfather, because of a surgery from a nervous but very loyal & dedicated (even competent) surgeon (the procedure should have been done in Columbus, altho the stats predicted 99.9% success in most venues). He had the prostrate issue we males all face sooner or later. It compromised his ability to work (long surgeries) & travel (to other lands). What is today even safer was then not so safe.
 
The ensuing death was devastating, as one would expect, if one tended to preemptively think of such things
 
I found myself in Marion again, after perhaps 9 years. What I didn’t expect was the missing geographic touchstones. They weren’t really missing, with the exception of the ‘I Went Back to Ohio (My City Was Gone)’ paradigm.
 
No, it was the curiosity of what was around the corner. How many times had I walked to Franklin from Mt. Vernon? Let alone, how many times had I (and we) walked from there to downtown, and beyond?
 
What I experienced was much like in the film Dark City: as I turned a corner the landscape seemed to take form from nothing more than my mind & memory.
During that time and for a while beyond, I wandered the streets of Marion reveling in this strange florescence. It was both baffling & enchanting. I can surmise now that it was not a senior moment then, altho there had been mitigating circumstance that could have clouded my memory. Yet, nothing like today’s cobwebs of the mind had I then. One absent element: fear. As usual, I have been and am still very afraid. Marion has always been what I would call a ‘hard’ town. But during these hikes I was not very much afraid of what I would find around the next corner.
 
Vine Ave, Yes!
 
Franks, gone! The store at the south/east corner of Church & Main? It featured furniture but they also sold hi-fi albums. I bought Jefferson Airplane, Iron Butterfly & Aoxomoxoa there. Gone! A Parking lot. Pizza Villa, long gone. Was it Mom’s, across the street. I didn’t spend much time there, but it was something. Army Surplus Store. Munn & Son Barbershop?
 
At least there is (or was) still Danny’s pizza. Last time I was there, the famous brag-about crust was no longer flakey, thin & exploding w/ air pockets. Still, Marion has been the best pizza town I have lived in.
 
As the years and visits ticked by, I indulged in the Walkman walking trip, often times lysergicly, usually listening to The Doors, After Bathing at Baxter’s, Europe ’72, The Dark Side of the Moon. Sometimes Talking Heads or the Go Gos would be cued up. The Eighties were strange, as all decades, centuries, epochs & moments now seem.
 
One particularly odd, for me, moment was one early morning (2-3 a.m.???) stroll through the graveyard, listening Jim Morrison belt out Back Door Man (what do the little girls understand, and how little are they, anyway?) when I saw, off in the distance, a busy scene. A bit caught off guard & nervous that I might be detected, I carefully moved closer, to about 100 yards, when I observed that they were simply folks sledding! How bizarre! Were they grownups w/ kids, kids without grownups, grownups only? A mix? At 2, or 3, in the morning? I assumed only miscreants and anthropologist were up & about at this hour.
 
I’ll never know. I didn’t think it wise to be seen, lest there might be explanations in order, officer.
 
Another time, returning late night from the OK Café, in the dead of winter in icy slick conditions, I strolled past (forgot the street names, but certainly could Google for the route), a 9-foot fence behind which was the light laughter and conviviality of what sounded, to me then, at least, young nubile women, likely naked, in some fat cat’s sauna/Jacuzzi. These were white powder daze, so of course I assumed he had a bigger rock than I did. Now, I realize that is silly. She might have had a bigger rock than I!
 
The walk route usually extended from around Harding High to the graveyard/Memorial, winding to West then East Center & downtown. Occasionally I would venture beyond, usually in search watering holes with good music and young, attractive & willing women. This usually was not to be, but the journey was worth it anyway (at least now as I sit comfortably & fondly writing this).
 
Today, there is little reason for me to expect ever returning to Marion, unless I assume a life of luxury and community service (vis a vis the Lottery), or another death or two.
 
If I walk about Marion again, I will now use the iPOD technology I acquired for camp AOXOMOXOA @ Burning Man last year. It’s cool, but you can’t carry extra batteries & those interruptions between Scarlet/Fire or China Cat Sunflower/I Know You Rider are really annoying.
 
If the Memorial ever unscrews for me again, as it did once in 1969 for both Scott & I, then I'll know that I have found home. As great as it's been since then, it's never been better. Only different.
 
Aaron, Lory, my other family (Mom).
 
Burning Man, DMT, Blade Runner, Reason Magazine, Sierra Nevada & other craft brews: all good stuff to me these days.
 
Keep on walkin'! And talkin'!
 
Fred D. Smith

 

 

 

Links to personal or business sites - 

www.dead.net

The Dead, among the most cherished trips I've known then and still do through the regular release of great music from the 'vault'. Even today they can brings tears of joy to my (yours, ours, their?) eyes and a light step to my (yours, ours, their?) feet, among other things. Check out website for ordering CDs, if interested now or later. Some have described a 'show' as a scared experience, a la church, w/o the dogma. ("you got that right, 'bro'." - Rick Parsons)

More on this when I get to it...

Check the dead.net link for new releases of old music available from the 'store'. The sound quality is quite remarkable, as, naturally, is the music. The band recorded almost everything they played & the tapes from the archive have allowed to date (12/27/05) 36 releases in the Dick's Picks series, as well a more than a dozen other unrelated releases. Their long career is represented, although the early 70s seem a bit more represented than other eras. Great music for the gym & more. Advised to attempt listening to it @ loud volume for best effects.

In addition to the real thing, there is a cover band that is truly amazing & occasionally play, among other places, The Ledges in Ohio. If you have the opportunity & inclination, check out: http://www.darkstarorchestra.net/

For the free speech & free media crowd, check out http://www.eff.org/ , a hip outfit co-founded by Dead lyricist John Perry Barlow http://homes.eff.org/~barlow/. These folks are fighting the good fight to keep the internet unregulated & more. I recently played a 1996 Firing Line debate where Barlow was a guest. It was quite a show (arguing censorship of truly offensive porn was not a good idea because of the very nature of the medium as well as even if effective, letting a community standard in Peoria determine what someone in San Francisco sees was not advisable, let alone people doing searches for breast cancer or contraception could be restricted as well& worse on

burningman.com

Note: Burning Man is an event like no other before. It is tribal, techno, retro, psychedelic and sexy. The unique quality of having a 'safe' space for manifesting creativity, self expression through whatever moves or is moved by you, make Black Rock City's temporary persona a warm and fuzzy place to be. Worth checking out. This year's tix just went on sale today 1-27-03. Check website if interested now, or later. More on this later....
 


Dedication to Scott at Burning Man 2003

 

 

Erowid


Personal info about home and family/families MARION O  CALIF SOUTHERN MARION< and on and on and on (Florida, a bit)

Sheet, and other, metal plant shipping supervisor now. Oh no, we're likely to downsize!

Was (and still remember heyday of) journalist: photographer, reporter, columnist, editor, drug addict, sexual guy.

Now I like beer a lot, usually micros

Desert Island List ( top ten favorites ) The challenge: what would drive the power for the desert island song (jazz), lights for the reading, feed the poor hungry marooned castaways?

Assuming a power source and e-purchases, there are some(s, sums?)

Welly welly welly, not sure up to challenge

Oh well, not in order:..

Saucerful of Secrets, Floyd

Atom Heart Mother, Floyd

American Beauty, Dead

Dick's Pick's 27 (currently /1-30-03 21:25:00,.... and on and on and on and one..., blasting, premier of '92 show, in this living room on 1-30-03)

Beethoven's 9th symphony, most versions

Blind Faith (et al)

Decade/Live Rust, Young

Infrared Rose (Dead weird stuff compilation, mostly late-Dead psycheldelia)

Can't say

Don't know

Any Bach

mostly Mozart

Lotsa Dead

so forth &

so on,

You get the picture.

Hey, how do those guys like Chip 'n' Marc get all those great photos on their site?

Not to mention the wonderfulness of Chips fonts>

 

How? Huh?

Just kidding. Going to TRON it soon enough.

This is still fun

More later, some 'R' stuff might slip in, watch for NC-17 (we wish!)

sometimes you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look @ it right?

who said that>?

I know

You should

Just pontificating.

I'll try to minimize that, yet if I don't, who will? If not now, then when? (re: Terence McKenna's enduring tease-to-action from the 80's/90's raps)

 

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grrrr! learning..... grrrr!

ok, it seems to work. uhm, ok, let's go..

This is NICK, sometime, early time, perhaps 1973

 Well, they say he's Dr. Rude. I dunno.

This portrait is definitely about on or sometime say 1971 when I dropped by and was visiting Marion O and was scheduled to leave Columbus Airport soon but, oh no, scott says I gotta come and see him before I go because, well, he was unclear as to why. Upon arrival @ dad's office scott presented me w/, well, something strange and edgy. we all know the rest.

 wow, remember this?

you all know who you are.

 As a photojournalist in S. Cal's Mojave  High Desert I had the blessing to meet & groove w/ fellow reporter Damian Mann, shown here during a shoot, interview about biofeedback. Mr. Mann lives in Oregon and works for the Medford paper. He is married to Kathleen. John McClure, greatest friend in California after relocating west from Marion. He was first Deadster I met, and many things more. He's gone, nothin's going to bring him back. RIP Myself self-portrait when I first lived alone in 1988 in Barstow, High Desert Mojave, CA Worked for Desert Dispatch daily paper. Learned first-hand about go-fast powder

 

..  

 

  

 

  

 

  

  

 
F.Aaron Smith, circa mid 90's, Forestville, CA. His 'Fidel' stage, although he'd take umbrage w/ that, being libertarian and all Last year @ Dead Sea camp during the FLOATING WORLD Burning Man event. Myself & Carolyn Garcia (aka Mountain Girl) @ Light the Song event in west PA, circa 1996 F. Aaron Smith w/ Mr. Ed in front of furiously blooming (mescaline/shamanic) San Pedro cactus, back porch, 2001, Santa Rosa, ca. (?)Grandmother Evelyn Smith w/ Lory Osterhuber & myself ()) @ EPCOT center, FLA, circa 1993 BurningMan friends, probably the EYES OF THE WORLD camp, 2000
 

 

  

 

  

 

  

  
Is Is it possible to write below photo as in all other western civilized publications? Guess so. Lory @ our first collision w/ Burningman, 2-day encounter that changed us all forever., six years ago, (1997)

 Four generations, 1979/80? TERENCE McKENNA, somewhere in time. RIP Me, myself & I showing off when I was consumed by temporal concerns, LUCERNE VALLEY< Mojave Desert, 1998, or so. Before quitting go fast Peace March SF January 2003

Lory & Fred & 19,9998 (+ or-)

 F. Aaron Smith, circa 1980(?)
what's this?  

  
Lory and myself 2001 Thanksgiving, walk after dinner, photo by Lory's brother Randall (Osterhuber)

 Another four generations, circa 1955 Wow, Margie, something's growing in the closet!!

 





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