Berkeley 74-76 My Story

[Sons to Glory!]

I was in Berkeley 74-76. It was pretty good overall and definitely “interesting!” The group there was in originally meeting in CJs Old Garage down on wild & woolly Telegraph Avenue. I was 18 and had hair down the middle of my back, and had just hitchhiked 2500 miles to Berkeley from Ohio. Straightaway I was led to this meeting place, which was a miraculous answer to prayer (another story). I was invited to live in an old frat house with about 30-40 (or more?) brothers, many who had just basically come off the streets, like I did. We all just loved Jesus & the gatherings were loud, glorious and spontaneous. Several of us in this frat house went to work doing landscaping, and we used an old panel truck with "Warring Brothers" painted on the side (the house was on Warring Street). We'd pull up to someone's house, and about eight of us long-haired brothers would pile out of the back of the truck and gang-attack the job.

This type of Christian communal living was how I thought I would live for the rest of my life! I was so thankful to be there, with all the bros, simply loving Jesus every day . . .

Then disaster struck. Evidently the powers that be (southern CA) decided that this house was not a healthy, normal arrangement and told the leading ones in the house (I think one's name was Doug Kruger) they needed to close it and move all the brothers into families and more normal situations. I was devastated. The house's leading ones decided they would instead move the group to Sacramento, where the church was open to having us. I was torn and didn't know which direction to go. But I decided (after some pretty good heated discussions) to stay in Berkeley and moved into a smaller frat house right next door. This was called Hosanna House, and had about 6-8 single brothers and a couple or two living there.

So with my new short-hair persona and shiny new wingtip shoes (yes, that's right), I got an office mailroom job. But I felt like a fish out of water. The ones at Hosanna House were really nice and cared for me, but sorry to say I did them wrong (actually stole from one of them), and left to return to Ohio.

In Ohio I tried once again to fit in with old friends, but that didn't work well as I definitely knew I didn't belong there - that wasn't who I was at all any more. So after about a year, I returned to Ba-zerkely. The saints had purchased a big old stone denominational building a couple blocks closer to campus, and away from crazy Telegraph Ave. I remember things being a little more formal at the new place, but still pretty fresh & living. I lived in a building right on the church property with some others. Saints were good to me as I recall. A short time later I wound-up living with a couple just north of Berkeley in Albany, and they had a couple other bros living there (Eric Henke & Dorian Plunkett - from Perth, Australia). Betsy, the wife, was very sweet, and told stories how she had come across the Manson Family in her hippie days. The husband, David, had some pretty bad anger management issues that he was dealing with, as I recall. But my MO those days was to wander, so the short story is that after some period - not sure exactly how long - I left and went back to Ohio. It would take the Lord many years to “pin me down” (like Jacob’s wrestling match).

So that was my wild Church in Berkeley experience. Anybody around then?