Eugene M. McLendon interview with “Gringo”

The John Burrison Georgia Folklore Archive recordings contains unedited versions of all interviews. Some material may contain descriptions of violence, offensive language, or negative stereotypes reflecting the culture or language of a particular period or place. There are instances of racist language and description, particularly in regards to African Americans. These items are presented as part of the historical record. This project is a repository for the stories, accounts, and memories of those who chose to share their experiences for educational purposes. The viewpoints expressed in this project do not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the Atlanta History Center or any of its officers, agents, employees, or volunteers. The Atlanta History Center makes no warranty as to the accuracy or completeness of any information contained in the interviews and expressly disclaims any liability therefore. If you believe you are the copyright holder of any of the content published in this collection and do not want it publicly available, please contact the Kenan Research Center at the Atlanta History Center at 404-814-4040 or reference@atlantahistorycenter.com. In the recording, an anonymous interviewee who goes by the name Gringo recalls several funny stories about himself and others encountering police officers while in possession of drugs. Then at 7:24 he tells one in which a friend gets high off Epsom salt. To close the interview, at 8:19 Gringo tells two stories about police officers themselves partaking in drugs: one knowingly, when smoking a joint from a bartender at a local club during closing, and the other unknowingly, when drinking liquid LSD from a Listerine bottle. Gringo (approximately 1929-?) joined the Marine Corps, then subsequently worked as a waiter in Atlanta, Georgia, where during the 1970s, he was a part of the hippy counterculture. He married twice. No additional biographical information has been determined. FOLK TALE PROJECT FOR FOLK TALE 301 11CONVERSATIONS WITH A HIPPIE11 Submitted by Eugene M. McLendon 10 55 Piedmont, N.E. Atlanta, Georgia May 31, 1974 These stories have a unifying theme, in that they are part of the repetoire of one person who has a natural flair for story-telling. He is nick-named Gringo, and, although I have known him for several years, I do not know his given name. Unfortunately, the tapes and the transcripts can give only a partial recreation of the story telling event. Gringo is a Taurus; and anyone who knows anything about Astrology, could tell that, after talking with r~im for several minutes. He is a short, stocky man, with a very ruddy complexion, He has shoulder length, gold hair, a full beard of the same color, and bright, blue eyes that hardly ever are still. He spent some years in the Marine Corps, and still carries himself very well. He has a pleasant voice, and speaks quite rapidly and most colorfully, always. He is a very extroverted person, and, in the years I've known him, I have never seen him in anything but an expansive, enthusiastic, mood. All these qualities come into play when he starts telling stories; his eyes look he;:,ven-ward, to register amazement; dart from side to side for wariness. His voice automatieally changes from character to character, squeezing every bit of possible drama and humour out of each situation. When he is talking, bursts of laughter are frequent, yet, all of this is done so naturally, one does not recognize it for what it is - showmanship. When I met Gringo,, the 11Hip11 culture was very much alive and wel 1 in Atlanta. To begin with, in my experience, the words 11hippy11 or 11hip11 were very seldom used, and only then, in regard to what 11 rednecks 11 or 11 tourists 11 expected to see, when they came down to the 10th street area. llor example, "hey, let's go out and play 'Hippy' for the tourists!" The term 11Hip11 was generally understood to refer to a porno magazine that was sold on the curb, along with the 11 Gre1J,t Speckled Bird", to tourists in their cars. Tour is ts were Page Two the people who came down in cars every night to stare at the people on the sidewalk; 11red-necks 11 were the same people, when they showed hostile tendencies, and bigoted or limited views. 11 Touris ts 11 were also known as 11 crickets11 , from the sound of the car doors being locked as they approached 10th St. '1'he inhabitants of this area refer to themselves as either 11 hea.ds 11 or II freaks". Freak is the term I prefer. Frei,.ks supported themselves in many ways, some legalsome, almost so, some definitely not. The more colorful ones supported themselves by 11 spare changing", i.e., begging. Others might work out of Labor pools, sell magazines on the street, sell flowers, have p2,rttime or full time jobs, or sell dope - or, any combination of the above. These jobs usually meant plenty of idle time, and, as a result, uBually, little money. '1:here was also a. strong in-group feeling. Freaks would spend a lot of time drinking beer in bars, drinking wine at home, smoking grass, or just sitting together on the street, or in the park. These factors all coming together .would seem to make ideal conditions for the growth of a strong storytelling condition. But, one other essential thing was needed: time. The freak culture in Atlanta, at least, lasted for only four or five years, and thus, wasn't able to get a full body of folklore established. Dne other important concept to be kept in mind, is the freak attitude toward drugs. Gringo used to have a motto: he would do any dope that he could smoke smoke, drop or snort. 'l'his refers to three ways of ingesting drugs: (1) smoking, i.e., marijuana. (2) dropping, i.e., take or "drop" a pill or tablet orally, and (3) snort, 1.e., to inhale wlth a quick sniff, a powder, very similar to the way that snuff was taken ln the 18th century. It will be noticed that one Page Three method, "shooting", is left off of his list. It was taken as fact, that, any drug which required a syringe was bad 11 1<a rma11 ( would lead to trouble). All other drugs were considered safe, within certain limits. These limits were decided by common sense, actual medical knowled.ge ( some pre-med students\ were part-time freaks), and the collective wisdom of the group. Of course, some of these so-called 11 safe 11 drugs were recognized as potentially dangerous, and were thus indulged J.n with a great deal of caution. I'm referring, particularly, to amphetamines and barbiturates, "uppers and downers". But, people who became hooked-addJ. cted, to these, usually clustered together in their own separate sub-groups. Once again, Gringo S1'!mmed up the freak attitude to that bugbear of the establishment, marijuana (grass), when he sal.d what he wanted his epl.taph to be - 110-deed on weed11 (O.D. means over-dosed), and weed, once again refers to marijuana. ~'he humour of this, lies in the fact th2t, in all of recorded history, there has not been one death attributed to the takh1g of too much marijuana, and the person who managed to smoke himself to death would indeed be an epic-hero among his peers! Gringo, himself, worked as a heacl.-wai ter ir, a. downtown restaurant. 'l'his gave him plenty of time to indulge in his :favorite past-time which was indulging himself in sny sensual way what-so-ever, (remember, he's a Taurus!), and talking. He v1a.s universally respected for his good qualities; openness, honesty, and his absoJ.ute refusal to say a bad thing about anybody. He now is about 4.5 ye,..rs old, though he loolrn and acts 30, He lived as s bachelor, although he was separated from his wife; duw:h1g this tl.me, he supported her entirely. She dled recently, rnd Gringo immediately re-married, Page Four gave up his 11bad11 , (good), car, his bad habits, and is now driving a. c13.b six days a week. I accidentally ran into him the other day, and explained that I had a Folklore project, and aslrnd if he knew any 11 hippy11 stories. He.V<1J1unteered to come over to the apartment that afternoon, since his cab was being repoired, but he could only stay for two hours. He brought over a chess board, and we played chess, drank beer, and talked about old friends. Sudd0nly, I reo.lized vie had only about fifteen minutes, and he sat down and quickly told me these six, before he had to leave. All of these, except the two that were told him by someone else, are memorats; both of these seem to be of lhe same tale-type: policeman accidentally takes a large dose of psychedelics, and acts in an unusua.1 manner. 'l'he motifs 8re the ways he takes the drug, thinking it to be sugar, or that it is water. The last story is fairly common, and is known in many versions. I might add that my observations of the life in the 10th street area are personal, and a different person in a different group, might have felt and thought differently, but, I think that they are a fair representation of the life-style and philosophy of your older ( 30 and up) 11hippy11 Note Listed are two terms with which a few people might not be familiar: Black Beav.ties amphetemines Shotgun - is for one to turn another person on to the same marijuana cigarette, i.e., one takes the smoke from the cigarette, without inhaling, into one's mouth, and blows said smoke directly into another's mouth, a manner of 11 sharing11 , Also, please note, it takes only a minute of 11 ac.td11 for one to 11 get o ff11 (become high) - such as one could place on the top of a pin-head, or, a drop in the liquid form. 1 Ah-ah-you're goin' to change names an' everythin', aren't you? in this, or what? -there's really no need, i don't think-and, o,k., i 1ll tell you what - there's a dude named Bucky, who's a real, first-class character, and, uh, if you know Bucky, you know how weird Bucky can be - so, uh, one day, Bucky was down at Chili Dog Cha.rlie I s, an I he saw THE MAN coming down across the streetand Bue ky was holding some BAD shit - so, ah, an I he had a bunch of it, on him - so, instead of trying to beat it out of the back door, he took his damn clothes off! and stood there naked as a damn jaybird in Chili Dog Charlie I s, and the Man came in and says, "Put your ,clothes on!", an' Bucky said, "there ain't no way, man-there's dope in them cloes, that you goin 1 tell me they b 1long to me, and i'm gain' say they don't!" - - -(laugliter) - an', yeah-like i wuz tellin 1 you - this dude and his whole family got, uh, up to Boston and they had cont:::,cts, an' they had, what they told me, wuz 'bout 20 grand of mescaline sulphate stashed away in bags, an they cut it with Hershey chocolate with sugar in it, and the pigs came in and busted the van, and they cut all the bags open, and they wet their fingers and stuck it in the go.odie - (laughter) - and the re gon 1 say, "What the hell is this?" -an the dude say, "hell, man, we're hung - and uh, enough for you to send us away from now on!" an' they said, 11 it 1 s mescaline sulfate" - cat said, 11 sur'e tastes sweet" and wet his finger and stuck it in again, and ah, 'bout a half a dozen cops wetting their fingers, and said "hey, man! try this! - stuff - look at j_t - it don' taste like no dope" (Much laughter) and all them cats wet they dam fingers, for about 15 or 20 minutesand jammed that shit 'n they mouths, cause it mustve been hooked on sugar or some thin 1 ! (raucous, hearty, guffaws) an 1 'bout an hour 2 later, they got 1 ern by the darn police station, an I they were boo kin 1 them, and puttin' em in the different places, and cops that were fuckin' around with the mescaline were trippin' their ass off, an' they apologized - ha, - an I said, 11Man, we I re sorry we had to do it to yaS - i didn't know!" (laughter) therez one saturday afternoon that my spacey brother, Bob ,-,nd me were, ah, down screwin' aroun down on ah-at, ah, - this one place and this big ale cop come along - he'z one hell of a nice dude - an', ah, lets just say - for, ah - lack of a better word, we'll call him "Big Joe" - you know? - and, ah - first time 1 saw him, 1 wuz standin' at the ba.r in this place, sittin' up on a stool - an I all o:f a sudden, this belt buckle, heh, urn, cta.ught me out of the corner of my eye, an' i said, 11good god/:11 and i look at the belt buckle, and i look up, and i look up, and look like the biggest dude i ever saw, wearin' a damn big-ass blue uniform, stuck a ale ham down in my face, instead of his hand, and said, 11hey, MY NAME'S JOE", (imitates gruff voice) - 11 youre new aroun' here, ain 1cha? 11 (laughter) and i said, 11what? - no, i jus' ain't never seen ya11 , an I he says, "Well, i 1m the localpig, - you know? 11 and he said, 11uh, just tho 1t i'd like to git t 1know everbody11 - so he drifted on - great, big, smiley kind 'a cat - so, this one partic'ular afternoon, my spacey brother and me, ah, on this one particular place where they's two bars right close together, ah - Bob wuz holdin 1 3 lids of weed in his boot - an' ah, i had some jeans, on, an' a little envelope with fifty blacks in it (laughter) and i riad a tight fi ttin 1 outside tee-shirt on, an' when i pulled it down, man, you could see the outline of th' envelope, and, uh, Bob an' i had dates, ah, it wuz ah - it wuz Mary and Sue - we're just truckin 1 out to a place on Peachtree used to love to go - (Lion's Brow) - and of course the place's 3 gone, now - but, uh, justs we started to walk out the door, over came old Big Joe, with his damn three-wheeler, and :we said, "hey, Joe, howre ya doin'?" and he said, "o.k. 11 - Bob looked at me, and he said, "Now, Gring,if you gonna, you know, rap here with, uh, Joe for a minute, 11 (laughter) 11let me, ah, truck on down , .. the chicks to the nex I place an' we'll be there soon as you get thru" - i says 11 o.k. 11 , and soon as old Spl'l.cey Bobwalks aroun' the damn corner, John looked at that damn envelope with them blacks in it, and., grinnin' like hell, says 11 i wonder, what the hell he was so paranoid about!?" (laughter) this blew my fuckin' mind! ha-ha-he sorta wrecked us - no, no, that, Bob's a character - used to have more damn dope when there wuzn 1t any to be had - wh-but, ah, Bucky's like a brother to the both of us, and one evenin' i wuz sittin' at the Stein Club, an' ahhere 1 s-here 1s Bucky, truckin' in from outside, like about five minutes 'til 2 - just had time for a quick beer, an I he pulled it out an 1 Bucky says, "Brother, can you give 1TB a lift home?" an I evry time Bucky says "Brother", you know to look for the shit that goes with the song, 'cause you 'bout to git some, an i said, "well, sure, man, i 111 take you on home" - so we jumped out in my bug, and we were truckin' up 12th St., and all of a damn sudden, these damn blinker lites comeon - flashers - tsst-oom-tsst-oom, and Bucky says, "Stop the car, there's the Man" - well, i had enuf dope in that son-o-bitch to 'bout put me away from now on - i had some coke, some opium -'bout 3 lids o 1weed -a couple hits of s'l_l)eed - an' some downs, 1n some mescaline- - an' some - bout 1/2 dozen hi ts o I acid - it wuz my personal stash j_ 1 d forgot to put away - and i had a damn bottle of wine in the damn car a.nd i pulled up in the middle of the damn street, 'cuz you can't upll of!l;'there, and ain1t but 3 lanes, you know - 1cuz it's 4 one way-, an', uh, i stopped there, and Bucky got out and he'd just gotten out of the damn mental health thing - down in, ah, Milledgeville, and, ah, he went back and hassled the cop and says, //Man, why are you buggin 1 me? 11 11J<;ver 1 time i see you, you're on my ass! 11 , and the cop said, "Bucky, i Im just try in' to be nice - you know? 11 11 You got put away, and it couldn't be no fun; hell, i hope you keep your nose clean" Ducky says 11 i wish to hell you cats I d get off my damn back, 1cuz evr'y time i see you, it's some new kinda shit gain' on! 11 Man, he vmz readin' this cat the riot act like you would not damn believe! and, uh, i didn 1 - know what the hell wha.t wuz goin 1 on - Bucky told me later 1bout this shit - i saw Bucky back there with his har1ds stuck in his damn back pockets, an 1 he look like he wuz wig-waggin' his damn head, an' uh, i says, 11 Man, i gotta get this d2mn dope outta this damn car! if thnt pig decides to shake us down, i lmve HAD it! - you know? so i went around - popped to - the driver I s seat (side) of my car, and i went around to the other wide of my car and, ah, an' i got the bottle of wine in my left hand, and 8 bag of dope from under the seat, for my right hand, and, just as i came - backed my ass out of the shotgun side of the VW, i flipped all the damn dope that wuz in one sack over tn the damn bushes, an swung around, so the man would pay attention to what i wuz dotn' with this damn bottle tn my hand, and run up to him, and, uh, shook the bottle tn his face and says, 11 Man, do you got a bottle opener? 11cat says, 11 Naw, i ain I t got no bottle-opener for opening no damn wine - no cork screw! 11 so he just screwed up - dig, there 1 s a dude named Ray Spires, who, uh, used to reiI-l-1-y be a needle freak, an Ray wuz a motor cycle rider - man, he used to run some nice old races - and., uh, theys one time, uh, this - we went over to a 5 frien 1s house to - do a little dealing, and uh, i saw ray's jacket and i said, "where's R!i!,y? over here? 11 - she said, 11yeah, he's in the bathroom" - i said 11what 1s the hell is he doin 1 ? 11 and she said, 11 well, uh, he's in bad shape - he came over here s. little while ago, and i had to go over to Plaza drugs to, uh, get some epsom salts for him11 - i said, 11what the hell's the matter - is he constipated? 11 she said, 11Naw, man, he - he got no dope to run, so whenever he run out of dope, he sits on the damn commode and'funs Epsom Salts water to get a rush outta that shittin' - he just shits hisself to death!" (laughter) One Ss turday evenin', uh, one sa turday afternoon - we a.rap by this place and i ran into this chick, and she, uh, and i got on an invitation to each other', to half-way spend a week-end together, and i went into this pls.ce sort of halfway late at night to uh, pick her up, and, usually, what they do, is they run ever 1body out, except for the dudes that are waitin' on the chicks, and i 1m sittin 1 there tj,n 1 the door's locked, and, uh, there's these 3 strange characters standin' up against the wall, and naybe a half-dozen sittin' aroun' waitin' on the chicks, an' here's these 3 dudes, an they wuz in cop uniform, an ah, 2 black ones- one white one - and, ah, the conversation sort of halfway died down - all of a sudden, the dude who's countin I the money, says 11 da.mn-i smell marl jua.na!"' and the Bartender who wuz down to the end of the damn bar, said, 11 it 1 s me, mother-fucker! 11 - 11 I'm rollin' em! 11 and he said, 11 well, don' be one way! 11 and the cops looked at 'em and said, uh- 11don' t be one way' man, i mean, you know yourself, i mean, pass one of them damn things this way! 11 and i looked over and i said, 11 Man, that's somep'n I I/ i never saw done/ - i just wondered wm t j_ t would be like - to do - and i got one of them j0,ints and shot-gunned all 3 cops! heh-heh-heh 6 yea,h-this dude who, uh, got busted for the mescaline, wuz lnto acid, too, and, uh, this one you hear a lot of variations of this story, and the one thaiL i he0.rd wuz that the cop busted the van, an' uh-he wuz into the a.amn, an he wuz lookin I for his dope ever' where he could try to flnd it, and the cat said, 11 man, thereain I t no dope in this thing"- said, 11 ain 1t you got no grass?" "N. o, man, we don't have any grass" and 111 don't find any pills in this damn van11 - says 11hell, i know you people are carryin 1 dope!" and the cat says, 11 No, man, i mean, jist-jist look around11and the cat had - ah - ah - a listerine bottle fulla acid - the llquid shlt, and, uh - the dude says - 11 \'lell, hell, you know - what're you doin 1 carryin' thls clear stuff around in a listerine bottle?" and he said - 11well, it's just water, just in case i fJ8,Ve to hitch hike, and - you know - i get to thirsty, or some thin 1 , i can have somepin wet my damn tonguf' ! 11 and, the cop says, "well, uh, let me see it, "and he opened the damn thing up and stuck his finger in it, and put it up to his lips, and said, 11man, it don't taste like anythingl1 ,- so the cop tilted back his head and took a little swig of the liquid acid and uh, he said, 11Man, you know, i 1m just sorry that, uh, i had to disturb you people" "That, sure as hell,you had some dope" - says, 11no, ma,n, we ain't got nothin'", and he put his little water - uh - liquid - type - uh water-type, uh, acid in his damn pocket with the top on the listerine bottle, and uh, i,, couple miles down the road, the dude who wuz drivln' the van, come on the cop car, and the cop had sorta pulled over, not too graciously, up against a tree, and sorta took tlie tree of its trunk, 1n bent it into the front end of the car, and it wuz sorta scraggly, and uh, the cop had his little blue lite up on, lookin' at that damn thing, sittin' up on the hood - his head goin' round, goin 1 11 d-a-a-j>, d-a-a-a-, glub, glub, glub .. (roars with laughter!) A PDF transcript exists for this recording. Please contact an archivist for access. Professor John Burrison founded the Atlanta Folklore Archive Project in 1967 at Georgia State University. He trained undergraduates and graduate students enrolled in his folklore curriculum to conduct oral history interviews. Students interviewed men, women, and children of various demographics in Georgia and across the southeast on crafts, storytelling, music, religion, rural life, and traditions. As archivists, we acknowledge our role as stewards of information, which places us inaposition to choose how individuals and organizations are represented and described in our archives. We are not neutral, andbias isreflected in our descriptions, whichmay not convey the racist or offensive aspects of collection materialsaccurately.Archivists make mistakes and might use poor judgment.We often re-use language used by the former owners and creators, which provides context but also includes bias and prejudices of the time it was created.Additionally,our work to use reparative languagewhereLibrary of Congress subject termsareinaccurate and obsolete isongoing. Kenan Research Center welcomes feedback and questions regarding our archival descriptions. If you encounter harmful, offensive, or insensitive terminology or description please let us know by emailingreference@atlantahistorycenter.com. Your comments are essential to our work to create inclusive and thoughtful description.