Monday, February 04, 2008

"There's alot of bobbing and weaving ..."

We arranged for the kid to talk to the cops. The cops picked up the suspect in Luna's murder, then they let him go. Even though the guy live across the bay in San Franciso, the information that the suspect was released and free quickly got back to the East Bay.

I called the detective from Henry and Clover's pad. The cop explained that "There was a lot of bobbing and weaving in a murder investigation."

A couple of days later the story broke in the newspaper that they had arrest the Indian guy for Luna's murder. In the news story the police said that this crime had really upset the community and that they, the police, got help from a section of the community that usually wasn't co-operative.

A few days later there was a memorial for the our slain friend with Tim Leary. Luna's girl friends performed an interpertive dance to honor her. I didn't go ... I don't know why, I just couldn't.

When you google Luna's name what you learn is that her brain was placed in a frozen cryogenic state. I think that like all thing on the Internet, you learn nothing about the person nor what is true or spiritual about their lives.

There was sometime about watching some of the kids and people grow up in Berkeley through the seventies. Some like Luna, David D., Kathy D., Groovie, SuperJoel and many others didn't make it. I found out be chance others like; Spacely, Marcy, Jimmy Butler, Vanessa,and Clover did make it. Annelise, I don't know but I sense Star made and is happy somewhere... I hope so.

Star marbling.



At 10:28 AM, Blogger Unknown said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

At 10:30 AM, Blogger Halie Symmons said...

Thank you so much for posting these journal entries. Thanks to you, when I googled Luna's name I found something more insightful than the articles about cryogenic freezing, like you pointed out. It doesn't seem to matter to many people, but it means the world to me. I never knew her or her dad, but through his writing he touched me about as deeply as any friend ever did, and when I read about her death I mourned it in my own small way, infinitesimal compared to the mourning of those that knew her, but as I read his book I also came to love her just a little bit. Enough to weep like a baby when I read about her death.


Post a Comment

<< Home