Ariana Smart Truman
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I spent most of time at Struggle staying with Sara and Lisa. I have so many vivd memories of that time and place:
- The eagerly anticipated drive up, during which Lisa and I would shout with joy "Monkey flowers!" when we saw a certain yellow blossom on the hillside....
- And then being there, running in a pack of children, Tommy and Oak and Cisco, and other visitors like myself....
- Swinging on that swing on a steep hillside that took you out way over the bushes, into the trees....
- Going into the sweat lodge (wasn't there a sweat lodge?) then running out naked into the cold night....
- Selling lemonade with Lisa out of the turn-in to Struggle - I remember sweet bearded motorcyclists, maybe on their way to The Land, buying not just our lemonade but also the sandwiches Sara had made for us...
- Lying in bed with Sara and Lisa on the screened-in back porch, while Sara read to us, looking at the stars...
- My fondest memories by far are of the huge stone bath tub at Joan's. The water was always hot hot hot, and it took so long to fill up, and we felt like we just couldn't wait! Then we used to swim across the tub, back and forth, doggy paddling. As Zem-Zem said on her page, I was astonished when I went back for a reunion in the 80's, and saw how small it was.
Now that I am raising a child (my daughter George was born in November 2007) as a single parent in Brooklyn I long for that community. I can't say "kind of community" because it was such a particular time and place and collection of people, it wasn't some kind of replicable "kind". But I haven't naturally stumbled across anything even close to it, and I had assumed it would be natural and easy and automatic for my child to be raised with at least that kind of communal spirit, if not actually in a place like that. I am happy in my life, of course - otherwise I would change it! - but I am surprised that my friends don't gravitate to that kind of sense of community when it comes to child-rearing.
But then when I look at all these pictures and stories collected here I understand it was an unusual and special child hood I had. Most people were not so lucky.
Ariana Smart Truman
I spent a lot of time at Struggle Mountain, between probably 1974-80. My mom is Margy Sloan (now Margaret) and my step-dad is Larry Casalino (though we did not live together as a family til 1981).I spent most of time at Struggle staying with Sara and Lisa. I have so many vivd memories of that time and place:
- The eagerly anticipated drive up, during which Lisa and I would shout with joy "Monkey flowers!" when we saw a certain yellow blossom on the hillside....
- And then being there, running in a pack of children, Tommy and Oak and Cisco, and other visitors like myself....
- Swinging on that swing on a steep hillside that took you out way over the bushes, into the trees....
- Going into the sweat lodge (wasn't there a sweat lodge?) then running out naked into the cold night....
- Selling lemonade with Lisa out of the turn-in to Struggle - I remember sweet bearded motorcyclists, maybe on their way to The Land, buying not just our lemonade but also the sandwiches Sara had made for us...
- Lying in bed with Sara and Lisa on the screened-in back porch, while Sara read to us, looking at the stars...
- My fondest memories by far are of the huge stone bath tub at Joan's. The water was always hot hot hot, and it took so long to fill up, and we felt like we just couldn't wait! Then we used to swim across the tub, back and forth, doggy paddling. As Zem-Zem said on her page, I was astonished when I went back for a reunion in the 80's, and saw how small it was.
Now that I am raising a child (my daughter George was born in November 2007) as a single parent in Brooklyn I long for that community. I can't say "kind of community" because it was such a particular time and place and collection of people, it wasn't some kind of replicable "kind". But I haven't naturally stumbled across anything even close to it, and I had assumed it would be natural and easy and automatic for my child to be raised with at least that kind of communal spirit, if not actually in a place like that. I am happy in my life, of course - otherwise I would change it! - but I am surprised that my friends don't gravitate to that kind of sense of community when it comes to child-rearing.
But then when I look at all these pictures and stories collected here I understand it was an unusual and special child hood I had. Most people were not so lucky.