Tuesday, January 11, 1972
LOCATION: Bethlehem, South Dakota
10:30 AM
Got to sleep last night at 1:30 in the stereo cabin. The three of us -- Matt, Me, and Phil (social sciences investigator or something) -- stayed there till 1:00, listening to the stereo and reading. I found out a button is missing on my new jacket.
12:00 AM
We had lunch at 1:00, and I went to the stereo cabin to draw an abstract painting from one of Fr. Gilbert's books. It took me most of the day to finish. I helped Brad put up wood strips on the ceiling of the chapel in the retreat house. Afterwards, I returned to the Stereo Cabin to finish my drawing.
Dinner was at 6:30 -- we had Chow Mein, rice, thingamajigs, whatjamacallits, and banana bread. I checked the Imperial for anti-freeze at the suggestion of Fr. Gilbert -- the car started fine, and registered plenty of anti-freeze.
I called mom and dad to tell them to send the $60.00, and they complied with Gilbert's thinking about building a geodesic dome to plant vegetables in. Tomorrow, M & I have to go to Rapid for our glasses -- we asked Fr. for $30 for me, and $8 for Matt, telling him we'd pay him back as soon as M's check ($40) and my bank account ($60) comes in.
It started snowing again, giving the land a fresh look and guaranteeing snow shoveling jobs tomorrow.
[Inserted here is a letter by Matt to his girlfriend, but he never mailed it so Grady grabbed the letter and put it in this book]
*judy
Its a week since I left newport. in that time I have seen more things than ever before I have seen. It's supported my idea that newport was a severely limited and limiting place. I have visited states, driven hiways, been a temporary drifter, and subjected myself to the theoretical forces of the Gestapo. And I am not finished yet. I find myself in a commune in the unlikely and remote black hills of south dakota. It's run by a catholic father, and the people and philosophy are both as beautiful as the forest surrounding. The big town, Rapid City, is perhaps a normal midwestern town, but with my conditioning I can't help but describe it as strange... strange. the plan of me and my colleague, Grady Lyda, is to live here and work in Rapid City 'till we have enough filthy green to travel to New York City, there to establish ourselves, get interesting work or develop a business. I have with me - myself, which includes all clothes, the stereo, and personal effects. the car is a portable sanitarium. anyway, this is asking you if you would like to visit me in New York this summer (after you've finished school). I will feed you bagels & cheese every morning, take you to see the sights, and provide snappy repartee. See what it's really like to live outside sunny Calif. let life drive you crazy. take it from someone who's seen both sides of the sanity fence. It's better. but that depends on definition of 'better' . or maybe 'bet' . or 'ter' . (give up) think about it and write me. that address again -- Bethlehem, South Dakota 57708 (THEIR OWN ZIPCODE, YET.)
I think, at this point, I can definitely and unequivicably make the compulsively profound statement - - - - I miss you.
Matt Gold
P.S. don't worry about money. I'll pay 4 you in the City.
LOCATION: Bethlehem, South Dakota
10:30 AM
Got to sleep last night at 1:30 in the stereo cabin. The three of us -- Matt, Me, and Phil (social sciences investigator or something) -- stayed there till 1:00, listening to the stereo and reading. I found out a button is missing on my new jacket.
12:00 AM
We had lunch at 1:00, and I went to the stereo cabin to draw an abstract painting from one of Fr. Gilbert's books. It took me most of the day to finish. I helped Brad put up wood strips on the ceiling of the chapel in the retreat house. Afterwards, I returned to the Stereo Cabin to finish my drawing.
Dinner was at 6:30 -- we had Chow Mein, rice, thingamajigs, whatjamacallits, and banana bread. I checked the Imperial for anti-freeze at the suggestion of Fr. Gilbert -- the car started fine, and registered plenty of anti-freeze.
I called mom and dad to tell them to send the $60.00, and they complied with Gilbert's thinking about building a geodesic dome to plant vegetables in. Tomorrow, M & I have to go to Rapid for our glasses -- we asked Fr. for $30 for me, and $8 for Matt, telling him we'd pay him back as soon as M's check ($40) and my bank account ($60) comes in.
It started snowing again, giving the land a fresh look and guaranteeing snow shoveling jobs tomorrow.
[Inserted here is a letter by Matt to his girlfriend, but he never mailed it so Grady grabbed the letter and put it in this book]
*judy
if you're travelling to the North Country fair
where the wind is heavy on the borderline
remember me to one who lives there...
Leon Russell
Its a week since I left newport. in that time I have seen more things than ever before I have seen. It's supported my idea that newport was a severely limited and limiting place. I have visited states, driven hiways, been a temporary drifter, and subjected myself to the theoretical forces of the Gestapo. And I am not finished yet. I find myself in a commune in the unlikely and remote black hills of south dakota. It's run by a catholic father, and the people and philosophy are both as beautiful as the forest surrounding. The big town, Rapid City, is perhaps a normal midwestern town, but with my conditioning I can't help but describe it as strange... strange. the plan of me and my colleague, Grady Lyda, is to live here and work in Rapid City 'till we have enough filthy green to travel to New York City, there to establish ourselves, get interesting work or develop a business. I have with me - myself, which includes all clothes, the stereo, and personal effects. the car is a portable sanitarium. anyway, this is asking you if you would like to visit me in New York this summer (after you've finished school). I will feed you bagels & cheese every morning, take you to see the sights, and provide snappy repartee. See what it's really like to live outside sunny Calif. let life drive you crazy. take it from someone who's seen both sides of the sanity fence. It's better. but that depends on definition of 'better' . or maybe 'bet' . or 'ter' . (give up) think about it and write me. that address again -- Bethlehem, South Dakota 57708 (THEIR OWN ZIPCODE, YET.)
I think, at this point, I can definitely and unequivicably make the compulsively profound statement - - - - I miss you.
Matt Gold
P.S. don't worry about money. I'll pay 4 you in the City.
see for me if her hair's hanging long --
that's the way I remember her best. -- L. Russell
that's the way I remember her best. -- L. Russell
[Below are the Front & Back photos of this letter. Matt was a clever artist: if you
click on this image & look carefully, you can see a giant Question Mark behind his text.]
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