My first day at the University of Wisconsin, I smoked a joint and walked around the block in my pajamas. I befriended Dave and Bill, who supplied my roommate Liz and I with grass and occasional drugs. In return, we offered them snacks from vending machines and meals from the cafeteria. We rocked out on Ronnie’s porch and partied hard on a large farm where Dave sent a cow into a trance with the melodic sounds of his harmonica.

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me

 “Have you ever hitched before?” Liz asked after revealing her dream. “I want to go higher, higher.” That’s all I remember. Somehow, that dream inspired our first trip to Chicago. Thumbs up. We rode in the cab of a Mack truck that was plastered with pornographic book covers. The red-faced driver insisted that we dine with him at his favorite truck stop. We weren’t hungry, but we accompanied him. The other drivers leered at us. Back on the road, he slowed down. I opened the door and we jumped out.

‘Pipe a song about a Lamb!’
So I piped with merry cheer.
‘Piper, pipe that song again.’
So I piped: he wept to hear

The next time we hitched with a cool young guy and were stopped by a state trooper. The trooper forced us to exit the car 20 miles from our destination, and threatened to arrest us if we hitchhiked again. At twilight, with no money nor identification, we began to walk. The same driver pulled up and motioned us to get in the car. 

“No way,” I shook my head. He rolled down the window, “Don’t worry,” he said pointing to the wide-brimmed hat in the back seat, “My father is the sheriff–the trooper’s boss.” He drove us directly to the dorms at Northwestern University.  

‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
Sing thy songs of happy cheer!’
So I sung the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear

We were not radicals, but we protested the war. We were curious and stood behind thousands of protesters. Suddenly, everyone turned around and we were in the front lines. I witnessed a Black man run into the street and throw something that blasted and created a cloud of dust. The crowd dispersed.

In May, we marched to the Capital to protest the escalation of bombing in North Vietnam, and were tear-gassed by police. Tears streamed down my face and my eyes burned. I tried to seek refuge in a small store.

‘Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book, that all may read.’
So he vanished from my sight;
And I plucked a hollow reed,

That semester we lived in the presence of the National Guard–both inside and outside the dorm. The dorm counselor, a Black militant with Angela Davis hair, held meetings in her room. My friend Gloria freaked out on MDA. The only thing that held me together was a class on William Blake. 

And I made a rural pen,
And I stain’d the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.