Linda Hughes:  

In the middle of first grade, some of us at Hacienda Elementary were transferred to brand-new Macy School, about 3 blocks from our house (sister = Mindy). Great school, great teachers, great kids. There weren't enough middle-schoolers to fill the next new neighborhood school, Starbuck, so the entire 6th grade at Macy was sent over there, leaving us 5th graders as top-dogs 2 years in a row. The teachers were told to have each class pick a rep for "Student Council", which none of us knew about. I got to go from Mrs. Huey's, and the other class reps elected me as Macy's 1st Student Body Pres. My one and only duty was to lead an assembly in the Pledge of Allegiance. No more politics for me! There were lots more students at Starbuck and LHHS, and I pretty much shrank into the background. Went to San Diego State, and away from parents gave me all the freedom I needed. The first year I smoked pot, I made the Dean's List... Met my love, Dave, in one of those "encounter-group"-type classes, where everyone gets an "A" and you sit around a circle talking of feelings, etc.. He graduated, asked me to go to Europe w/him. Sold everything, incl. my fastback Mustang, and convinced the Dean to expedite my tuition refund so I got it before we left. No idea what we were about to embark on ("Oh. Money is very different here..." "Why did I bring all these stupid clothes and shoes?!" etc.) . We went thru Eurrail Passes that we forged another month on, then hitch-hiked all over and also into North Africa. We spent 6 months there, all together, and spent a total of $2200.00 for both of us. Had to hitch-hike back to CA from New York City. 30 years later (year 2000), we met for lunch hour at the County Admin. Ctr. and got married, just the civil officiant and us. We both cried. Still together, no children. Which is fine, tho I love children, b/c we were deeply involved in the Marijuana Trade for a long time. Smuggling tales, rental homes under false names ("Oops ~ what name do they know us as? Allen? Almond?...") Hair-raising police encounters, the works. When cocaine came on the scene, the whole nature of the business changed for the worst. Guns, rip-offs, unsavory types around. We decided to move to the county, grow marijuana ourselves under lights, and not have to deal with the other stuff. The first two years were miserable failures. Lights were nothing like those today; the plantlings were leggy, attenuated, not good quality. The next year, Dave's beloved Grandmother died, and threw the operation into a tailspin. We went to work ~ Dave a substitute H.S. teacher, me a topless, underwater mermaid. The next year, we hit it BIG. We had seed stock to die for, as the Vietnam war returness brought back pot from Thailand, Afghanistan, The Netherlands, etc., and we had Mexican varieties, Columbian, Hawaiians, Panamanian, etc. We had two outdoor huts full-to-the-brims with incredibly beautiful and heavy plants. I have pix to prove it. Dave and I were battling, so I moved an hour away and began an operation of my own. We each had a successful harvest, but the next year, Dave got sloppy about always keeping visqueen overhead, and the fly-over ASTREA's spotted his crop. Busted. But mine was still going strong; we determined to be very careful about the telephoning, but after while, we forgot, got careless, and one morning, I looked out my L/R window to see law-enforcement vehicles from 5 agencies driving up to my place. "Nice crop", one cop said. "I know," I said weeping. "What's with the kid's room?" "Oh, that's just me." We ...Expand for more