When I was 8 years old in 1973, I knew a teen-aged girl who desperately wanted to be considered a Hippie. She was a little young for it, and she really didn’t have any of the political or moral underpinnings to give her the credibility. Basically she was just a lazy, rebellious girl who wanted to shock people.
One day she brought home a scruffy guy who she called Frank. I have no idea where she met this guy, but he really stood out in our hyper-conservative WASPish Connecticut neighborhood. He was way too swarthy to not be considered suspicious in that day and age. She loved that about him. She told everyone he was an American Indian. How exotic. I had an instant 8 year old’s crush on him. I began to play cowboys and Indians, only I’d let the Indians win for a change.
Much later we found out that he was actually a Puerto Rican named Francisco. I have no idea why she considered this to be too much shock value even for her well-planned rebellion, and why converting him to American Indianism was somehow more acceptable, but there you have it. We also discovered even later that he was wanted by the FBI for God knows what. Rumor has it that it was drug related.
In keeping with his American Indian image (and in retrospect, his need to hide), they decided to make a teepee and squat on some abandoned land in rural Vermont. Somehow they got yards and yards of heavy duty canvas, a heavy duty sewing machine, and lodge poles, and they sewed the thing themselves. To their credit, it really came out well. It was impressive. It was huge. It was a good 20 feet tall. It showed a great deal of creativity and initiative. If she had abandoned her rebellion, she could have really made something of herself.
I have no idea how they got the canvas up there. It must have weighed a ton, but they soon set up a little home place, using a nearby mountain stream as a source of refrigeration, and they dug an outhouse. I have no recollection of how they bathed or cooked. They did like to skinny dip in a nearby pond. And when Frank began to leave her alone for weeks at a time to fend for herself, she hitchhiked into town and got a job as a waitress.
I can’t remember how long this strange little romance lasted. I know she was out there for at least one summer and one winter, but the details are a little foggy for me. All I know is that eventually she came back home. She even did a presentation at my elementary school about teepees and it was a big hit.
Later in life she joined the Air Force, which was the perfect place for her. That enforced discipline and tell-me-what-I-must-do culture was just what she needed. If anyone brought up her teepee days, she’d become infuriated. She was ashamed of that part of her life. That made me kind of sad. Even if it was ill-advised and not in keeping with her current image, it was interesting, and I’m sure she learned a lot from it, and it helped make her who she became later in life.
As time went by she married, had a family, and retired from the Air Force after 21 years. Then, sadly, she died of cancer at the age of 54. I have no idea what became of Frank. If he’s still alive he’d be in his 60’s now. I’m willing to bet he isn’t living in a teepee.
[Image credit: ahkitipi.com]
The View from a Drawbridge 
I want to live in a teepee…
Another unforgettable character that touched your life. Her disdain for her past life, might have evaporated if she had read your post. So often we meet or are affected by the presence of others in our lives that have impact on our views, morals and actions. Some just pass through, others linger, but we are enriched by their being there, and we may not realize it for years. I only hope that I may have touched someone’s life along my way. You have certainly touched mine.
Nah, she was pretty rigid about it. But you’ve definitely touched my life, my friend, and I suspect many others would say the same.