By 1973, Haight-Ashbury had faded from memory and the anti-war Berkeley radicalism had lost its sting. Psychedelics gave way to hard drugs and, with that, came street crime.
Friends chose to stay and lived in fear; I chose to move to where I was sure people were different. I bought my first house in Palouse in 1974 and have owned a home ever since.
Unlike so many urban refugees, the last thing I wanted was to recreate even a shred of what I left behind. Different latitudes, different attitudes.