Author: Don McNeill

  • Huncke the Junkie: Godfather to Naked Lunch

    1967 Village Voice article by Don McNeill about the writer and New York Times denizen Huncke the Junkie

    My phone rang on a hot morning in July a year ago and it as Allen Ginsberg. “Do you know Herbert Huncke?” Ginsberg asked. “Have you ever met Huncke?” I said that I hadn’t. “He’s the oldest living junkie in New York,” Ginsberg said, “and an old sidekick of Burroughs and Kerouac. He turned Burroughs […]

  • The Grand Central Riot: Yippies Meet the Man

    1968 Village Voice article by Don McNeill about a clash between the police and yippes in Grand Central

    Inside A Yip-In All the brass was watching. Chief Inspector Sanford Garelik, shielded by a cluster of Tactical Patrol Force heavies, leaned against the wall in the 42nd Street entrance to Grand Central Station, intently watching the churning sea of demonstrators. Sid Davidoff and Barry Gottehrer, Lindsay’s roving sensory apparatus, roamed around the terminal for […]

  • Merging of Messages, Proliferation of Protest

    Saturday in New York: Merging of Messages, Proliferation of Protest May 2, 1968 I remember a year ago, when the march began in the Sheep Meadow, and the people walked through the midtown streets until they came to the plaza of the United Nations to hear the man they now mourn repeat as a litany, […]

  • Autumn in the Haight: Where Has Love Gone?

    Autumn in the Haight: Where Has Love Gone? November 30, 1967 San Francisco — The season changed, and the moon thrusts of the Autumn Equinox preoc­cupied the many people in Haight-Ashbury who chart by planetary movement. Others par­ticipated in the Equinox celebra­tion, a pleasant event which has become a tradition here in the past few […]

  • Tompkins Square: The Youthquake and the Shook-Up Park

    The Youthquake and the Shook-up Park June 8, 1967 by Don McNeill The Ukrainians had had enough. Hare Krishna may be a song of love for the Lord Krishna, but it’s a little esoteric for a Ukrainian grandmother who wants to sit in peace and talk about the old country. A daffodil is an empty […]

  • Be-In, be-in, Being

    March 30, 1967 As the dawn sun gleamed off a backdrop of molded metal sky-scrapers on Easter Sunday, a medieval pageant began in the middle of Manhattan. Laden with daffodils, ecstatic in vibrant costumes and painted faces, troupes of hippies gathered on a hill overlooking Central Park’s Sheep Meadow to Be-In. By sunset, 10,000 celebrants […]