30 Years in a Housetruck

Page Twenty Five: Roomies

In a previous page, I mention that there were others living in the house, so maybe some introductions are in order.

I've already mentioned Rosalie and Jonah. They lived in the cabin up the hill, a rustic collection of scrap wood and windows set on the side of the hill by the upper garden. The cabin had a thin electric wire so it had lights, but there was no running water, and no creature comforts like insulation or interior siding.

Rosalie was a transplant from Rochester, New York, who had been raised in an upper middle class family and had received some higher education. She had lived at the Schoolhouse for a couple of years, being in her "middle twenties" and as such, was the default "House Mother". I took to affectionately calling her "Ma". I don't know who Jonah's father was, but I assume that she does.

One of the other two women in the household was Seretta, a US citizen born of South American parents. She was just 20 or 21 years of age, and generally had a sunny, if clueless disposition. Her room in the house was next to the hallway, off the kitchen, and was the least appealing space available (other than the narrow storage room), being dark and with only a small window.

Finally, we had Laura. Laura's room was on the northwest side of the house, off the living room. It had a large window on the west wall and a full-lite patio door on the north. The room was painted a cheery yellow color, and Laura had decorated the windows with faux stained-glass paints, in a pattern of vines and flowers.

While doing some research on the internet, I came up with an old photo of The Schoolhouse from 1911 showing the interior:

This image shows the corner of the building that became Laura's bedroom. The covered window behind the teacher was that which was painted with vines, and the window to the right had been replaced with the glass door. Everyone looks so severe! Cheer up folks! In another 64 years, your grandkids will be having a huge party right where you are sitting!

Laura, it turned out, was a 16 year-old runaway who had been living at the house for a couple of months with the knowledge of her mother. These days, kids of this sort are known as "throwaways", I suppose. Laura was very dedicated to the study of Krishna, and practiced non-violence in all things. This led to some difficult times when we put up flypaper in the kitchen, and she would have a mini-freakout if you asked her to get into a car that had seats upholstered in what might be leather. I assured her at the seats in my Rambler were made of genuine Naugahide, and that the Naugas had been humanely killed before being stripped of their skins. I stuck Laura with the nickname of "Karma Kid". We didn't get along all that well, but it was a benign truce between us

More than once, we had to drive into town to the Skipworth Juvenile Detention Facility to spring her after she got picked up in town for underage curfew infraction or some such. The officers on duty had a very hard time accepting that a carload of hairy hippies were actually her "guardians", and we would always have to wait until they would call her mother to confirm this before releasing her to us. Of course, the first thing we would do after picking her up is light up some joints on the way to the grocery to by the evening's supply of wine and beer.

Of the two other men in the house, one was Jay, who resided in the cabin that used to be the stable when the Schoolhouse was an actual learning facility. This cabin was also pretty rustic, with a sleeping loft built into the former hayloft over the barn bays. There were electric lights and a small, smoky, airtight wood stove.

Jay was also a transplant from the East Coast, and had traveled extensively, including Central and South America, and Hawaii. He was perhaps the oldest of us, being just over thirty. He was also the most musical, and frequently would sit in the open doors of his barn/cabin picking out tunes on his banjo on warm summer nights. He was fairly intellectual, and seemed to have a good education.

Finally (but not least), there was Paul, yet another New Yorker recently moved to Oregon. I think the Schoolhouse was his first place to stay after moving into the state. Paul was 29, sported a huge bushy beard, and was quickly balding. He had been an office worker in NY, working for a large insurance firm, and destined to slave away in a cubicle somewhere until he got the bug to travel. His room was the largest in the house, on the southeast corner, and it had it's own wood stove.

Paul and I became very fast friends, and over the years both traveled and worked together, as will be revealed in future episodes. After eventually moving out of the Schoolhouse, he bought a converted bus, a 1946 Dodge, which I put a lot of work into over the next few years, which again, is a subject for later. Over the last 33 years, Paul and I have remained friends. We don't cross paths all that often anymore, and the last time I saw him was just before I moved (2006). I'm sure we'll be seeing each other in the near future. Oh, and he is crazy about turtles.