Jack Wilson, Frederick Street (HOME PAGE)

Remembrances
    •  Jill Stabenau
    •  Carmen Silva
    •  Jan Houbolt
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    •  Suzanne Ecker
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    •  December 17, 2011
    •  Miscellaneous

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Remembering Jack Wilson

Carmen Silva

Also see December 17, 2011 stories.

This is an early, early Jack and Lee [Waterman] memory. This was before I got together with Jack, and was still with Lee. Jack had just moved into HOPAF [the House of Peace and Freedom]. It was Christmas time (1968) and an old house up the block from us caught fire. There were flames leaping out of the upstairs’ window. When we got there, Jack and Lee jumped up on the porch roof and pulled two small children from the upstairs room. I remember thinking that the porch roof was going to cave in. There were firemen standing on the sidewalk, watching this. After Jack and Lee jumped down, they aimed their hoses at the flames. All very surreal — we were most likely stoned at the time. We all left quietly.

Some other things about Jack: He had two older brothers. They were quite a bit older than Jack and his sister Jill. One of them was killed in a freak accident on Guam when he was in the military (Army, I think). It was said that a barbell slipped and caved in his face while he was lifting weights. He was 22 years old at the time, and Jack was probably about 12. This was the final straw that broke up his parents’ already shaky marriage, I think. The other brother is Blaine, a VW mechanic in Florida.

Jack’s parents were both interesting people. His mother thought I was Mexican because I “talked funny” — this was when I still had an English accent. His father had made some kind of early radio invention, and worked for the government (very vague). His mother, Ella Wilson aka “Jackie” after Jackie Robinson, the slugger, was reputed to have given someone a black eye once in her youth. Jack was named “Jack E(dward)” for her. She had some native American blood, but I don’t know which tribe. She had a brother “Uncle Billie” who was rich. This rich uncle would have them over for Christmas sometimes, and make a soup broth in which he boiled a chicken and then threw away the meat and only used the broth. This was the height of decadence.

   

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