Great Speckled Bird v. 4 no. 45 (November 8, 1971) available as a pdf from Georgia State University Library here.
2 thoughts on “Duane Allman obituary Issue of The Great Speckled Bird”
I was a runaway 16 year old, living on the strip, for a year and a half from 1969-1971. I went by the nickname “Truth”although my life was a lie of fake identity.
I remember selling the Bird and Hip Magazine on the street. I slept behind the garbage dumpster located on 10th street, behind that building that was partially torn down, less than a block from the strip. Along with many other crash pads in the city. I finally settled in a shared communal house, after living with the Hare Krishna and many other places.
I could write a book about my experiences, which included watching many bands in Piedmont Park.
I remember the biker “gypsy” and a guy called the “Mad Hatter” (because he was tall with freaked out hair and a tall morticians hat with an American Flag pasted to it.
I had a close friend whose name was Cosmo, who was a.w.o.l from the army. I’m not sure I knew anyone’s real name.
I have memories of that time, some good, some bad.
I was kidnapped in broad daylight by 3 men, and brutally raped at knife point for hours. Praying they wouldn’t kill me; out loud I prayed, “yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”
I was very liberal in my thinking back then, and thought the world was a beautiful place. The strip taught me differently, I came out alive, and I am now a street minister in Pa.
I found the Truth, but it wasn’t in me, it was in Him who saved my soul from death when I called on Him. I now share this with other girls.
Hey, and that “Hip Magazine” would be known as child pornography today, as I knew those girls and they were runaways just like me.
Very sad story. We want them all, that makes the closest to truth. The site has a list of six main questions to guide your story. Write or record and we can arrange someway to get it and post.
I was a runaway 16 year old, living on the strip, for a year and a half from 1969-1971. I went by the nickname “Truth”although my life was a lie of fake identity.
I remember selling the Bird and Hip Magazine on the street. I slept behind the garbage dumpster located on 10th street, behind that building that was partially torn down, less than a block from the strip. Along with many other crash pads in the city. I finally settled in a shared communal house, after living with the Hare Krishna and many other places.
I could write a book about my experiences, which included watching many bands in Piedmont Park.
I remember the biker “gypsy” and a guy called the “Mad Hatter” (because he was tall with freaked out hair and a tall morticians hat with an American Flag pasted to it.
I had a close friend whose name was Cosmo, who was a.w.o.l from the army. I’m not sure I knew anyone’s real name.
I have memories of that time, some good, some bad.
I was kidnapped in broad daylight by 3 men, and brutally raped at knife point for hours. Praying they wouldn’t kill me; out loud I prayed, “yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”
I was very liberal in my thinking back then, and thought the world was a beautiful place. The strip taught me differently, I came out alive, and I am now a street minister in Pa.
I found the Truth, but it wasn’t in me, it was in Him who saved my soul from death when I called on Him. I now share this with other girls.
Hey, and that “Hip Magazine” would be known as child pornography today, as I knew those girls and they were runaways just like me.
Donna
Very sad story. We want them all, that makes the closest to truth. The site has a list of six main questions to guide your story. Write or record and we can arrange someway to get it and post.