It turns out that my old college friends, whom I’m visiting in Cambridge, have a lot of snapshots taken around 1971 and 1972, right after we finished college. I’ll put up a few of them just for grins.

Four of us—Tim and Betsy (the people I’m visiting), Kenny King (my best friend, now deceased) and I—went to the wedding of two other college friends in Fort Worth, Texas. That was a high society affair, as the bride’s family were big oil people in Texas, and loaded. It was August in 1972. We drove from Williamsburg, Virginia to Fries, Virginia (to attend the annual Fiddler’s Convention), and then all the way to Forth Worth in a 1971 Dodge Colt, spending the night in the Highland House, a drug halfway house and the only place where we could score a “free sleep”.  (The rules they told us: “Stash your dope off the lot, and dudes and chicks gotta split up.”) It was filthy but the price ($0) was right.

Remember, these are hand-held photos of old snapshots in an album:

Here tiz! Joker Joe’s, a truckstop and firework emporium in Tennessee. Left to right: me, Betsy, and Kenny.

Our arrival in Texas! Left to right: Tim, Kenny, and I:

This was taken after going to downtown Fort Worth to rent our tuxes (several of us were in the wedding party). Left to right, Bob Hancock, Kenny, Will Hausman (the groom), me (flashing), and Richard Mohs, from Webster, South Dakota. We all lived in the same dorm during freshman year (1967-1968) at William and Mary.

The wedding party, as dapper as a group of dressed-up hippies can be. Left to right: Tim, Richard, me, Phil (Will’s brother) and Kenny.

I have others, but they’re too salacious to post here.

After the wedding Richard drove us to his home in Webster, South Dakota (a tiny town in the middle of grainfields) and then, after a short stay lubricated with America’s worst beer (Grain Belt), Kenny and I took off hitchhiking towards Boston. That segment was an epic trip, too long to recount here.