| TRAVELS OF DURSMIRG VOLUME IV THE ROGUES OF ST. AUGUSTINE AND OTHER SOCIAL MISFITS Chapter 55 |
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YACHTERS, THE GOOD, BAD AND THE UGLY: STAN AND DELORES
Stan and Dolores Compton; were want-to-be hippie gurus…and they definitely qualified. These two spaced-out
dropouts dressed the part, talked the talk and acted the act.
They dressed themselves in an attire of all white cotton garb and Nehru collars like the Indians from India.
Beads, bangles and leather thronged sandals gave a touch of ersatz authenticity.
To round out their far-out flower child dropout image they made some kind of social misfit statement with their long
straight stringy hair with a slightly mated unwashed greasy facade.
Their ensemble was embellished with their adornments of wooden beads and sea shells strung around their ankles,
necks and wrists.
The unmistakable aroma of incense commingled with cannabis jointly enhanced a stoned out dazed out “what, me
worry?” glazed gaze.
Stan could well afford his eccentric idiosyncrasies with his monthly disability check to ease the pain of his laid-back
life style.
The city of Baltimore’s fire department was bankrolling this guy for a bum ticker but Stan didn’t have any problem
with that while he was living the good life bicycling the town and sailing the waterways.
Back in the other world of work-a-day Baltimore, Stan had been known as “Mr. Clean”
These societal drop-outs and social misfits, Stan and Dolores wouldn’t allow their little daughter Jane to attend
public school and insisted that she be home taught.
When we first met these two, both Stan and Dolores would ride their bicycles everywhere around old St. Augustine
then all at once there were no bikes. Then they just walked because one day a vision came to Stan and he deemed
bicycles too unsafe?
By some unimaginable compelling inspiration this hippie guru and drop-out Stan decided to uproot and move off to
India. Then he became known as Packy-Stan
Two weeks after Stan, Dolores and their little daughter Jane disappeared off on their inspirational pilgrimage to the
far off promised land of India we saw them back again out at the K-mart shopping center.
I asked Stan, “Aren’t you going off to India?”
Stan’s reply was; “Yes, been there, heavy trip man”.
That was it?
That was all we ever heard about the much planned and heavily plotted pilgrimage trip off to the promised land of
India.
They bought an old two story wooden frame house on Pine Street across from the historical “Nombre de Dios” the
first Catholic mission in Florida.
The house wasn’t much to look at but the location was extraordinary. Across the quiet dead end side street was this
enormous park with expansive tree covered grounds extending three blocks from San Marco street all the way down
to the waterfront.
Stan and Dolores rented their upstairs to some mutual sail boating friends of ours, John and Mary Darrell, who both
worked down at the St. George Tavern in the historical district on St. George Street.
John and Mary had come to St. Augustine as part of the1970s drop-out crowd on a very small fiberglass sailboat
they had sailed down from New Jersey.
Skinny Stan always seemed to find the money for what ever he wanted to satisfy his spaced out far-out dropout
whimsical idiosyncrasies.
Packy -Stan didn’t have any trouble spending his monthly disability check and always had a long string of expensive
expenditures that included a house, camper van and various sailboats.
Somehow Stan and Dolores found their niche and were drawn into a perfect fit with the social misfits and societal
drop-outs that populated little old St. Augustine of the1960s and 70s
next chapter
Stan and Dolores Compton; were want-to-be hippie gurus…and they definitely qualified. These two spaced-out
dropouts dressed the part, talked the talk and acted the act.
They dressed themselves in an attire of all white cotton garb and Nehru collars like the Indians from India.
Beads, bangles and leather thronged sandals gave a touch of ersatz authenticity.
To round out their far-out flower child dropout image they made some kind of social misfit statement with their long
straight stringy hair with a slightly mated unwashed greasy facade.
Their ensemble was embellished with their adornments of wooden beads and sea shells strung around their ankles,
necks and wrists.
The unmistakable aroma of incense commingled with cannabis jointly enhanced a stoned out dazed out “what, me
worry?” glazed gaze.
Stan could well afford his eccentric idiosyncrasies with his monthly disability check to ease the pain of his laid-back
life style.
The city of Baltimore’s fire department was bankrolling this guy for a bum ticker but Stan didn’t have any problem
with that while he was living the good life bicycling the town and sailing the waterways.
Back in the other world of work-a-day Baltimore, Stan had been known as “Mr. Clean”
These societal drop-outs and social misfits, Stan and Dolores wouldn’t allow their little daughter Jane to attend
public school and insisted that she be home taught.
When we first met these two, both Stan and Dolores would ride their bicycles everywhere around old St. Augustine
then all at once there were no bikes. Then they just walked because one day a vision came to Stan and he deemed
bicycles too unsafe?
By some unimaginable compelling inspiration this hippie guru and drop-out Stan decided to uproot and move off to
India. Then he became known as Packy-Stan
Two weeks after Stan, Dolores and their little daughter Jane disappeared off on their inspirational pilgrimage to the
far off promised land of India we saw them back again out at the K-mart shopping center.
I asked Stan, “Aren’t you going off to India?”
Stan’s reply was; “Yes, been there, heavy trip man”.
That was it?
That was all we ever heard about the much planned and heavily plotted pilgrimage trip off to the promised land of
India.
They bought an old two story wooden frame house on Pine Street across from the historical “Nombre de Dios” the
first Catholic mission in Florida.
The house wasn’t much to look at but the location was extraordinary. Across the quiet dead end side street was this
enormous park with expansive tree covered grounds extending three blocks from San Marco street all the way down
to the waterfront.
Stan and Dolores rented their upstairs to some mutual sail boating friends of ours, John and Mary Darrell, who both
worked down at the St. George Tavern in the historical district on St. George Street.
John and Mary had come to St. Augustine as part of the1970s drop-out crowd on a very small fiberglass sailboat
they had sailed down from New Jersey.
Skinny Stan always seemed to find the money for what ever he wanted to satisfy his spaced out far-out dropout
whimsical idiosyncrasies.
Packy -Stan didn’t have any trouble spending his monthly disability check and always had a long string of expensive
expenditures that included a house, camper van and various sailboats.
Somehow Stan and Dolores found their niche and were drawn into a perfect fit with the social misfits and societal
drop-outs that populated little old St. Augustine of the1960s and 70s
next chapter