In the late 1960s and early 1970s, we believed we were living in modern times. There were no cell phones; they hadn’t been invented yet. People didn’t have home computers. Of course there were cars and television sets, but not everyone had them. America had put a man on the moon, and we thought we were a part of the future. Every generation believes they’re living in modern times, and at that conscious moment, they are. Remember: the past was once the future, and the present passes with the blink of an eye.
Danny Allen was an unusually gifted artist. He committed suicide in early November of 1974, at the age of 28. My writing is a tribute in loving memory to a wonderful, quirky young man from a different era. This book tells the story of the life that Danny Allen and I shared during the hippie years. I hope it will also serve as both an archive of Danny’s artwork and a celebration of a life that ended tragically and all too soon.
Bill Whiting, 1/5/2013