Les was into parasailing. His sail fit into a 25 pound backpack. He had a habit of seeking out high places. Sometimes he took the bus. He would get the bus to stop. He would get off the bus and he would take a running jump off a cliff Into thin air. That’s the image I see whenever I think of Les.

A young woman friend of mine is going to interview Ben and me for a radio show about the history of the Home Farm. We are officially old geezers now. Also I am plugging away at a paper I am writing for a college class I audited about fugitive communities. The subject of the paper is what made us make the Home Farm and what made us quit. I may be calling some of you all for stories and advice. It does my heart good that we all love and talk to each other still.