Jim Littrell and the Voyage House Gang
Finding a niche in The Movement in the summer of 1972 was a 9,000-mile journey from Saint Paul, MN to Strawberry Lake, CO, to Miami Beach FLA, back west to Berkeley, CA, and finally east to Philadelphia, PA where I met the Voyage House gang, and was steered towards productivism inside The Movement – rather than radicalism and violence. Years later, my friend Sara Olson explained how easy it was to get caught-up in the SLA, a radical organization committed to the violent overthrow of capitalism. But for the grace of God, I didn’t meet Bill and Emily Harris (SLA’ers) doing their prison reform work while in California that summer of 1972. I might have joined in.
How easy it might have been is told in a four act play I wrote, with some fact and some fiction, about Sara’s story. I recommend waiting to read that later. It’s titled “A Complex Apology” and can be found in the Archives. The point of the play is to show how the person you are in your 20s is not always the person you become. In Sara’s case, while underground, she spoke from the well of the Minnesota House dressed as Susan B. Anthony on the 75th anniversary of women getting the right to vote, and to this day continues to do good work on prison reform.
caption: what Sara dressed like speaking to the Minnesota Legislature
All senior year of college I spent most days reading from the Compendium and could hardly wait to graduate and join The Movement. On commencement day I led the procession with a sign on one side “Blue is the Smoke of War, White the Bones of Men, and Red the Time to Stop” and the other side: “They Also Die Who Stand & Watch.” The next day I headed to California on a motorcycle with enough money to last three months. Picked up a hitchhiker in Estes Park, Colorado, who asked, “You going to the festival?”
And that’s how I ended up at the first ever Rainbow Family Gathering, quickly getting high on acid (thanks to the fellow walking around with a jug of water saying, “Just a little sip – it’s electric.”). Like a ton of bricks, it hit me: I was in the midst of a drop-out culture! (i.e., not The Movement.) Without even a quick dip with the others, nude, in Strawberry Lake, I told my hitchhiking buddy I was turning my bike around and heading to Miami Beach for the Democrat and Republican National Conventions.
caption: nude swimmers in Strawberry Lake
I ditched the motorcycle at my parent’s house in Philadelphia, and with my sister, Murph, we got a ride to the Florida conventions with John Froines, her professor at Goddard College, and of Chicago Seven fame. Although the crowd protesting conventional politics was definitely less “drop-outish” than the one at Strawberry Lake, it didn’t seem very productive, so Murph and I took off hitchhiking for California. Along the way we came close to death meeting-up with some rednecks in Chattanooga. (Full story titled “Can I Take Your Girl for a Spin?” can be found in the Archives or by clicking <Here>.)
Arriving in Berkeley, I picked up a copy of The Movement book, Vocations for Social Change, and read about Voyage House, a place in Philadelphia hiring streetworkers. Using my last dollars I bought a one-way Amtrak ticket to Philadelphia.
Jim Littrell was an Episcopal minister in Philadelphia and the founder of Voyage House, a counseling and drop-in center for run-away and “throw-away” youth. He hired me to be his first “streetworker” in the fall of 1972 – my first job out of college. In addition to the storefront drop-in center (a block from Rittenhouse Square where throw-away youth hung-out along with the pimps, the drug dealers – and now me too), Voyage House had crash-pads, long-term group homes for court placements and an alternative high school. These folks, who did the counseling, the foster parenting and the teaching, were my first post-college friends, and showed me how to make a living, amongst people you liked, doing good in the world. Thanks, you guys – Jim Littrell, Lance Hoch, Mary Pennington, Russell Lynch, et al.
P.S. I lost track of Jim Littrell after he returned to Buffalo to be a priest, and Lance Hoch after he moved to Australia – hope this finds them well. Mary and Russell and I had a re-union the fall of 2022 in Athens, Georgia, where Russell is the curator of the Harriet Tubman Museum.
caption: Lance Hoch, with beard, Lee & Gary (some of the Gang)
On meager incomes, many of the Voyage House staff lived in semi-communal settings sharing overhead and meals together with others in The Movement. One housemate, Tom ______, was a graduate of Saul Alinsky’s community organizing school, in town organizing a senior federation. It was exciting thinking about going to organizing school, but Tom steered me to law school, saying, “The Movement needs more good lawyers. You already know everything to know about organizing.” Tom, you might not remember me, I might not remember your last name, but I remember you!
