There is a great piece running at SFgate about the summer of lover in SF. It’s really good to see them taking a fresh look at the mythology surrounding San Francisco in the mid to late 60s.
When I moved into my building in the mid 90s the building manager told us about how the Haight Ashbury had turned into this crime ridden dope den and that it was a hangover from the summer of love. He told us stories of people passed out in the halls. Drug dealers lighting curtains on fire.
We heard other stories around the neighborhood from these total assholes who talked proudly of setting up crash pads for all these people who were invading the city. They would rent a place for just about nothing and then get money from all these kids just to sleep on the floor. He laughed about all the money he made off of the dumb kids. I guess love was free, but a floor to sleep on and a bowl of rice would cost you.
If you take a stroll down the Haight today you will see a lot of people who are still looking for that elusive summer of love that was never really here.