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The 15th Floor Commune Lounge, with about half of the members of the commune in this 1974 photo. The others were at work, at the U of T, or "away". Plus photographer Alex MacDonald would not allow Shirley Claydon to appear in the group photo of commune members for some reason.
Pam Berton
Beverly Ernenbacher
Bill Granger
Ira Rushwald
Click to enlarge Daily July 7, 1970 clip
Click to enlarge November 20, 1970 clip
Click to enlarge July 6, 1971 Daily clip
Click to enlarge Daily clip of January 26, 1971
Click to enlarge Tuesdaily March 16, 1971 clip
Click to enlarge Daily clip of April 13, 1971
Click to enlarge Fridaily clip July 9, 1971
Click to enlarge Tuesdaily August 30, 1971 clip
Click to enlarge Tuesdaily November 23, 1971 clip
Click to enlarge Tuesdaily November 30, 1971 clip
There were many communes in Rochdale College and the first was the "Utopian Research Institute" on the 13th floor started in October 1968. Plans for the "Naked Ashram" included a meditation and yoga room, a public coffee shop, a musical instrument-making workshop, and a 24 hour educational program. In late Spring 1969 a commune was started on the 16th floor East wing and quickly folded. The 14th Floor Commune was the most enduring and famous, and it began in July, 1969 in the East wing. Ashram communes on the 8th and 9th floors started in the Fall of 1969. Over the years communes existed on floors 3, 6, 8, 9, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, and 17. Usually they were in the Ashrams, although the 14th and 15th Floor Communes were the entire floors in the East wing. Rochdalians lived in them because they wanted to live communally and also to pay cheaper rent.
There were 16 floors in the East wing, usually with 5 Kafka units and 6 Gnostic units per floor, numbered 1 to 11. The L-shaped Ashrams had 4 single rooms and 4 double rooms with a large shared washroom, large lounge, and kitchenette. Rooms were numbered 12 to 19. In the 18 floor West wing there were usually 6 Aphrodite apartments and 1 huge Zeus apartment on each floor. the Zeus was #26 and was located at the far west end facing Bloor St. Apartments were unfurnished, more expensive, and the West wing was almost like a separate building. The halls were more quiet and empty with less traffic, and the residents tended to be conservative "filler" with more money. Units were numbered 20 to 26, and no communes ever existed in the West wing.
A Rochdale brochure explained: "The Gnostic unit is designed for three. It has a single room, a double room, a kitchen-dining area and a bathroom (toilet, bath/shower, sink). The Kafka unit is designed to house three people. It has a single room, a double room, and a bathroom. If you wish to cook you may use the kitchen in the Ashram. Some Kafkas have been converted to bachelor suites, with fridge, hot plate, table, chairs & countertop in a single area. The Ashram has four single rooms and four double unit rooms. Up to twelve people share kitchen, bath and lounge. This unit is designed to promote co-operative living. Ashram, Kafka and Gnostic rooms are equipped with bed, mattress, and desk. The Gnostic kitchen is provided with a table and chairs. Furniture is optional."
Floor plan drawings of Gnostic and Kafka units gave room dimensions. A Kafka single was 10' 2" by 9' 3". The double was 14' 7½" by 10' 5". A Gnostic Single was 11' by 9' 5". The double was 13' 6" by 11' 2". Units in the East wing and Ashrams were also equipped with white metal swivel lamps on the desks, and two long wedge-shaped vinyl cushions for the beds to be used as couches. All curtains were red, with vertical stripes of various shades of red.
In the early 1970's a list of rent for various units was published in the Tuesdaily:
"Below is a list of the new rents, that does not include special exceptions that were set up already.
Zeus: $240
Aphrodite: $150
Gnostic large: $80
Gnostic small: $70
Kafka & Ashram large: $70
Kafka & Ashram small: $55
Kafka unit regular: $110
Kafka Bachelor Units: $120
Ashram units 12 & 13: $65
Block rented Ashrams will be charged a standard rent of $430 except for the 17th floor, which has a small Ashram and will pay $360. The seventh floor, of course, is paying nothing, and the 15th because it is block-rented with some rooms on the 16th, will pay at the rate of $10 off the regular rent per room." (Perhaps "seventh floor" was meant to refer to the EdCon space on the sixth floor East wing.)
Generally the communes were groups of compatible Rochdalians with common interests living together to share responsibilities, work, resources, and to some extent possessions. Ron E. Roberts in his book, "The New Communes" described them as being a subclass of the larger category of Utopias. He listed three characteristics: egalitarianism, human scale (generally with fewer than 20 people), and consciously anti-bureaucratic. Dr. Bill Metcalf in his book "Shared Visions, Shared Lives" defined communes as having core principles: "the importance of the group as opposed to the nuclear family unit, a 'common purse', a collective household, and group decision making in general. Sharing everyday life and facilities, a commune is an idealised form of family, being a new sort of 'primary group'. Commune members have emotional bonds to the whole group rather than to any sub-group, and the commune is experienced with emotions which go beyond just social collectivity."
The 15th Floor Commune evolved in mid 1970 with no special rental agreement. By January 1971 the 15th floor advertised for new tenants in the Tuesdaily. In April the floor had a large banquet and it was called the "15th Floor Commune" in the June 1, 1971 Tuesdaily. It was started by those living on the 15th floor, who discussed the rent situation with the Rentals Office in July 1971 and reached an agreement after a week of negotiations. The commune included the entire East wing and the Ashram, making it the largest commune in Rochdale. Eventually it expanded to include the 16th floor Ashram. The first commune meeting under the block rental scheme happened at midnight July 7, 1971. Among the first residents were Mike Randell, Nickie Ashley, John Panter, Beverly Ernenbacker, Tim, Tanya, Rod, Britt, Bob, Sandie Bishop, and Sunshine (Suzanne McDougall Pederson from Denmark). Pam Berton moved into the 15th floor Commune in September of 1970 and lived in Kafka unit 1508. Karen Johnson, the head of the Rochdale Rental Department, suggested that she apply for membership in the 15th Floor Commune.
Pam, the daughter of Pierre Berton, lived in Rochdale College from 1968 until 1972, although she left each summer. She had lived on the 8th floor and the 11th floor (1110) previously. Mike Randell started out on the 8th floor according to Pam. Margot Cross also lived on the 8th floor in 1970, in Kafka 810. Pam's sister Patsy also lived in Rochdale College for a short time. The standard routine for joining the 15th Floor Commune was to personally meet each of the many members, then at a meeting the communards would decide if the applicant could join the commune. A decision had to be unanimous.
The 15th Floor Commune had a total of 27 units with potentially 42 beds. These beds were the standard wooden captain's beds with foam mattresses and 2 drawers below. In the commune double occupancy rooms tended to be used as single occupant large rooms, which meant there were much less than 42 beds. Two units were converted for communal use. The kitchen of Gnostic unit 1505 had two refrigerators and was used by those in Kafka units, who would otherwise have used the Ashram kitchen. A TV room was in the double of 1505 and the single was used for storage, a work shop, and a couple of refrigerators. The washroom had its toilet and sink removed and contained one refrigerator, with the bathtub covered over and cupboards installed. Up on the 16th floor one of the singles was used for storage and other purposes.
At first the 15th Floor Commune was a genuine commune. For example, there were communal dinners for 14 people including Pam Berton. The cost was $5 per week for 6 dinners. It was organized into teams of 2. Two would take a bundle buggy to Kensington Market to shop for food, two would cook the food, and so on. The 14 people took turns doing these tasks.
By the time I joined the commune in 1973 it had degenerated into a messy Yuppie-like co-op of relatively conservative young adults. Individual rooms were clean and tidy but common areas were not. The main hallway was filled with abandoned refrigerators, stoves and TVs gathering dust. I thought they were pigs. It was not egalitarian. Some merely lived in the commune and were not actively involved, and a few were just the partners of genuine members. Most worked at respectable jobs, some were students, and some of them were Yuppies ahead of their time. Librarian Heather MacFarlane left the dogmatic 13th Floor Commune and joined the so-called commune the same time I did. She told me, "I hate hippies."
I personally met all the tenants, who then voted to accept me at a meeting. One of the first communards I met with was John Panter, who worked for Rochdale Security. He was tall and thin, with long black hair and a beard. A biker type from the suburb of Scarborough, he wore all black clothing, including black underwear. He was living with Nickie Ashley and her son Sammy at the time in 1501. I explained to them that I had lived in Rochdale before, starting in 1969. Nickie sarcastically asked, "Were you one of the founding fathers or something?"
It took a few months, but I learned that Nickie's remark was based on the fact that almost everybody living in Rochdale then had never heard of the place when I first lived there. They deeply resented anyone like me who had lived there before them. I heard about Rochdale by word of mouth, but they learned about it from the mass media. Rochdalians from the past made them feel inadequate and less "hip", so they basically did not want people like me in Rochdale. They did pay lip service respect to people like Dennis Lee, Peter Turner, and Ed Apt. But they definitely wanted them to stay away. For example, when Mike Donaghy returned to Rochdale in 1974 dozens of people groaned. The groans that greeted Fergie's return were understandable, but Mike deserved a hero's welcome.
This was the only negative comment Nickie ever made to me. She was somewhat intolerant and narrow-minded in a self-righteous "politically correct" way. If she ruled the world we would be living in the Dark Ages, and she would muzzle outspoken people like me. However, Nickie was actually very sweet, intelligent, beautiful, and well respected by everyone. But she didn't do or accomplish much in Rochdale. Her popularity was all based on her good looks, pleasant personality, and the elite she associated with. Nonetheless, she contributed much to the Tuesdaily newsletters and was an important influence.
In 1509 Heather MacFarlane's roommate was Zan Willitts, a lovely redhead with very high ideals and convictions. Although Heather had contempt for her, she should have been an inspiration--not a target for her red neck insults. Zan was a strict vegetarian and worked at Etherea, the natural food restaurant on Rochdale's ground floor. Her favorite musician was Donovan Leitch and she collected all his records. She later paired up romantically with Bob Johnson, who was also a vegetarian living in the commune.
Did Heather have any redeeming qualities? Only from a bourgeois point of view. For her to say, "I hate hippies" is enough evidence to prove that she did not belong in Rochdale. She once arrogantly chastised me for saying something about her silly views on ballet. "What the hell do you know about ballet?" she snarled. I replied, "I'm sorry. I forgot you just arrived from the Yukon, home of the renowned Royal Yukon Ballet Company."
Heather often sniggered at comments I made. I appreciated that she got my humor, because not everybody did, but I wished she had a decent sounding laugh. A newspaper reporter came to the commune, and when she asked me my occupation, I replied, "I'm retired." Only Heather laughed. Heather could be amusingly clever at times. For example, at a commune meeting she was explaining something to Simon and said, "It's simple Simon". Everybody laughed. Heather loved the outdoors and sometimes went on trendy wilderness trips. She smoked cigarettes, but didn't drink much or use drugs. However, she mentioned that the first time she smoked hash, it was opiated. Once I asked Heather MacFarlane to trim the end of my hair at the back of my neck. I sat at her kitchen table in 1509 and she hacked away and made a mess of my hair. When I complained, she just smiled and said, "It'll grow back."
Bob Allen in 1504 was a short and skinny draft dodger from New York state, supposedly with a degree in Accountancy, which would account for his boring personality. He was soft spoken and usually didn't say much, which was good because of the chronic halitosis caused by his rotting teeth. Bob was a janitor and quite well respected by everyone in the building. It amused me that Bob would habitually watch "The Flintstones" cartoon show in the Commune TV room during his lunch breaks. It was Bob's idea of culture. He never used drugs, and never smoked marijuana, although he admmitted to once drinking a cup of marijuana tea. He lived in 1504 alone with his cat.
At the end of the Hall in 1502 lived Carol Tabuchi and her very quiet German boyfriend nobody got to know. Carol was a beautiful Asian with long black hair. She worked in a bank, her passion was horse back riding, and she was perpetually happy and cheerful. Carol and I eventually shared the same communal kitchen and had an ongoing tongue-in-cheek discussion about plans to rob a bank. Basically Carol was "filler" living in the so-called commune, because she was rarely around.
Tim Allan in 1506 was a professional musician who wasn't around much either. His music was not rock, mostly stringed instruments like acoustic guitar and banjo. He had a dreadful girlfriend who joined the commune, left Tim, and erratically jumped from one lover to another, complaining all the while. One who lived in the commune with her was a tall fallen Hari Krishna devotee named Hari Kunj. We got along well together because we were both vegetarian and had lived in India. Hari Kunj moved into 1511 when Dellard moved into the Ashram. One day he loaned my toilet plunger and I told him a scatological joke about it. In 1977 I met some fallen Hari Krishnas in London's Portobello Road area who knew Hari Kunj.
Then there was Margot Cross in the 1508 double. She was almost 30, a little too old and conservative to live in Rochdale. She was there primarily because of the building's proximity to the U. of T. where she worked as a librarian. Of Huguenot descent, she was originally from Edmonton where her father was a judge. She had traveled around the world and sometimes we discussed our adventures in India. Basically she was a book worm intellectual, never used drugs or alcohol, but smoked cigarettes. Margot loved classical music, Cat Stevens, and some rock songs such as Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven". She complained too much, often rudely and inappropriately. Margot got along very well with Heather and other intellectual types, and although she was a very decent person, she sucked and was in the wrong place. For one thing, she was a pseudo-intellectual and social snob. Another thing, she was much too critically mouthy for someone who would break down like a whimpering little girl in times of crisis.
Her roommate was first Rob Higgins from Parry Sound, a U of T student. Rob had to move out because on his way to classes one morning the police nabbed him, planted drugs on him, and charged him with trafficking in narcotics. A "Rob Higgins Defence Fund" was set up to help this victim of Toorotten police. Rob was replaced by Mike Wong who moved from 1502. Mike was a gentle, polite and scholarly U of T student who sometimes volunteered for Toad Lane Security on weekends. He definitely moved out but now claims he did not, although he can't remember where he lived or anything else. Unfortunately there are many people who mistake their imagination for their memory. Mike was replaced by a tall and beefy U of T student with long hair who loved live symphonic classical music more than anything. He had a season ticket to the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. This certainly endeared him to Margot. He was impressed by Jay Boldizsar because he witnessed Jay sweeping up the front plaza after a police raid and riot.
Across the hall from Margot was Gnostic unit 1505 that had been converted into a communal area. Those in Kafka units used the kitchen, the bathroom was part of the kitchen, there was a work shop and storage room, and a TV room. The 25 inch color TV was huge for that time period and was leased in Bill Granger's name. Every weekday it was crowded with fans of the Star Trek series at 5 p.m., and was also very popular with tenants throughout the building when there were news reports about Rochdale. There were three Rochdale trundle beds with their long black vinyl wedge-shaped cushions for viewers to relax on, and it was quite comfortable.
Next door to Margot in 1510 was Coco Cromwell, a gorgeous shapely black lady with an afro hairdo. She was a model and was having the time of her life in Rochdale. Nobody could party like Coco. I sometimes saw her in the very late hours at night alone, having a great time partying by herself. She was an inspiration. Coco lived alone in 1510 until eventually her boyfriend John Musgrave moved in with her, but he was rarely around the commune. He seemed to spend much of his time elsewhere in the building. Dozens of times I passed John in the hall and said, "Hello John" and he replied, "Hello John".
Across from Coco in 1507 lived Bill Granger. He worked at IBM as a computer expert. Before that he taught computer science as a high school teacher, but was fired for some reason. Bill was a very fine person, basically a Yuppie before it existed, and was always friendly and easy to get along with. Unlike almost all Rochdalians in the East wing, he did not use the captain's trundle bed that came with his bedroom, but had a large waterbed. Occasionally he would play the Guess Who's "American Woman" on his stereo full blast. Many of Bill's teeth were capped and he had a big toothy smile to show they were capped. The message was clear: "I'm so rich I have most of my teeth capped." His roommate was Ira Rushwald, an American post-graduate student at the U of T, who was kept occupied with his studies. Ira enjoyed listening to Radio Rochdale, but complained about the dynamics of the music. "They should use a compressor," he said, "because they're going to blow out my speakers."
Just outside their unit 1507 in the hallway was the communal telephone listed under the fictitious name of Joe Wertz. He was a student at the U of T and the commune's lifeguard. The phone was on a telephone table bench Margot, Bob Allen, Heather, and I had rescued from some houses being torn down on Yonge St. to make way for the Toronto Reference library. When we explored one old house in complete darkness Bob said it was like spelunking or potholing, that is exploring cave systems. But it became extremely spooky for some reason, so we were frightened and fled the building.
Near the main entrance to the commune was a bulletin board, fairly long and made of dark cork. It was filled with posts of public messages, advertisements, upcoming events, information, but mostly items about Rochdale, especially newspaper reports. After living in the commune for a few months I began pasting the Rochdale newspaper clips to the wall below and beside the bulletin board. Then I used various watered-down food colouring in areas to stain the clips in patterns so it looked more decorative, like an art collage. With the passage of time it became an interesting archive of the print media's perception and persecution of Rochdale. One day King Bill was looking at the news clips and noticed one of my letters to the editor. In it I mentioned that Rochdale was a "microcosm of society". Bill was surprised and asked me, "Did you write that?" in a very condescending and patronizing way, as if I were an idiot child. "Can't you read my name?" I responded. "I was working for the Toronto Star when I moved in here, you know." Then I walked away.
The first unit opposite the main entrance was 1511, the home of Casey Eaton, an intellectual American draft dodger from Fort Lauderdale, Florida with a sister named Gayle who also lived in the commune. Gayle was a beautiful blonde who talked like a California "Valley Girl". Casey lost his girlfriend during the transition of moving into the commune. He drank gallons of Coca-Cola at night and enjoyed reading science fiction. His favorite song was Sly and the Family Stone's "I Want to take You Higher" and he worked in an Encyclopaedia Britannica warehouse. Casey's roommate was Dellard Lebrosse from Parry Sound. He worked in "Ushers", Toronto's very worst food store. It was a bargain basement place that sold mostly ancient cans of food that had been stored for years in warehouses. He must have eaten food from his store, because he had a pasty complexion and acne. Ironically, Dellard eventually started the the biggest natural health food operation in the Parry Sound area.
There was the main lounge and kitchenette that was supposedly numbered 1500. Newspapers delivered every day were kept in the lounge along with a large collection of board games such as "Monopoly". The lounge also was a passageway that led to the Ashram rooms. Half the occupants were from the hick town of Parry Sound. Just inside the Ashram was a bright red aquatic lifesaver hanging on the wall at the entrance to the commune's fictitious swimming pool. It was actually a very small closet with a window in the door, originally intended to be a communal phone booth. Sometimes the lifesaver hung inside the booth, and could be seen through the window when the light was on.
In the Tuesdaily was a notice regarding the swimming pool: "Anyone knowing how to assemble a pool water filter pump is welcome on the fifteenth floor. We just paid out $35 for a second had pump and filter unit. The filter is together and looks like it should work, but the pump came in a bushel basket, and we can't figure it out. Apart from that the pool is going great. We've got the water in, but until we get the pump fixed, we have to put in new water ever couple of days, and in a big pool, that's a drag.
p.s. Joe Wertz has been hired as lifeguard."
Apparently the pool was so popular with Rochdalians that another Tuesdaily announced: "The 15th floor will not open its swimming pool for use by other members of this college this summer. They've taped all of the windows and doors airtight and can sometimes be found in room 1512 where they keep the oxygen tents. Their habituation is beginning to treat air pollution similar to how middle class families treated radiation around 1960."
The first Ashram room 1512 was occupied by Frank McGarret, a long haired man in his forties. He really didn't belong in Rochdale because of his age and his bourgeois baggage, but was well liked by everybody. He said, "The women in Rochdale are as beautiful as any I've ever seen." Frank was sad and angry about marriage, and said that once married with children a woman has little interest in her husband. He was once a sailor and worked in the Rochdale Printing Shop for some time, but later was kept busy with construction work outside the building. Frank was quite knowledgeable and told me about the Canadian governmnent's policy of forcing Canadian subsistance farmers into towns and cities. The Fund for Rural Economic Development of 1966 targeted rural communities by buying small farms and starting retraining programs to force marginal farmers to other jobs.
Susan Rogers was a very beautiful English lady, a little too old for Rochdale, although she fitted in very well. As a child in England she attended a vegetarian private school and was awakened each morning by the gentle sound of tinkling bells. She told me that she was married in Toronto with three children and sometimes her husband would drive by Rochdale and mock it. One day she simply abandoned her husband and children and moved into Rochdale. Her idea of the place was that it was strictly for having fun. She had no interest whatsoever in education, Govcon, or anything that involved work. Susan would never do anything that interfered with her pursuit of pleasure. Basically her notion of Rochdale was based on media reports and what she experienced living in the building. She had a habit of visiting me in my room whenever I had guests. It happened so often it could not have been a coincidence. Most likely she was just being nosey. By 1974 Susan developed an ambition to be a rock singer. She used my room and stereo equipment a few times to practice and improve her vocal chops. In early May 1975 she sang with a band on the 17th floor roof patio at the so-called "last General Meeting".
Then there was Sam Field, the very jolly postman for Rochdale from Parry Sound. His job was to sit in a small room in the first floor lobby area near the rear exit and give incoming mail to residents. He was also a petty drug dealer. Although drug dealing was strictly banned in the commune, he was able to discreetly sell marijuana with impunity, largely because the commune was not egalitarian in practice. It was hierarchical, with a pecking order ranging from the President of Rochdale College to silent nominal members, who were there merely as the partners of genuine members.
Mike Randell had lived in room 1512 and elsewhere in the Ashram over the years. He was sometimes President of Rochdale College and was often absent for short periods. Mike had long brown hair, was average in height, quite thin, with handsome fine features reminiscent of David Bowie. Often he wore auto mechanic overalls because he enjoyed working on his car in the basement parking garage. A former "Army brat" and son of a medical doctor, he had dropped out of the University of Toronto after one year to experience Rochdale. He was a very intelligent in-charge leader type, very respected by everybody because of his integrity, sense of humor, and charm. But his charm was often phoney, something he could turn on and off like a water tap. Strangely, he was very conservative, more conservative than some other tenants who were almost evicted for their conservative views. Mike was a monarchist, seemed to support Canada's Conservative political party, and admired conservatives such as Henry Kissinger. Eventually I concluded that Mike was a phoney, and he wasn't even aware of it.
Mike's worst fault was that he would often bluff. Whenever he was caught in a situation where his position was proven to be wrong, he would start bullshitting, usually by obfuscating and turning everything into a joke. Some thought his tactics were charming, but I thought he was a phoney. In fact, I considered him almost the enemy, and wondered if his frequent absences were to visit those who were closing Rochdale. Mike drank a lot of beer, although neighbours said he started out as a pothead. We got along fairly well, but there was a gap of mistrust and disapprobation between us. Eventually I realized that Mike's courtesy to me was just part of his job as President. He didn't like me at all, because I was the authentic real thing, and Mike was a phoney arm chair revolutionary, all rhetoric with no substance or action. But he was amusing. When arguing with me about vegetarianism he supported the eating of chickens by saying, "A chicken is just a fast vegetable." Mike would liven things up with spontaneous events such as a bicycle race through the halls of the commune. He and his good friend Simon both had a wicked Monty Python-type humor. Mike moved into 1519 when Bob Johnson left. He asked me to water his pot plants while he was away, and I did so. The next time Mike went away, he didn't ask but Cathy Johnson told me Mike said to water his plants, but I didn't. I refused to be treated like a servant errand boy. Cathy Johnson did the chore.
At the end of the Ashram hall in 1519 was Bob Johnson, a stereotypical hippie who was from a "Cheech and Chong" movie. Bob was exactly like Tommy Chong in appearance, behavior, and speech. He was vegetarian, very mellow and laid back, and only said anything negative when someone was not being mellow, laid back, and tolerant. His original name was Harold Snowden and he was known as Weird Harold for a while. Bob was also a drug dealer. He generally left his door open and the adjacent stairway door open to allow his marijuana customers quick and discreet access to his room. Sam Field probably benefited from the open stairway door for his customers as well. Bob always had a bushel basket filled with organically grown apples. Eventually he left the commune, lived in an apartment with Sam Field, then became Zan's boyfriend and they traveled around in a van. Room 1519 was taken over by Mike Randell when Bob moved out.
Upstairs on the 16th floor was the Ashram that was part of the 15th Floor Commune. Most of the people living there did not interact much with the communards below, although they always came to important meetings. One couple were inseparable and only communicated with themselves. Why were they living in a commune? The way they had cut themselves off from everybody was absolutely unbelievable. When I moved in, I was the only communard from the 15th floor who visited the 16th floor every day. There was a single room for storage there where I grew vegetables.
Sunshine (Suzanne McDougall Pederson) from an island off Denmark was one of the nicest people in the commune, always friendly, cheerful and smiling. Interestingly, she did not have an accent. Sunshine lived in 1517, then moved up to 16th floor Ashram into room 1619. A pleasingly plump blonde, she visited the 15th floor almost every day. One evening she was watching television with me in the TV room and Sam Field came in. Sunshine told Sam that she had been trying to seduce me without success. I had not noticed, because I was celibate and most sexual advances went over my head. Plus I was watching the TV program.
Trish Flint was a plump young woman who looked much like Cathy Johnson. Trish and I sometimes discussed rock music. We were both fans of the Ugly Ducklings, Mick Jagger's favorite Canadian band. Trish explained how the former "Strolling Bones" imitated the Stones. One of her favorite types of music she referred to as "cock rock". Trish had a live-in lover who rarely spoke. I couldn't understand what she saw in him, until one day he came out of the washroom in the nude. He was very well endowed, and that explained everything. Eventually Trish found a new boyfriend, who became my roommate. He was just Trish's boyfriend, never smiled, and didn't really belong or fit in Rochdale. Although he was nominally my roommate we didn't speak and I cannot remember his name, if I ever knew it.
There was also a technician for a TV cable company in the 16th floor Ashram. He was tall, thin, and handsome and well liked. However, he worked hard all day outside the building, so we didn't see him very often. Casey Eaton's ex-girlfriend and her new lover also lived up on the 16th floor. Like most of the residents of the 15th floor Commune, they were essentially "filler" in a self-contained area of the building. This was especially true of the "Parry Sounders" concentrated in the 15th floor Ashram. These hicks felt superior to everyone else and all they talked about was Parry Sound. Why the fuck didn't they stay there or go back to their mosquito and black fly infested hick town if it was so wonderful? What were they doing in Toronto? They actually made people like Mike Randell "honourary Parry Sounders". It was sickening for me to be looked down upon and criticized by phoney uneducated hicks.
On a typical weekday there would be considerable activity in the early morning. When most people left for work or the U of T the commune tended to be empty. After 5 p.m. things picked up with supper preparations, Star Trek in the TV room, and socializing in the lounge. There might be a game of chess, poker, or Monopoly on the dining room table, while over by the fireplace would be a group conversation. Communards would be sitting on the plush antique chairs and couch listening to Mike Randell explain why the "Jason and the Argonauts" fantasy movie has the best special effects by Ray Harryhausen. Or Mike would mention that Rochdale was one of the last high rises in Toronto to be made with real plaster applied over lath, not dry wall.
Meetings of the 15th Floor Commune were conducted in the lounge on the 15th floor. Usually the main thing on the agenda was the discussion and vote to decide if an applicant was suitable to move into the commune. Other issues varied widely. Communal feasts and parties were decided upon and planned. John Panter suggested we supply expensive wine at parties first. When everyone was drunk, the cheap wine could be used, because nobody could tell the difference. The annual Morgravia-Boulognia Embassy Ball was held each December 4th. It was dreamed up by President Mike Randell and former commune member Pam Berton, daughter of Canada's most famous author and TV personality. The idea was that the 15th floor would host a royal ball for the fictitious country of Morgravia-Boulognia. Invitations were printed on quality paper and sealed with red sealing wax using the official Morgravia-Boulognia soapstone seal. Although there were originally speeches at the Ball, this ended. And although there was an official national anthem for Morgravia-Boulognia, singing it also ended after two Balls. The annual Morgravia-Boulognia Embassy Ball was by far the largest and most popular party in Rochdale College history.
After I was voted in I paid my first and last month's rent into the communal bank account, along with the $5 per month communal fee for the telephone, newspaper delivery, TV rental, party refreshments, and so on. I moved into Gnostic unit 1503, with two bedrooms and a shared kitchen and bathroom. For the first month I was the only tenant in the unit and painted my single bedroom, the kitchen, and the bathroom white. A white cloth rice bag was hung over the stove for decoration. For my bedroom I also did the ceiling which originally had a cloud painting. When my next door neighbour Bob Allen noticed I had painted the ceiling, he complained, "I thought your said you liked the cloud ceiling." This comment immediately alerted me that Bob was an asshole. Every person I had met in my life who said, "I thought you said..." turned out to be someone to avoid. I replied, "Yeah, I liked it, but after staring at it for a few weeks I didn't like it. This is my territory, my room, and what I do to it does not concern you." Bob left after I glared at him for a minute. I was working for the Toronto Star when I moved in, but after a few months I quit my job at Canada's largest newspaper. Bob Allen complained about this, and I wanted to throw him out the window, or at least have the motherfucker deported. Instead, I patiently explained to Bob that I was an adult, made my own decisions, and didn't give a shit what a janitor thought about me. Bob was very self-righteous, but he lost all credibility with me when he and another man were in hot water for allowing two under age teeny boppers stay with them overnight.
Then I was joined by my roommate Cathy Johnson, a former "army brat" who moved into the double. She was a pleasant sociable lady who was pregnant and very easy to get along with. The father she had carefully chosen was Ian Argue. When the baby was born she named it Christopher, then Christopher Adam because I had suggested Adam. She had the baby circumcised, which I tried without success to discourage. Cathy did not understand that it was best to allow Christopher Adam to make that decision himself when he grew up. We had a disagreement about the use of insecticides for cockroach control. Cathy said, "They can survive on a diet of dust." One of our frequent visitors who came to see Cathy was Bob Naismith. He mentioned one evening that there was a person in our commune he wanted to have sex with. "Is it Susan Rogers?" Cathy asked. Bob shook his head and said, "No." Then he changed the subject and we never found found out who it was.
Like virtually everyone in the commune, Cathy was not a hippie or bohemian in any way. She was just a conventional "army brat" young woman who was very sociable, and wanted to meet everyone who was anyone. Cathy gossiped too much, which I hate. She told me about our mutual friend Ian who was her boyfriend in Ottawa. Ian worked as a gay hustler according to Cathy. After I heard this I never told her anything I did not want repeated to others. She obviously had absolutely no discretion regarding the affairs of others she befriended. I never trusted her because she proved to me many times she could not be trusted. However, as a biographer I'm a gossip myself, and I was very fond of Cathy because of her many good qualities.
I bought a stereo system, then upgraded to a better stereo. Christopher Adam's father Ian Argue bought my original stereo system, and when he noticed my new stereo he said, "Nice nice." It was a great stereo that I used for a couple of years. When the building was closed I sold it to Cathy Johnson, which was a mistake because I had difficulty finding a new good stereo. Cathy also gave me a very hard and unpleasant time about the stereo sale. Frankly, Cathy was nothing to me. By nothing, I mean she had no ideas or talents that interested me, and she gossiped like a hick. But the majority of people in Rochdale did, including myself occasionally.
One evening Cathy Johnson, Ira Rushwald, and I went for a walk in the Annex. On Bedford Road we "crashed" a fancy party that Ira knew about. It turned out that Ira was a friend of the host, so we were not crashing after all. Later we walked further up Bedford Rd. and ran into James Newell, the former Treasurer and President of Rochdale. Sitting in his wheelchair, he explained that his apartment on St. George Street was decorated with Rochdale furniture he had bought: the trundle bed and desk, plus the striped red curtains. James had fond memories of Rochdale, but never returned to see old friends. I had noticed James in the building and at Rochdale meetings in the past, and finally met him. We met quite a few more times, but never in Rochdale. Usually it was at a building where I was a lifeguard/pool manager and Jim Newell was there to attend a Christian meeting.
When I first moved into Rochdale it was known only by word of mouth. But the numerous drug busts made lurid front page headlines in newspapers across the country. This news destroyed Rochale's reputation and was advertising for druggies and drug dealers to move into Rochdale. They believed what they read and saw on TV, and that's basically what Rochdale became: what the media claimed it was. In the 1960's alcohol was avoided by hippies who considered it to be the inferior recreational drug of the despised older generation. But by the 1970's alcohol, especially beer, was extremely popular in Rochdale. It was a sign of the times, but was largely because of the druggie hicks and aging teeny boppers who moved into the building after reading about it in newspapers. Most Rochdalians thought and talked, but did not act much. Their drug-induced grandiose schemes remained fantasies to discuss.
The main hallway was still littered with many abandoned refrigerators, stoves and televisions. It was an obstacle course to walk down the hall. After I quit my job at the Toronto Star, I removed all the old appliances. The other major thing I accomplished was to gradually turn the lounge into an impressive showplace. Eventually the windows were covered with antique stained glass windows. A huge antique fireplace mantel with a screen, logs, and fireplace tools was set against a wall covered with old gray panels of barnwood. It looked like the real thing. The two stock light fixtures in our parlour area were replaced with antique black fixtures that hung down about a foot from the ceiling. Oil paintings, antique furniture, an oriental carpet, plants, a large vintage hi-fi console, and an antique clock on the fireplace mantel made the lounge look like it was located in an old mansion. Henry Pollard from the 12th Floor Commune and I bought the furniture at a second hand store. The mantlepiece and stained glass windows were rescued from buildings being demolished. One of my outside visitors was astonished by the lounge, and commented, "It looks like a movie set."
There was a large umbrella plant by the stained glass windows, and a healthy white trillium growing on the large coffee table. Mike Randell remarked that it is very difficult to grow trilliums indoors, and it is illegal because Ontario's official flower and official symbol is protected by law. Everyday I went cycling and in season I brought back large quantities of lilacs and yellow fosythia flowers. Frank McGarret said the forsythias were actually yellow wisteria flowers. Fresh flowers went in a large vase atop the vintage hi-fi console and I liked the smell lilacs gave the lounge. The clock on our white ornate antique mantel was electric, and was originally in the kitchen. One day Mike Randell and I were driving in his car down a laneway and I noticed an abandoned very old mantel clock. We stopped and took it back to Rochdale. The next morning I transferred the guts of the electric kitchen clock into the shell of the antique mantel clock. It was a perfect fit that looked authentic. Frank McGarret peeked into the kitchenette to see the time and looked puzzled. I pointed to the mantel and he did a double take when he realized what had happened.
Also in the lounge was a very large Rochdale wooden dining room table. It had some chairs, and there was a long black vinyl banquette seating bench that was attached to the walls by the table. A large electric lamp hung fairly low above the table. It was like a gambling or billiards pendant fixture of white crochet material in an inverted bowl shape. When I moved into 1506 I prepared my food in 1505 but ate it at the lounge dinner table.
On the barnwood wall above the fireplace mantel was a crucifix that John Taylor always hung upside down or had the corpus of Christ arranged in strange positions. He also attached paper dialogue balloons to it that read "I'm dead" or "Om dead". This was one of the phrases that John and Simon often said, and they pronounced it, "Om dead." A newspaper reporter was interviewing commune members one day and he also took photographs. The upside down crucifix with the dialogue balloon appeared in the Globe and Mail. Presumably the readers of the conservative newspaper concluded that we were irreverent satanists, because that is the meaning of an upside down crucifix. A simple cross upside down refers to St. Peter, who was crucified upside down. In fact, the Pope's throne has an upside down cross engraved in it as a symbol of St. Peter's humility and death.
Because I didn't want to live in a pigsty I cleaned and tidied up the communal lounge each morning. It took about 5 minutes unless there was a party the night before, when it could take as long as an hour. Once a week I vacuumed the main hallwall in the commune. One day I was vacuuming while the commune was vacant. The doorbell rang repeatedly, but I ignored it. Finally Cathy Johnson stormed in with her baby in a rage and kicked over the vacuum cleaner. She screamed at me for not opening the door. Cathy was too angry to reason with, but eventually I explained to her that it was her responsibility to have a key, and I was not obligated to answer the door. I was not the doorman, not her servant, not expecting any visitors myself, and she should have been grateful to me for keeping the commune clean without pay. Rochdalians were the most ungrateful assholes I ever met.
My very best friend Allan Brison visited sometimes, but he did not feel comfortable in Rochdale because like me he was vegetarian and did not drink alcohol, smoke, or use drugs. We continued to sunbathe in the nude on the roof-top patio on the 17th floor, and I visited him and his family who lived nearby in the Annex. Allan eventually stopped sunbathing with me on the roof because he believed it was healthier to sunbathe around 5 p.m., whereas I preferred the bright sunshine around midday. I was like the line from a Noël Coward song: "Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun."
After six months in the commune I moved directly across the hall into the double Kafka room in 1506 after Tim moved out. Basically I wanted southern exposure to see Lake Ontario and have more sunshine. I painted the room white and hung a huge antique stained glass window from Quebec with a fleur de lis design over my window. Visitors often commented about how large and clean my room looked. King Bill did. Coco Cromwell wiped her fingers along one of my shelves and exclaimed, "No dust!" About 6 months after moving in Trish Flint's new boyfriend moved into the single room, but he was basically "filler" who only associated with Trish. I now had to use the communal Gnostic kitchen, and shared a refrigerator with Margot Cross in the former washroom of 1505.
From my window I saw the final construction of the U of T's brutalist architectural monstrosity called Robarts library, and also the entire construction of the obscenely phallic CN Tower. One day I was sitting on my desk and the ledge of my window, and in the laneway down below Kevin O'Leary was looking up at me for far too long. He obviously disapproved, and I wanted to throw a brick or something at the bossy motherfucker. My good friend David Lawrence told me Kevin accosted him in the lobby and interrogated him for being "one of the biggest drug dealers in Rochdale". David was a naïve and very impressionable teeny bopper and didn't understand, so I explained that Kevin was a fascist parasite trying to intimidate him. One day I looked out my window and saw David throw hundreds of sheets of paper out his window from 1608 or 1610. Dave was the very last tenant evicted in late September 1975. When he graduated as a medical doctor he threw his tons of study notes up in the air. Habitually throwing paper in the air is crazy, so of course David Lawrence became an incompetent psychiatrist. I visited him countless times in Rochdale, but he never once visited me. When the building closed, David visited me over 100 times, but I never visited him.
Around the time I moved across the hall, Cathy Johnson and Christopher Adam moved into the 13th Floor Commune. Cathy was much happier there and her personality was noticeably improved. The first time I visited Cathy in her new home she was listening to a Frank Sinatra record, cheerfully singing along and dancing a bit. Ceilidh, the baby daughter of Jane Barnett, was lying naked on the floor smiling, looking somewhat provocative, yet innocent and intelligent. Not long afterwards Cathy and I danced together at a 15th Floor Commune party in the lounge. It seemed to turn her on, because she began flirting with me. I mentioned this to her and she backed off, so I said, "Now you're being coy." "Yes," she said, "I'm being coy." We both laughed and danced some more.
Jim Washington eventually moved in also, into room 1618. He was a black American from Chicago, probably a draft dodger because he hated the USA. Jim had lived in the building for some time, and had educational space on the 6th floor because he was an inventor. One of his creations was a bicycle that looked more like a torpedo shaped car. When I mentioned to him that I had lived in Rochdale in 1969, his reaction was identical to Nickie Ashley's: insecure and defensive hostility. I learned not to mention my previous history with the building because it made the newer generation of Rochdalians feel less "hip", inadequate and phoney. He was a decent and ethical man, although Margot Cross once said, "Jim is sometimes less than honest." Jim became the lover of Susan Rogers, but she dumped him. He was heartbroken, and Susan complained at a commune meeting that Jim was swinging out of a 16th floor window on a rope to get into her Ashram room on the 15th floor. Jim was an experienced airplane pilot as well as inventor, so apparently he had no fear of heights.
When I moved directly across the hall my room in 1503 was taken by Joel Scott from the suburbs. He was somewhat overweight, a vegetarian, and had very long brown hair. His fingernails were very long. And his toenails were also very long. You could say he was eccentric. Joel had an overblown unrealistic opinion of himself and his accomplishments. He was basically an arm chair revolutionary too lazy to get out of the chair. Joel had a position with the Toad Lane Tenants Association, and sat behind a desk in an office on the second floor. There were no visitors because nobody was interested. The entire scenario was simply useless window dressing. Dawn Golden was his roommate.
Dawn Golden was about 18, thin, with long brown hair, and a bad case of acne. She got her name from her Rosicrucian father who worked as a doorman at an exclusive downtown private club. He raised Dawn by giving her hashish that patrons at his job gave to him as tips. Dawn was more than a little crazy and the only teeny bopper in the commune. One day she suddenly hugged me in the hallway and said, "I love you so much." When I related this incident to Casey, he was envious because of her youth and lovely body. But I was turned off by her acne, forwardness, and I was celibate anyway.
For some strange reason Joel was reluctant to allow any new members to move into the commune at a time when there were vacancies. When Farouk Yourossie from Kabul, Afghanistan was attempting to move into the 15th floor Ashram, I had to argue with Joel for 10 minutes to accept Farouk. Later Joel and Farouk became good friends, and played chess most evenings in the lounge. Farouk had worked in Egypt and other exotic countries. He was a gentle soft spoken man who like so many Rochdalians did construction work. We often talked about Afghanistan and Iran, countries I had visited twice.
At one commune meeting Joel was giving another applicant a hard time. I said, "Joel, if everybody was a roadblock like you are, you would not have been allowed to move in here. Why do you give every applicant a hard time?" Joel became angry and said, "That's not true. Just name one person I tried to block." I replied, "Farouk. I had to argue with you for ten fucking minutes to allow him in." Joel completely denied this. However, Cindy Lei corroborated my version and Farouk never spoke to Joel again.
During another meeting the disastrous state of the kitchenette for the lounge was on the agenda. Although I habitually kept the lounge clean and tidy, the kitchenette was strictly for Ashram residents and their job to keep clean. Usually it was, but on this occasion there was a tremendous amount of garbage, old rotting food, and all the dishes, pots, pans, and everything needed to be cleaned. But it was such a gigantic mess it seemed an impossible task, like cleaning out the Stygian Stables. There was an emotional discussion then a boisterous argument about it. Finally Mike Randell solved the problem by turning off the kitchenette lights, closing its double doors and locking them shut.
Beverly Ernenbacker was one of the very few former members of the commune to return for a visit. She bought a farm north of Toronto with her boyfriend in the commune, and she sometimes came to Toronto. Beverly was a practical Jewish woman with many close friends in Rochdale. In the 1505 kitchen we had an interesting discussion about the outer leaves of the cabbage. She read a study that they contained more insecticide residue than the inside leaves, and I had been using the outer leaves in my juice extractor. There was a tremendous amount of hick gossip in Rochdale and I heard plenty from Beverly. She told me about a suprising revelation announced by Reg Hartt at a GovCon meeting. He told everybody that he is Gay. However, Reg denies it and says Beverly was his former girlfriend. His words were, "I don't believe in Gay." Huh? As for Beverly being his girlfriend, she said she did not know Reg and was already in a relationship with another man at the time.
Cindy Lei moved from the 10th floor into the commune as John Panter's lover in 1501. For a time they were a threesome with Nickie Ashley. But soon Nickie left and hitched up with Bill King for a while. Cindy was an American of Chinese descent who came to Canada in 1972. She was extremely active and important in Rochdale, an exceptional dancer who taught modern dance. Her dancing injured her back and she was often in pain. She owned a black male cat that sometimes sprayed it's odor in the communal hallway. One of the most respected people in Rochdale, Cindy was definitely the most impressive person I ever met in the building. She wore a ring that was given to her by Hugh Hefner of the Playboy empire. That's how she did managed to have a free advertisement about Rochdale published in Playboy magazine where she once worked.
From 1973 until 1975 Cindy was an essential member of both the Rochdale Educational Council and the Rochdale Governing Council, where she was Treasurer. She took the minutes at meetings of both councils. Among her countless contributions to Rochdale was chief organizer of the "Summer Solstice Fair" on the front patio of the building so "noise would reverberate north and west onto buildings where few people live." The Fair included dance, theater, and Tai-Chi, and a dramatized story of Rochdale. Then there was live music, which caused hundreds of neighbours to complain to City Hall about the noise.
It was said that Cindy Lei was not her original name, but that is true of most women. She was in her late 30's but looked 10 years younger. An Asian in a predominantly Caucasian society, she was exotic and special. Once a visitor mistook Carol Tabuchi for her and Cindy said, "You think we Orientals all look alike, don't you?" She also said, "The Chinese are the Jews of the Orient." When I mentioned this to Nickie Ashley, she was surprised and asked, "Did she really?" Nickie was very concerned that her son Sammy would overhear the somewhat anti-semitic remark. Overprotective perhaps, but she was trying to muzzle me once again.
Cindy was quite modest, but sometimes told me stories about her impressive background. As a young teenager in Chicago she was the next door neighbour to her friend Marilyn Monroe. What she told me about Marilyn would be front page news even now. I bought vegetables for Cindy and John Panter twice a week at Kensington Market for about a year. I cycled around the city everyday, whereas Cindy was preoccupied with her Rochdale work and had a bad back. When I took two correspondence art courses, I did very well in one, but with the other course the instructor was an asshole. He insisted that I draw a border around my art, which I refused to do. As an artist I hated the draftsman border and it was my decision to make. The instructor was adamant, but I simply sent in more of my work without borders until he kicked me out of the course. Cindy was an accomplished artist, so I asked her advice on the matter but she remained silent and inscrutable on the subject. Cindy rarely interfered with other people's affairs. This intelligent, idealistic, honest, and very helpful marvel literally worked herself to death to save Rochdale College.
Doug Hutchings also moved into the commune on the 16th floor from elsewhere in the building. He was a very educated tall and handsome man from Calgary, although he lived in NYC for some time. Doug also spent much time in the Caribbean. His wife was Patsy, a delightful small black lady from Alabama originally, and they had one child named Georgia. Doug said that when he and Patsy flew from NYC to Toronto, he explained his situation to an airport official who suggested he go to Rochdale. He had never heard of it, but moved in right away. Georgia was born in Rochdale around the same time as Kareem. When Doug moved into the commune his relationship with Patsy was over, and neither Patsy nor Georgia visited much. Doug was truthful, honest, and spoke his mind. He did not hesitate to talk about racialism and race relations, and this got him branded as a "racist" by some in the building, including Nicky Ashley. Unbelievable. Doug's favorite musician was Steve Wonder. His only real fault was sleepwalking in the nude throughout the building, including the lobby entrance. Doug shared my contempt for Alex MacDonald, who also moved into the commune, and called him an "arrogant mouthy asshole".
Alex MacDonald moved in the commune for a brief time and took Zan's room in 1509 shared with Heather MacFarlane. However, he definitely never lived in the commune, because his real home was Neil-Wycik College. He just needed to be a Rochdale resident to qualify to be BOSS of the place. However, he had lived in Rochdale previously with Walter Dmytrenko. Alex was a "blind" photographer. His vision was impaired in enough ways to qualify him as legally blind, but Alex never behaved like his vision was impaired. Actually his photos were quite good, probably because he used expensive cameras, but they were all b & w and looked too artsy. Alex only wanted to be THE BOSS of Rochdale, and to some extent he succeeded. He was once President of Neill-Wycik College at Ryerson University like Simon Liston, but Simon did not like him. He was a complete bullshitter, phoney, and swine noted for his boring bourgeois parties he held outside the building. At Governing Council meeting he always sat in the same place on tall filing cabinets six feet above everybody else. It was the throne of this egomaniac fascist motherfucker. He was always shooting off his mouth, as if he loved the sound of his own voice. Alex would babble on and on and on as if his mouth was not connected to his brain, and seemed to think his boring rhetoric was entertaining and enlightening. He was also an exhibitionist, which annoyed everyone in the commune. Nudity was not acceptable in the common areas, and trying to impress people with a mediocre cock was obscene. During one of his rare visits to the commune he nominally belonged to, Alex asked me if I would exchange bicycle pedals with him. There was nothing in it for me, but I agreed. Alex removed the steel rat trap type pedals from my bike and replaced them with the rubber pedals from his bike.
I had afternoon naps and placed a "Do Not Disturb" notice on my door during this nap period. One afternoon I was awakened by Alex MacDonald. When I opened the door, Alex grabbed me roughly by the throat with both hands and screamed, "Did you send that notice to Karen Johnson? Did you? Tell me now because I'm going to strangle you to death with my bare hands!" I did not know what he was talking about. It was almost impossible to speak, but managed to say I did not. Alex yelled, "It's a good thing you said that or you would be dead now!"
Several weeks later there was a newspaper article about Rochdale, and Alex MacDonald was quoted as saying, "Rochdale taught me how to relate to people". I hated Alex because of the vicious criminal assault. My neck was badly bruised and required medical attention. After this Alex was unwelcome on the 15th floor where he was essentially banned.
Cathy/Catherine/Kate (she kept changing her name) was a chain-smoking nurse whom Bill Granger brought from Montreal. She should have stayed there because she was an insufferable bitch, very obnoxious and hyper-critical. She stayed with Bill in 1507 for a while, then took the room in 1509 vacated by Alex MacDonald. For some inexplicable reason she hated me intensely and did not respect the pecking order of the commune. She just parachuted in and felt she was equal or superior to everyone else, whereas in fact she was merely an unwanted guest, an outcast not even part of the pecking order.
Simon Liston was formerly the President of Neill-Wycik College on the Ryerson campus, and he had an easy time moving into the 15th Floor Commune. Mike Randell escorted him from room to room and simply said, "This is my good friend Simon who wants to move into the commune." And that was it. Simon didn't have to say a word, and was voted in. He was likable, but he completely sucked and did not belong in Rochdale. His overbearing arrogance, self importance, total lack of integrity, and bourgeois values sickened me and turned my stomach. When he cowardly moved out, he became increasingly bourgeois and unbearable. The enemy. He was a construction worker with John Taylor, and when in the commune he was often amusing with his Monty Python inspired humour. In the weekday mornings Simon and John Taylor would usually leave the commune singing the "Snow White" tune "Hi ho, Hi ho, It's off to work we go."
Shirley Claydon was a very happy and bubbly strawberry blonde vegetarian from Thunder Bay, where her father owned a large construction company. So she had money and a classic 1964 blue Thunderbird car, known as a Flair Bird. It looked stylish and unique, and the interior was elaborate and complex with 4 bucket seats and a dazzling "flight deck" dash board with an array of toggle switches and flashing lights for air conditioning, power windows, power locks, power seats, a radio, and heater. Her car was parked underground. The Rochdale basement and sub-basement could accommodate 157 cars. Shirley was sociable in the 15th floor commune and to some extent in the building, but did not get involved much with the college except for being Vice President of the Toad Lane Tenants Association. Like many people from hick towns, she had some contempt for Toronto, especially the artistic scene. It was probably a defense mechanism to compensate for being from the sticks. She was in Rochdale strictly to have fun, and like most did not contribute much. One night a group of us drove in her sporty luxurious Thunderbird to the 99¢ Roxy Theatre to see the Beatles' "Magical Mystery Tour". It was mediocre, basically Paul McCartney's home movie except for the big budget climactic scene where the Beatles dressed in white tuxedos descend a Grand staircase singing "Your Mother Should Know". Eventually Shirley hitched up with John Taylor when he moved in. She claims she lived with me in 1503 briefly, which is not true, and then moved into 1502 which is questionable since Mike Wong and then Carol Tabuchi lived there. But she did live somewhere in the commune.
Shirley told a few of us that she used to love Janis Joplin's singing until someone told her Janis was not Opera, so Shirley stopped liking her. At one of our parties I put on the "Otis Redding at Monterery Pop" LP. After a couple of songs Shirley complained to me that it was "stale", and I told her I was not the DJ and to put on some music she liked. Later I put on some 1950's rock 'n' roll and Henry Pollard told me he liked contemporary music better. I told him I was not the DJ and to put on some music he liked. One night I used the word "cunt" and Shirley was outraged. Eureka! "Cunt" then became my favorite four letter word because "motherfucker" was becoming a compliment from overuse. Shirley told me she wasn't feeling very well. I asked her, "Don't tell me you're pregnant again?" This was something I said to many women. One evening I told Shirley "I'm going to bed. Alone." She laughed hysterically. Another night she stumbled out of Bill Granger's unit laughing and a little tipsy. She said how much she enjoyed his water bed, and went down the hall towards 1502, so maybe she did live there. When we acquired the wooden fireplace mantel, Shirley said at a meeting she wanted to strip the paint off. I would not allow it because it looked great white and my experience was people usually don't finish such projects. Shirley took a vacation in Florida and came back with a large bag of oranges she had stolen off trees in an orange grove.
John Taylor was from Parry Sound and was a husky, very happy man who lived in the 15th Floor Commune Ashram. He was a perfect match for Shirley Claydon. John became very good friends with Simon Liston and for a while they worked in construction together. Simon, John, and Shirley eventually moved out of the commune and lived together in a nearby house. Shirley always wanted to be in show biz, and a few years later she and John Taylor became entertainers and performers before they broke up.
The only time I went to church was on Christmas Eve. On the evening of December 24, 1973 I took Shirley Claydon across the street from Rochdale to Bloor Street United Church. Shirley didn't like it at all. However, one of the traditions of Bloor United is for the congregation to light sparklers at the end of the service and parade outside. The sparklers fascinated Shirley. They were located in boxes near the entrance, and Shirley "stole" a couple dozen of the largest ones. I was shocked at her behavior, and saw that she was very happy about it. She was smiling in a strange way and seemed to be in a child-like trance. The service had not begun, but we left and walked back across the street to Rochdale. Shirley handed out about a dozen sparklers to those in the main lobby. Everybody lit them up, waved them around and smiled. The entire lobby was transformed by the brilliant showers of sparks from the many hand held fireworks. It felt like Christmas. Then we returned to the 15th Floor Commune and Shirley distributed the rest of the sparklers to our fellow communards.
Jim Brennan lived in Bob Allen's room in 1504 for a few months while Bob was staying at the Rochdale Farm for about 4 months in 1974. Jim was the second youngest in the commune, a handsome man with very long blond hair from Trenton, Ontario. He always went bare chested, wore blue jeans and his occupation was Primal Scream patient. Jim only socialized with one friend outside the building in his Primal Scream group and me. He didn't like our neighbours and had an insulting nickname for Margot, although he was polite to her face. When he visited me he was always in a state of regression, usually imagining he was a child and behaving accordingly. For example, he habitually drank milk from a baby's bottle. Primal Scream Therapy was all the rage, and Heather tried it out. She complained that Jim was always bragging at the Primal Scream sessions that he was a hippie living in Rochdale College. Jim was not like that with me. We listened to old blues records together and usually discussed childhood development. My basic advice to Jim was to grow up, and not wallow in a forgotten childhood because it would reinforce psychological problems, not cure them.
Directly below us was the 14th Floor Commune. It was the entire East wing and had degenerated into drug dealer Syd Stern's territory. I only visited to deliver Tuesdailies. T C, a tall thin man with curly blond medium length hair lived in Gnostic unit 1411 and Peter Young also lived there or in 1409. Syd Stern, Ruth King, and baby True were in 1405. The first time I passed by I witnessed the sale of a stolen bicycle for $40 outside Syd's door, which was too criminal for me to stomach. Down the hall in Kafka unit 1404 or 1402 lived an older couple, Jake a hard working construction worker and his girlfriend Mary Stephens.
Peter Young was a bright young man who moved from the 14th floor commune to the 15th floor. He was originally from Hamilton, and had a good job at the U. of T. despite his limited formal education. He had short dark hair and in Yorkville he would have definitely been considered a "greaser". However, at one time he had long hair. He was easy-going, quite popular, and always wore brown Mexican huaraches, a type of sandal. Peter owned a house and also had legal entitlement to another unit in Rochdale which enabled him to be one of the last Rochdalians evicted.
Syd Stern visited the 15th Floor Commune lounge one evening to attend a meeting for all Rochdalians about a common issue. He knew it was hostile territory and he was vulnerable, looking uncomfortable, intimidated and quite wary of how he would be received. Syd relaxed when he realized he was welcome, and was polite, serious, and said very little, but listened. In one of the bullshit books about Rochdale, Alex MacDonald is quoted as saying that the 15th Floor Commune was, "the single most powerful political group in the building". No. We were isolated, self-contained and not political, whereas the 14th Floor Commune in its heyday was political and aggressively influential. Rochdalians viewed us as relatively bourgeois and tight-assed--large but not very important. Half the people in our commune were like the "filler" in the West wing, and everybody knew that. We didn't feel superior, only different, and did not throw our weight around. Syd Stern probably thought his commune was as powerful as ours, and maybe it was. Political power didn't interest us. It's only a concern for bossy egomaniacs like Alex MacDonald, which is one reason he didn't fit in our commune. If he chose to move into our commune because of its non-existent "political power", he made a big mistake. Polical power in Rochdale was primarily in the hands of GovCon and a few very popular "leaders". Toad Lane Tenants Association, EdCon, Rochdale Security, and all the communes were impotent compared to GovCon.
There was also the 14th Floor Ashram Commune comprised of mostly U of T graduate students. Henry Polard, a short overweight blond American Jew was trying for a second time to obtain a PhD. Francois Roesch from Paris was also a U of T student and a very good friend of Margot Cross. He often visited the 15th Floor Commune and charmed us with his French accent. Eyre Dann was an elderly retired Anglican priest. It's very easy to describe him. He attended a costume party on the 15th floor dressed in a white suit as Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Eyre Dann was not merely a look-alike, he was Colonel Sanders! Members of the 14th Floor Ashram Commune visited our commune frequently, but those in other communes never visited our commune socially. They only came to our parties. This was true of most Rochdalians. We had surprisingly few visitors, except when we had a party everybody in the building came.
Heather MacFarlane opened the door of the 13th Floor Ashram Commune smoking a foot long cigarette holder when I first met her. I was looking for a commune to move into and she suggested the 15th floor where she was moving. In the 13th Floor Commune were very serious and dogmatic intellectual types. Art Jacobs and his girlfriend Kathy Martin had moved from the USA with the Alternative Press Center which was relocated on the 6th floor. Michael Burns also worked for the Center. He was serious, hyper-critical, and proud to have 3 bowel movements each day. Jane Barnett was a very energetic woman with a baby girl named Ceilidh, and there was also Walter Dmytrenko, a self-assured media type from Winnipeg who never hesitated to lecture others. An example of the dogmatism in the commune is the case of former communards Ernie Fusco and Lucy Katz. Ernie did a lot of French cooking, and Lucy was happy to wash the dishes. But this broke the commune's "labour laws" and they were asked to leave. Obviously this was a genuine commune. Cathy Johnson, her baby son Christopher Adam, and Mike Donaghy also moved into the 13th Floor Commune.
At the top of the building was the 17th Floor Commune. It was in the smallest Ashram in the building and half of the members were nudists, including Peyton Brien and Johnny Potter--a very fine idealistic but spaced-out gentleman who owned a huge marijuana plant that supplied all his drug needs. Martin Heath was an English projectionist who did experiments in which "film and theatre were the principle experimental media for creating new kinds of awareness." The college librarian Charlotte Von Bezold also lived there along with a young couple, Candace and her tall bearded cab driver boyfriend named Bruno. They owned a dog that always humped my leg when I visited. I only laughed, but the dog's master was angry and chastised the dog every time. Susan Rogers once visited while the dog was humping away at my leg and she was outraged at its inappropriate display of affection.
And now for something completely different. On the 15th floor Mike Randell organized a bicycle race in the commune one night. The bike racers were Mike, Simon, John Taylor, Margot, and me. We started at the end of the Ashram (1519), cycled through the lounge to the end of the West wing hallway (1502) and back. We repeated it a few times and there was no clear winner because the racecourse was too unconventional and unsafe to cycle quickly. But it was a lot of fun while it lasted and typical of Mike and Simon's imaginative sense of humour.
Mike told us enthusiastically about one of his brainstorms that was rejected by Govcon. He wanted a huge gaudy neon sign installed on the roof of Rochdale facing Bloor St. The sign would flash on and off "Rochdale College".
We had a Thanksgiving Feast in 1974 and invited the other communes, so it was huge. The lounge was rearranged with many large tables to accommodate everybody. There was a tremendous quantity and variety of food donated by over a dozen people. My contribution was a large amount of vegetarian "Turkey" drum sticks. I prepared a mixture of ingredients for the "flesh" and used twigs for the "legs", then baked them in an oven. It's not the sort of thing I ever eat, so I didn't even taste them. But they must have been good, because Henry Polard from the 14th Floor Ashram Commune raved about them and ate about half a dozen. Our commune had no proper carving knife for the real turkey, so I loaned an expensive stainless steel carving knife and fork set from some friends in the Annex. Mike Randell carved the turkey and was impressed with the cutting tools. He mentioned that the turkey needs at least 15 minutes resting time after cooking and a good carving set is required.
I did much work for the Tuesdaily, and one of my contributions was a crossword puzzle I created that was mostly Rochdale in content. For some of the entries or "answers" I solicited input from others. An example was "Iago", a fictional character in Shakespeare's "Othello". The definition or "clue" was "villain in King Lear". Margot Cross told me there were five in King Lear: Edmund, Cornwall, Oswald, Regan, and Goneril. When the crossword puzzle was published Margot was annoyed at me for using "Iago". She told me I should have changed "King Lear" to "Othello" in the clues. One of the entries was "rim" and I decided "perform analingus" would be the sexiest definition. But I was unsure how well known it was. I asked Bob Naismith when he was visiting Cathy Johnson, and he gave the correct answer instantly. So I used it. Mike Randell was impressed that I knew "Ed Apt" for "sculptor of 'Unknown Student'". Some time later I created a second crossword puzzle for the Tuesdaily. The strange thing is I have never filled in a crossword puzzle in my life, yet I created two.
One day Kim Foikus, the former Town Fool of Vancouver, and I gave a pair of newspaper journalists a tour of the building. Kim was my partner in "Vegetable", an EdCon indoor gardening project in 602. Everything went well except when we visited Animal Dick where the reporters were turned off by the smelly filth and squalor. When we visited the lounge of the 15th Floor Commune even I was impressed by Kim. He was a great showman, and I was amazed at what a convincingly phoney academic he was. Usually he was down to earth and a bit of a clown, but during the press tour Kim behaved like a serious professor or scientist. He caressed the leaves of the umbrella plant in the lounge by a stained glass window and said, "This is a dwarf umbrella tree, Schefflera arboricola, and we should treat it for aphids." I looked concerned, caressed the leaves, and said, "Yes, Kim, you're right. Maybe we can try some nicotine tea." Kim agreed, then we took the reporters to the next location in the building.
Many people moved out of the commune, and to fill up the vacant rooms I suggested at a meeting that the commune advertise for new tenants. John Panter said, "We've never done that before." I countered with, "We've never been in this situation before." The ad was approved and posted on the front lobby bulletin board as well as the one in Etherea. A small ad in the Tuesdaily read, "wanted: responsible people to join the 15th floor commune. drop by." The ads attracted quite a few applicants, some of whom merely wanted a new home without rent. One of the applicants who read our ad was C. J. Feeney, also known as Lee Van Leer. He was a musician who had lived in Rochdale previously. In the mid 1960's he was in "The Sparrow" with John Kay, and the band later morphed into "Steppenwolf". I saw The Sparrow at the Penny Farthing in Yorkville Village in 1967, and I saw Feeney fronting "Neon Rose" on March 26, 1970 at the Toronto Rock Festival. He sat on a chair and played remarkable lead guitar using only his thumb. Unfortunately for C.J. Mike Randell did not like him. "He makes my skin crawl," Mike said. And that was the end of C.J. Feeney's attempt to join us.
Near the end of Rochdale College's existence, many people moved into our commune. However, the commune and building were virtually dead and the new "members" were not really communards. Basically they were guests, and we were giving them sanctuary after they were evicted from their own units. One of the new "members" was Marcia Whitford, who moved into the 16th floor Ashram of the 15th floor commune. She was an older teeny bopper swine from California, girlfriend to Peyton in the 17th floor commune, and they had a baby boy named Kareem. She had lived in the building for a couple of years and imagined she was the hippest person on Earth. Marcia had a beautiful body and very long red hair framing an angular face that had a perpetual smirk of hip smugness on it. She worked for Rochdale maintenance as a "charwoman". Even when not working she was constantly sweeping the floor in the 16th floor lounge.
Marcia was a kleptomaniac, and confused criminal activity with hippyism and revolution. She was the worst gossip monger in the building, always malicious, cruel and evil. Her neighbours called her Marcia Shitword. I had learned how to deal with gossip mongers and simply "put her on" as we said in the 1960's. I told her outrageous and obvious lies and she never got it, or the humor, but gossiped about the bullshit, which always came back to me. I just laughed. Once I overheard her enthusiastically telling another woman that Fergie planned to "liberate" the 15th Floor Commune and allow anyone to move in. Marcia thought that was great. A complete druggie, Marcia once said," I take acid regularly. It's very healthy, because it clears the cobwebs out of my brain." I imagined her vacuous and cavernous empty head festooned with cobwebs. Listening to Marcia babble on about her idiotic ideas made me dizzy. But her son Kareem was a lovely boy, and I used to watch him crawl along the floor at all-night parties to find bottles of beer to drink. Less than three years old, and he was already on the road to alcoholism. What kind of shithead criminal takes a toddler to all night parties and allows the baby to drink all the alcohol it can find?
George Vande Bunte also moved into the commune about this time. He was an American closeted gay with a well paying job and an expensive car. But George was a slimey sleazy scumbag who lied to join the commune. He was evicted from an apartment in the West wing where he was "filler" and made a deal with the receivers to simply move out. Instead he applied to the 15th floor commune and did not mention that he had sold out. I for one would have voted against him if I had known the truth. Gay capitalist George definitely never belonged in Rochdale and was there primarily because the building was the American enclave in Toronto. He didn't say much, but when questioned he did tell the truth, and my reaction was always, "What the fuck is this bourgeois square doing in Rochdale?" It makes me nauseous to think about him.
There were over 100 other members of the 15th Floor Commune over the years not mentioned here for obvious reasons. At the end when the commune's days were numbered there were many vacancies filled by anyone who wanted to move in, mostly Rochdalians evicted from their homes. There are too many names for me to remember. When researching my nonfiction historical novel "A Wolf Among Sheep" I contacted many former Rochdalians merely for names I could not remember. It was a very unpleasant task and only a few helped me. Shirley Claydon was the best source. Many were obnoxious and ignorant. Nickie Ashley could have helped very much, but the ultra-discreet bitch responded to my list of questions by merely giving me the name of her son Sammy. Thanks a lot, Nickie, or whatever the fuck you call yourself now. If all scholars shared her paranoid extreme prudence we would know nothing about history, biography, or anything. That's why I write that if Nickie Ashley ruled the world we would be living in the Dark Ages. Shame on her! A typical Rochdalian I contacted was Mike Wong, essentially "filler" in the commune. His memory was completely shot but he imagined otherwise. I told him his memory was gone and he was wrong about everything. Without my permission he sent a "train" of my email to a dozen Rochdalians, not to help me, but to attempt to prove he had an excellent memory. I ordered the motherfucker to retract the "train" he had sent and to drop dead--and I meant it!
When I moved into Rochdale I was warned by a few of my neighbours that Rochdale was in a precarious situation, and its days were probably numbered because of financial, political, and media problems. What I did not expect was that I would soon have to join the fight for Rochdale's survival. Simon Liston, Shirley Claydon, John Taylor, Sam Field, and many others did not fight. They fled the building because it was an impossible situation. Rochdale was hated by mainstream society, and CMHC had foreclosed on the mortgage. To make matters worse, the elite of Rochdale had decided to stop mortgage payments completely, using the specious logic that since it was impossible to pay off the 4 mortgages, there was no point in making any payments. The logical recourse was to attempt to pay off the mortgage and take legal action regarding the impossible situation caused by the incompetent planners. Instead the Rochdale elite kept the rent money for themselves. They received good salaries, bought a farm, and some of them like Kevin O'Leary bought a "Boogie Bus" and expensive audio/video equipment for his essentially private studio. With a budget, Rochdale College entered its "Golden Age" for the elite. But for ordinary tenants there was no gold, only evictions.
With the arrival of 1974, the end of Rochdale was clearly in sight. Most residents continued partying and selling drugs like there was no tomorrow. The 1970's was "The Me Decade", and having a good time seemed to be the priority of most people. However, the Rochdale elite on the Governing Council had to deal with the reality that the building would soon be closed, and all assets would be seized. This included the Rochdale Farm, a 360 acre retreat about 300 miles from Toronto near Killaloe, Ontario. It was decided to sell the farm to Rochdalians. On the 15th floor, a small group including me, Bob Allen, and Margot Cross were possibly interested in buying it. We drove up to Killaloe and spent a week-end at the farm to make a decision. The residents there were hospitable, but it was clear that they were saddened by the situation. Gord Clee, an overweight Rochdalian lived in a tent, and Jocelyne Rouillard lived in a dome she had built. The others lived in the farm house.
There was an attractive macho woman there who was once Mike Randell's girlfriend. She was quite bright, but very overbearing. One night she said something that I thought was brilliant. Although she was never vegetarian, she said that it was better to eat larger animals, because it meant fewer animals had to be slaughtered. However, she forever earned my wrath by violating my privacy in the outhouse. The small building had 3 toilet seats, and she entered while I was relieving himself. When I protested, she said, "We share everything here, including the toilets." I glared at her and sternly said, "Listen you crazy cunt, I'm a guest here and possibly one of the new owners of this farm. I don't care what you think. Scram! Get the fuck out of here before I rip your fucking face off!" She quickly left, slammed the door, and we never spoke again.
In early May 1975 well over a dozen Rochdalians visited the Rochdale Farm and at a meeting became members and part owners of the farm. I remained in Rochdale and did not attend. It didn't work out for most, but Jocelyne Rouillard, Gord Clee, Johnny Potter, Peyton Brien, Marcia Whitford, and a few others lived there for some time. I visited the farm three times and did not like it, the surrounding area, or most of the residents. When the building closed I spent the summer of 1975 on a private island in a large private lake north of Kingston. The lake water was clean enough to drink. I had my own motor boat, canoe and catamaran to use. There was a large vacant farmhouse on the lakeshore I sometimes stayed in. My companions were my very best friend Allan Brison and his wonderful family. Why the fuck would I waste my time at the shitty so-called Rochdale Farm?
I interviewed Mike Randell for the Tuesdaily in early 1974, and the last thing he said was: "Our worst option is not being able to put a deal together by November 8. If we don't Revenue Property gets the building. By the end of July or early August we'll know fairly definitely which of these deals is going to come through and which purchase offers are worthwhile. It is important to maintain and preserve a community until that time. Keeping up the spirit--continuing to function as if we were in a normal state because once you start not giving a shit then the whole thing disintegrates. People should be very careful about not jumping before they have to. People individually should make sure they have a lawyer to fight the NTVs."
At the end of March 1974, the court granted permission to empty Rochdale College of all tenants. Evictions began and quickly escalated. In May 87 notices were served and in June 151 more. Usually ten to twelve officials, six or seven Sheriff's officers, police, and the receiver's staff did the dirty work. Sledge hammers were generally required to open the door, and the tenants would be peacefully evicted. The doors were padlocked, but many were soon broken into and the room was re-occupied by another "tenant".
On July 30, 1974 there was a major riot at Rochdale. There was a drug bust in the East wing of the 10th floor and some dealers and many tenants blocked the exit of two policemen, who were trapped inside. Margot Cross and I went down the stairs to investigate. Electricity had been turned off on the floor and the elevators did not work. A crowd of about 25 Rochdalians including Margot and me were in the elevator lobby of the 10th floor. A policeman came to rescue his colleagues and pointed his gun at everybody. He was visibly scared shitless, and pointed the gun at Jackie Halliday's face. She was frozen as the cop held his gun and long metal flashlight in front of him and yelled, "Get the fuck out of the way, bitch!" Jackie didn't move fast enough and the cop slammed her head with both gun and flashlight. She turned a complete sideways somersault from the force of the hit. Apparently the police were trying to provoke a riot by assaulting women so they could use deadly force. The lights were out and it was a terrifying experience.
In the bravest act I ever witnessed in my life, Tony Osbourne who collected admission money for Reg Hartt's porn film screenings calmly walked right up to the armed policeman and said, "We're not going to harm you, and you're not going to shoot us. Put your gun away. Now!" The policeman backed down to some extent, lowered his gun from Tony's face, but still held the gun. In the most cowardly act I ever experienced in my life, Margot Cross began crying hysterically with fear. She actually stooped down and hid behind me as if I was her shield against bullets. At this point I forevermore had contempt for my neighbour, considering she seemed like a strong woman who never hesitated to criticize others about anything.
I went to the stairways and passed my beautiful neighbour Coco Cromwell. Blood was pouring from her mouth because a policeman had punched her in the face and knocked out her front tooth for no reason whatsoever. Actually he probably did it because she was black. Eventually Coco tried to take legal action. However, it became impossible because all her many photos and negatives at the modeling agency where she worked mysteriously disappeared.
Up on the 15th Floor Commune everybody was very concerned about the ensuing riot with Rochdalians trashing things and forcing the Greenie security guards out of the building. President Mike Randell was quite upset. Cindy Lei to the rescue! She left and went downstairs to end the riot. But instead she got caught up in the mob and trashed a lot of stuff herself. Cindy returned very happy about her accomplishment, and everybody was absolutely flabbergasted.
One morning Pauline Conquay of the Rentals office came to the main entrance of the commune and served Margot Cross and me an eviction notice for the entire commune. She was politely hostile and interrogated us. Pauline pronounced Margot's name Mar-got instead of the proper Mar-go. "Are you Mar-got Cross?" she asked. Every little detail she questioned. "What do you mean by 'we'?" she asked me. I said, "Do you think I was using the majestic plural to describe myself? Obviously I was referring to the members of the commune."
On Christmas Eve 1974 I took Margot Cross to the Church of St. Mary Magdalene located about a mile from Rochdale. Margot wanted to hear their choir sing Handel's Messiah, which is associated with Christmas. She discussed Mary Magdalene with her friend Eyre Dan, a retired Anglican priest in the 12th Floor Commune. He said it was the highest Anglican church in Toronto, influenced by a heritage both Anglican and Catholic. The religion was a form of Catholicism without papal control, or Protestantism with more elaborate liturgy and ritual. Some of its Catholic elements were controversial for the Anglican Church of Canada. We cycled over to the church and went inside to watch the show.
The church stage known as a chancel was crowded with priests in ornate vestments. One of them had an incense burner called a thurible, a large metal container dangling by chains. Incense smoke poured out of it and he swung it around. A couple of other priests held on to him because he was in a stoned trance from the clouds of incense, and they led him around the chancel for a few minutes to spread the incense everywhere. Margot and I looked at the congregation and unlike us they were all dressed up for church and obviously wealthy. I was enjoying the show on stage, but Margot felt very uncomfortable so we left early and returned to Rochdale.
Most residents stopped paying rent, including the 15th Floor Commune. This was not a unanimous decision, because Bob Allen often said at commune meetings, "Pay your rent." Nobody listened. The situation was worsened when many tenants voluntarily moved out because of the very unpleasant situation. Sam Field, the Rochdale mailman, passionately bitched to Margot Cross and me about the constant police raids and other unpleasant things. I told him that all Rochdalians were victimized by the fascist persecution, we didn't want to hear him bitching about it, and since he was so upset, he should shut up or move out. He quickly moved out.
In early 1975 Margot approached me in the communal kitchen in 1505. She was concerned about John Panter working long hours without pay for Rochdale Security in the lobby. John was looking sad and run down from the situation and I sympathized. It was completely Margot's idea and she had decided that we should donate $10 each for John Panter's work. This is the only thing Margot ever did for Rochdale! Because I never approved of Rochdale Security and I was never paid for the many hours of work I did for the commune and college, ordinarily I would have declined. But to please Margot I told her Toad Lane Security was voluntary, it was inappropriate to have a fixed donation amount, and I would offer $5. She grudgingly accepted it and scolded me for not giving $10. Because John Panter was involved I said nothing. Otherwise I would have demanded she return my $5 and given her a lecture on Rochdale Security, the etiquette of canvassing for donations, and her belated unprecedented activism that reeked of self-righteousness.
A few of the Rochdale elite bought a co-op house in the nearby Annex at 243 Albany Ave. Jay Boldizsar, Mike Randell, Kevin O'Leary, and a few others were the owners. It was "The House of Swine" because it was strictly for the Rochdale elite, and their plan was to gain legal control of Rochdale College. To do this they needed enough owners of their house to be members of Rochdale College Governing Council to form a quorum. They were one member short. So they had Bill Granger elected to GovCon. Bill Granger was Yuppie "filler" in Rochdale and he never attended GovCon or EdCon meetings and never had anything whatsoever to do with the college. For him to become a GovCon member was evil considering it was done only to transfer power from Rochdalians to "The House of Swine". When I learned that Karen Johnson had moved into 243 Albany Ave. I realized that these elitist swine were fascist motherfuckers worse than Clarkson, the federal Minister of Housing, and the Toorotten Police combined. Their house should have been burned to the ground while they were trapped inside. That would have given Rochdalians something to celebrate.
Michael McLachlan was the 15th Floor Commune's lawyer. He conveniently lived in the West wing of the 15th floor and graduated in 1974 specializing in criminal law. During the eviction process, when our commune went to court Michael unexpectedly chose me to go on the witness stand to represent the commune. He should have let me know in advance, because it was an unpleasant surprise for me. I was wearing my eyeglasses, which I rarely wear, to look serious and nerdish. When I was on the witness stand the eyeglasses made me feel self-conscious and phoney. I was asked many stupid questions by the prosecutor and at one point I responded with, "What's your point? What are you getting at? That's irrelevant." The judge sternly admonished me by saying, "I decide what is relevant in this court room. Answer the question." Like everyone else in the building we lost. They were all show trials.
The 15th floor Commune was approached by Ken Danson, a lawyer and the son of Ted Danson, who was the federal Minister of Housing closing Rochdale. Ken Danson offered to represent the commune for free and because he was obviously acting under the orders of his father, he was offering a deal regarding the $20,000 the commune owed for back rent and legal fees. Many communards had left the commune, but some were still legally tenants and/or they were responsible for rent they stopped paying while tenants. Bill Granger for example, was forced to move out quickly and sever all ties with the commune because he was being sued for over $10,000. Therefore many sucks thought this deal was a great idea and most other tenants went along with it. Simon Liston, who moved out of the commune the year before but owed rent money, was the very worst suck, extremely eager to make a deal. He praised Ken Danson and urged everyone to sell out. Simon should have been banned from the meeting because he was not a member of the commune, just a sleazy scumbag who didn't want to pay his rental debt. Some including me were appalled and nauseated by the situation. Those of us who disagreed with the Danson deal had a meeting in my room. Cindy Lei, Nickie Ashley, Coco Cromwell and a few others discussed the situation and we finally reluctantly agreed to join our fellow communards. A meeting was scheduled in the communal lounge to meet with Ken Danson.
For some reason Kevin O'Leary attended the meeting, and blatantly sucked up to Ken Danson. Kevin had nothing whatsoever to do with the 15th Floor Commune and very rarely visited. He had been evicted and was not even living in the building at this time. His presence was not merely grossly inappropriate. The private meeting was very important and for commune members only, yet the most parasitic egomaniac in Rochdale history crashed our meeting, interfered and took complete control of it for his own ambition. During the entire meeting Kevin O'Leary stood right beside Danson and behaved like a lackey advisor and assistant. For example, when Coco Cromwell in sexy blue jean shorts went up to Danson to sign a document, Kevin told Danson about the police knocking out her front tooth on July 30, 1974. Coco didn't want her missing tooth advertised publicly. We didn't want outsider Kevin O'Leary in control of our private commune meeting and sucking up to the son of the motherfucker who was evicting us. Everything about the Ken Danson representation and meeting was sickening. It was certainly a contributing factor in Cindy Lei's suicide.
Everybody signed a deal with Ken Danson to leave by May 15, 1975 and thereby avoid paying back rent and legal fees of $20,000. The one exception was Bob Allen who had a flimsy idea that his unit was somehow separate from the commune. Perhaps he paid his rent in an escrow account, but I can't remember the details. The legal flaw in his position was that he was living at the Rochdale Farm and not living or paying rent in 1504 for about 4 months in 1974.
The last meeting of the 15th Floor Commune took place in early May, 1975. It was for practical purposes to bring a proper closure to our commune, such as deciding what to do with the communal bank account. Heather MacFarlane cheerfully wondered what "we" were going to do with "our" antique items in the lounge. I criticized her "vulture" attitude and reminded her that I was largely responsible for almost all of the stuff, and I would take care of them. Heather never forgave me for the "vulture" remark. Peter Young helped me move the fireplace mantel to the house of my very best friend Allan Brison--where I was moving to. One of the stained glass windows I gave to Bill Granger, and he installed it in the front window of the co-op house at 243 Albany Ave. The mantel clock went to the co-op house at 138 Albany Ave. and was placed on their fireplace mantel. What was left I gave to the 13th Floor Commune because I thought they were remaining for a long time. But they were evicted a couple of weeks after us, and moved to Brunswick Ave. Many months later I noticed that one of our lounge oil paintings was hanging on the wall of Syd Stern's room at 95 Madison Ave.
On May 15, 1975, seven Sherrif's officers with sledgehammers backed by 25 policemen used a key to enter the 15th Floor Commune. Everybody was escorted out while a policeman videotaped everything. Before we left, I hugged Coco Cromwell and could sense her deep sorrow. Then Cindy Lei came up and embraced me. She was trembling inside, and it was frightening to feel Cindy's profound negative feelings of bitterness, despair, and icy cold death. All the communards left peacefully in small groups and were escorted outside the building. Bob Allen was evicted separately and harshly escorted outside by several police officers. Only Peter Young remained in the building because he was legally a tenant in a unit somewhere else in the building with no eviction order. His case was before the courts and Peter could not be evicted without an eviction order.
With hindsight I see the 15th Floor Commune as a phoney commune filled with phonies located in a phoney college that sold phoney diplomas and drugs. But I had a great time.
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© 2011 Wolf Sullivan
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