The Sunshine Makers Page #7

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we made, Conti just denied,

interrupted our

lawyers, yelled at them.

I mean, he's a sick man.

It was blow after

blow after blow.

And they had 63 witnesses

for the prosecution.

They spent one or two million

dollars.

I feel pretty proud that it

cost them that much to get me.

And I'm just one little guy,

you know, with a good idea.

When I

got on the stand,

I really wanted

to try to explain

why we made psychedelics.

I actually did

convince the judge

that there was a chance that

I was an idealist

rather than in it for the money.

But when he sentenced

me, he said,

"idealists are the most

dangerous kind."

And socked it to me

with 20 years.

Mr. Scully is a brilliant

man, but not very smart.

An idealist without

a conscience.

He was impeding

justice and impeding

the moral lives and well-being

of many, many citizens.

Heroically,

he stood up for us,

and really got slammed for it.

He got a 20-year sentence.

I got only a 15-year sentence.

That was a really bad moment.

And I didn't have long in the

courtroom to think about it.

I was whisked away pretty

quickly into the holding cell.

Deep in my heart

I have some sympathy for all

the people who went to prison.

I don't really have sympathy

on the basis of the chronology.

Maybe he is not doing it anymore

and doesn't

intend to do it anymore.

But the fact is, he did it, and

he was an important trafficker.

And an example has

to be set for other people

who want to enter the business.

I climbed

up on the bunk

and pulled the blanket

over my head

and cried for a while

cause I thought,

it was going to be pretty scary

being in prison for a long time.

I was going to get

sent where all

those tough guys were that I

didn't get along with very well

in high school.

It's McNeil Island

Federal Penitentiary,

the oldest federal penal

facility in the United States.

I was sent up

to NcNeil Island,

in link and belly chains

and handcuffs.

They put you through

a delousing procedure,

take away your clothes and put

you through a special shower,

a medicinal scrub.

When I first drove up I made

a naive venture, first up.

There were guys who

had been in motorcycle gangs.

Guys were there for murder.

There was one

Eskimo who was there

for eating his whole family.

They were generally

a fairly intimidating lot.

I couldn't begin to

tell you how many people in here

have had encounters

that they didn't want.

A lot of the guys

were frightened,

they would be turned

into a punk,

and be raped by the other

prisoners.

It's part of the

dehumanization process.

There's only one way to do time,

and that's to do it

one day at a time.

That's the only way you

can, and keep your sanity.

I did have

a little difficulty at first

because a number of people tried

to make me offers I couldn't

refuse to become

the distributor for all

the drugs they

expected I was going

to be bringing into the prison.

The answer I gave all of them was,

"just wait for my crime partner"

to get here.

I don't have any drugs."

Usually

crime partners,

as they're referred to,

are kept separate.

For some reason they

put us together.

We were bunkies. He had the top bunk.

I had the bottom bunk.

My girlfriend at the time

would come to the prison.

And she would have

a balloon with a variety

of psychedelics in it.

When we got up to be allowed

our one hug and kiss,

she put the balloon

from her mouth into mine

and I swallowed it.

I had to sh*t it out,

and I had to clean it up,

and then I had to unwrap it.

And then I had to figure

some way of dosing it out.

He starting

running sessions in the cell.

He would typically do

it after lights out.

He'd open the door to his

locker where he had

a picture of Ganesh pasted

in the door.

He'd light a candle

and he and the other folks

who were getting high

would sit around,

shielded from the guard's

vision as they walked by.

I mean, he's a great session

guide.

We formed an eight man

psychedelic cell.

Had a mafia guy in it.

He took acid with us,

because he wasn't a p*ssy.

"As he came out of that session

he said, "hey guys, you know,

that's the first time I've

been in church in 30 years."

I began to monitor

the delivery of food.

Somehow I got some LSD

in there and the word got out.

Everybody would rather take LSD

than being just sitting

in jail, right.

We got the whole

of the prison stoned.

This is what freedom

is really about.

It's not about not

being in chains.

It's about not having

your mind enslaved.

I just

didn't take part in it.

I went to bed and read a book

if the lights were still on.

And when the lights went

out I always went to sleep.

The prison library

was in terrible shape.

I offered to update

the card catalogs

so it would be accurate.

And the librarian

said, "OK, you're hired."

Tim got up in the morning

as soon as the gates were open.

Boom, stayed there all day.

He was studying the case, trying

to find constitutional issues,

that would help get us off.

Judge Conti

had set our bail

at a very, very high figure,

half a million dollars each.

We filed bail appeals.

So we both got out

on appeal bond.

And it was a big relief.

Get in your cells!

I said

goodbye to Nick in prison.

I remember wishing him luck.

I couldn't really

focus on anything for a while.

It's hard to come back in after

you've been in that system.

The system changes you

and not for the better.

It took a few

months for the Supreme Court

to decline to hear my case.

And when I heard we'd

lost that appeal,

I wasn't tremendously surprised,

but I was really disappointed.

I was doing everything

I could to get

ready to go back to prison.

I had a little

houseboat in Sausalito.

I was living there

with my Buddha

and all my Persian carpets

that I liked to collect.

And we were just

sitting down preparing,

for a psychedelic session that

I was going to be guiding,

for 12 people from the Bay Area.

As I was finishing up

all the preparations,

Nancy came in and said, "we've

got to get you out of here."

I just got a call from Tim.

They have denied your appeal.

And you're going

to be picked up in a few days

and taken to prison.

Good to see you, darling.

Yes.

I met Nick in 1969.

He turned me

on to Orange Sunshine.

I think this one

might be better.

And I didn't

leave that room for three days.

And I must say, I fell madly

in love with that person

and what he was.

Was Nick very handsome?

Yes.

He was different than he is now.

What

do you mean, was?

What is this negative sh*t?

He still is.

I was a part

of this psychedelic revolution.

He knew that he could

count on me,

to help him in any way

that was needed.

We knew that we had

to get out of there.

Ah, here we go.

When they

lowered Nick Sand's bond,

I knew he would run and he did.

And I said,

watch your rear view mirror.

If you see any cars pulling

out behind of us suddenly,

we've got a tail.

Lo and behold, there

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