Article January 18, 1975 Issue

A Zigzag Course

DAVID FOWLER

I was sixteen. Really looking for something to get my teeth into. At that time the Christian Science Sunday School didn't do it for me. I hated having to fake it at church—the smiles, and the "how are you's—I'm fine's." Feeling like a hypocrite, I dropped it. The Sunday School teachers tried hard, but God seemed too far away.

I wanted to bring God up close, make Him touchable. I didn't know I would dry up so many streams in the process. First, to be one of the guys, I drank alcohol. No enlightenment in that, only hangovers. A couple of years later I was living on my own. The excitement of the hippie movement caused me to feel like a new bird coming out of his shell. I consumed a wide assortment of drugs in the hope that they would guide me to God.

My early interests in music led me to play drums in a successful rock group. We played concerts with "The Grateful Dead," "Jefferson Airplane," and "The Sons of Champlin." For me, the band was the center of the universe. We had money. All the drugs we wanted. New girls every night. But still the only god I found could be characterized in two words: "Me first."

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Article

Imperishable Substance