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In the freezing cold of the dead of winter, people called Naked Launch gathered with an old friend from the Bronx, Camel Jack Crow. Jack’s life was a bohemian existence, with a Hippie lifestyle in sight. We spent our days canoeing and our nights camping by the river. Despite the squalid ugliness surrounding us, we felt a sense of restlessness and a longing for something more. We slept in an old tent, lacking the funds for rent, and fished while we slept, hoping to catch a breakfast at dawn. Suddenly, we were awakened by a series of extremely bright colored lights. The lights, shining from above our tent, cast yellows, blues, reds, and greens across our faces, startling us awake. Jack believed the lights were too bright for the police, and I agreed, adding that if it were the police, they would likely yell at us to get out of the tent.