The author expresses nostalgia for a vibrant street atmosphere where people interacted and shared flowers, reflecting on a time when they enjoyed simple pleasures like penny candies, oblivious to any lurking darkness.

Growing up in the San Fernando Valley during the 1960s was wild. All the corner streets were filled with hitchhiking youths. Carrying incense and their innocence. Topanga Canyon was a way to the beach. They moved towards the Pacific Coast Highway.

As a kid I would walk down to Gary’s Market on the corner of Dumetz and Topanga Canyon. My friends and I purchased penny candies. We also got bakery goods. We would sit and eat. We gazed at the craziness.

Now I often take a drive to Box Canyon. That place where the Manson Family once lived. I love writing about this place and that time. It seems to be a place that has not been touched by time. It still feels and smells like the late sixties and early seventies.

As kids we walked or rode our bikes there. Not as many cars back then, made the ride or walk easy. There were trees to climb and plenty of friends. We felt safe. Gone for hours at a time! Funny, my parents never seemed to worry about us.

It was not until after the Manson trial that I learned to fear the wild places of my youth. Yet smoking pot would always highlight this paranoia.

Charles Manson is dead. The creepy crawl is not over though. Today I will take a drive-up and down Box Canyon. With freedom there is always danger lurking about. Those corner streets filled with hippies were not so innocent as I thought they were. As I once was.