Straight Life - Art Pepper [252]
Then something happened that turned everything around. There was an old guy in Synanon, Reid Kimball, a close friend of Chuck's, and he was dying of emphysema. He had to stop smoking. The doctors told Chuck that he should stop, too, but he couldn't. So all the kids in Tomales Bay, the fanatical followers, they got together with Chuck and said, "To help you stop we're going to stop smoking."
At first it was a voluntary thing. Then rumors started going around. Finally, one night a general meeting was called in the ballroom. I remember it was mobbed. I had a hard time finding a place for Laurie to sit. She sat down on a little rampway; I stood next to her, watching Jack, who was about to speak, and I had a strange premonition. I hadn't been so scared for a long time. Jack started talking about Reid and Chuck: "The founder has to stop smoking because he is also developing a lung condition." He went on to talk about how much things cost us, how we could get everything donated except cigarettes. Cigarettes was our biggest expense. "The kids in Tomales Bay have already stopped smoking. What do you say?"
It didn't stay voluntary long. Soon another general meeting was called and Chuck appeared in person and told us that smoking cigarettes would henceforth be as forbidden as the use of drugs and physical violence. After that meeting I went back to my dorm and took all my cigarettes and stashed them-in trash cans, under plants, all over. For a while it was an honor thing. People were supposed to turn in all their cigarettes, but you could still smell smoke in the air. Then they went through one of those crash-break-'em-down searches. Pretty soon almost everybody had stopped.
There were two bathrooms in my dorm. Next to my room was a little toilet and sink, and there was a fan over the toilet in the roof. You could turn the fan on, stand on the toilet, and the fan would suck the smoke out. I went in there every morning. I could hardly wait to get in there. We were put on restriction at that time, containment they called it, no walking, but I'd sneak away from the Clump and smoke at Santa Monica City College. In Santa Monica they have police helicopters that fly around. I got so panicked after sneaking around for a while that I was sure that the police helicopter was watching me at Santa Monica City College or wherever I was. I thought sure they knew I was in Synanon and that I was smoking and they were going to land and grab me. One of my duties on my job was to take the mail by car to the post office. I'd wrap two cigarettes in cellophane with a rubber band around them and stash them in my sock. I'd have a book of matches in my pocket. I carried gum and mouthwash and cologne. I smoked in the bathroom of the guestroom, and one time I was kissing Laurie and she started sniffing. She stuck her nose into my mouth. She said, "You've been smoking! You've been smoking!" She had her whole nose and half her head in my mouth: "You've been smoking!"
I couldn't stop smoking. People were turning in their husbands and wives. Guys were getting bald heads, losing their positions. I smoked like this for over a year and a half, every day. That's why I finally had to leave.
After I'd been in Synanon for about three years I knew I was as healthy as I was ever going to get, and I had to make a decision about what I was going to do next. I couldn't stay in Synanon and become a lifetime member. It was just a stopping-off place to straighten myself out before trying the world again. I wanted to play. The main thing was, I wanted to be free. I wanted to walk when I wanted to walk, smoke when I wanted to smoke; if I wanted to get loaded occasionally, I wanted to be able to do that. I'd stayed as long as I had because of Laurie. The thought of leaving her ... it was terrible. I couldn't imagine being without her, and I knew she'd never leave with me.
It was getting toward Christmas. That's always