I was home on leave from the Marines. I had just finished infantry training at Camp Pendleton and was looking for a good time. I called up a buddy of mine that was home on leave with me; we met on day one at the induction center at Fort Wayne and had gone through San Diego and Pendleton together.

He lived on Poe St. near Ford Hospital, which was a different world from where I grew up on the NE side near Denby. When I picked him up in my father's car, he was surprised that I was wearing my forrest green Marine uniform. He wore civies saying he didn't wanted to be hassled by hippies.

I figured wearing my uniform might help in getting some ass and grass. My buddy thought I was crazy when I went up to hippie chicks and asked if they had any grass. None of the gals seemed to mind my approaching them for weed. A few wanted to know about my uniform and one gal asked if she could buy my blouse [[what Marines call their uniform coat; sort of whack, aye?)

We took in the Plum Street scene near where the Lodge Freeway goes under Bagley in downtown Detroit. We stuck our heads in a few of the head shops and coffee houses and sat down in one coffee house and asked for beer. No beer, we were told. Coffee, tea, or herbal tea only. We were under 21 and without fake ID, so it didn't matter that the place was dry.

No one hassled us on Plum Street. If anything, my uniform drew some attention and a bit of sympathy when I mentioned that we were shipping out for Vietnam in a few weeks. Never did get any ass or grass on Plum Street. The hippie chicks seemed exotic to me as did the smell of incense mixed with coffee aroma. I thought about going back to Plum Street in civies but never did.

In Dec 68 when I returned to Detroit from VN, I was 19 but had military ID that said I was 21, thanks to fella in a S-1 office who I told that I lost my ID card in the field in VN [[which was true). He never bothered to check my service record when I was rotating back to the states, so I had my underage drinking pass on hand when I returned home.

By Christmas '68, several folks said while I was home on leave that Plum Street was nowheresville, on its last leg. An online search on Plum Street says it had 43 businesses at its height--head shops, coffee houses, assorted retail stores--but by 1969 only about ten remained.

Some years later, I was in a head shop when I spotted a .50 caliber round fashioned into a hashish pipe. It did get some use, but the fifty-cal round served largely as a conversation piece for me. When asked where I got it, I sometimes said on Plum Street just to see if they had been there.

Today, Plum Street is just parking lots, and empty ones at that, so I noticed the last time I was back in town. If anyone has photos of Plum Street, especially ones that show people walking around outside, I could dig seeing them.

Curious if any other vets walked around Plum Street in their uniform...