John Ash

By John Ash, a Hungry Witness of 1967, BERKELEY—Somewhere in the folds of 1967, just past the soft bend where Telegraph Avenue exhaled...

At 8:15 a.m. on a fog-cloaked July morning, John crested the sand dune that separated the old Navy road from the patient, murmuring...

The dance studio is empty. Or at least, it appears that way. The long mirrors on the far wall seem to hold their breath, waiting for a...