1967 Year

Forget the sun. Forget the North Pole. For one brief summer back in 1967, the world revolved around the intersection of Haight and Ashbury streets in San Francisco, the Hollywood and Vine of Hippiedom. It was the Summer of Love, a time when youth flowed to San Francisco hoping to remake the world with flowers, innocence and LSD. Much has changed since the "turn on, tune in and drop out" counterculture burst into the public consciousness 20 summers ago.

Before the University of Houston's first appearance in an NCAA Final Four in 1967, its players were sitting in a hotel ballroom in Louisville, Ky., when they found themselves in the middle of a chaotic scene. Camera lights flashed, reporters shouted questions and fans begged for autographs as college basketball's greatest player, Lew Alcindor, hidden behind dark glasses, and the rest of the UCLA team entered the room like so many rock stars. "Do they have to pay these guys?"

"Yeah, brother! What's happening?" It is Jimi Hendrix, high and giddy on the Monterey Pop Festival stage. It is June 1967, long enough ago for the concert film to have become part of pop culture's endless reel. There's Jimi, nervous, 24 years old, throaty-voiced, hair wild even for the time. You know the lasting image: Hendrix on his knees, summoning fire from a flaming Stratocaster guitar. He was one of the last acts of a three-day show.

Thirty years on, they still come. Pilgrims on a journey to the heartland of a dream. Young or old, it doesn't matter. People of all ages and from every place on Earth keep arriving to gaze upon the edifices of an era, wondering about the magic that happened inside, feeling the spirit that lingers. A romanticized version of the Summer of Love still rings true to a lot of people.

Twilight was never Dean Chance's favorite time. In the early years of the Angels, he and Bo Belinsky, who combined to cut a swath wider than the Sunset Strip, were at their best when the night was darkest and the neons were brightest.

On a velvety-warm Saturday recently at the corner of a couple of streets named Haight and Ashbury, someone had shinnied up a signpost and done what someone had probably done every weekend for 20 years. Over the metal sign that read "Haight," this particular somebody had taped a paper rectangle that read, predictably, "Love." A generation ago the Summer of Love was radiating psychedelic images of peace, love, drugs, sex and rock 'n' roll from the counterculture's epicenter.

When I think back on the 1967 "Summer of Love" it's amazing it could even be called that. The first generation raised on television and rock 'n' roll came of age that summer and there was much for them to be negative about. John F. Kennedy had been assassinated only 3 1/2 years before. A huge U.S. military buildup was underway in Vietnam. The antiwar movement was roaring. Martin Luther King Jr. urged massive civil disobedience and Stokely Carmichael was calling for a black revolution.

Thirty years on, they still come. Pilgrims on a journey to the heartland of a dream. Young or old, it doesn't matter. People of all ages and from every place on Earth keep arriving to gaze upon the edifices of an era, wondering about the magic that happened inside, feeling the spirit that lingers. A romanticized version of the Summer of Love still rings true to a lot of people.

Before the University of Houston's first appearance in an NCAA Final Four in 1967, its players were sitting in a hotel ballroom in Louisville, Ky., when they found themselves in the middle of a chaotic scene. Camera lights flashed, reporters shouted questions and fans begged for autographs as college basketball's greatest player, Lew Alcindor, hidden behind dark glasses, and the rest of the UCLA team entered the room like so many rock stars. "Do they have to pay these guys?"

William "Will" Schutz, a psychologist and pioneer of the human potential movement, died Nov. 9 at his home in Muir Beach, Calif. He was 81, and suffered a cerebral hemorrhage. As a faculty member of the Esalen Institute in Big Sur starting in 1967, Schutz led group encounter sessions that urged complete openness and honesty.

When I think back on the 1967 "Summer of Love" it's amazing it could even be called that. The first generation raised on television and rock 'n' roll came of age that summer and there was much for them to be negative about. John F. Kennedy had been assassinated only 3 1/2 years before. A huge U.S. military buildup was underway in Vietnam. The antiwar movement was roaring. Martin Luther King Jr. urged massive civil disobedience and Stokely Carmichael was calling for a black revolution.

"Yeah, brother! What's happening?" It is Jimi Hendrix, high and giddy on the Monterey Pop Festival stage. It is June 1967, long enough ago for the concert film to have become part of pop culture's endless reel. There's Jimi, nervous, 24 years old, throaty-voiced, hair wild even for the time. You know the lasting image: Hendrix on his knees, summoning fire from a flaming Stratocaster guitar. He was one of the last acts of a three-day show.

Twilight was never Dean Chance's favorite time. In the early years of the Angels, he and Bo Belinsky, who combined to cut a swath wider than the Sunset Strip, were at their best when the night was darkest and the neons were brightest.

On a velvety-warm Saturday recently at the corner of a couple of streets named Haight and Ashbury, someone had shinnied up a signpost and done what someone had probably done every weekend for 20 years. Over the metal sign that read "Haight," this particular somebody had taped a paper rectangle that read, predictably, "Love." A generation ago the Summer of Love was radiating psychedelic images of peace, love, drugs, sex and rock 'n' roll from the counterculture's epicenter.

Forget the sun. Forget the North Pole. For one brief summer back in 1967, the world revolved around the intersection of Haight and Ashbury streets in San Francisco, the Hollywood and Vine of Hippiedom. It was the Summer of Love, a time when youth flowed to San Francisco hoping to remake the world with flowers, innocence and LSD. Much has changed since the "turn on, tune in and drop out" counterculture burst into the public consciousness 20 summers ago.

This custom contemporary in Naples was taken down to the studs and remodeled five years ago. The three-level house features two 80-foot boat docks and views of Santa Catalina Island. Location: 5472 E. The Toledo, Long Beach 90803 Asking price: $6.75 million Year built: 1967 Year remodeled: 2008 Remodel architect: Kollin Altomare Architects House size: Five bedrooms, 41/2 bathrooms, 4,418 square feet Lot size: 4,200 square feet Features: Grand foyer, circular staircase, temperature-controlled wine cellar for 1,200 bottles, office/study, bar, stainless-steel-and-glass elevator, waterfront patio with built-in barbecue and fire pit, three-car garage.

Super Bowl XVI in 1982 was watched by more people than any other championship football game. Top 10 Super Bowls from 1967, the year of the first Super Bowl, to 1995, ranked by average audience percentage: *--* Rank Program Ntwk. Air date Aud. 1 Super Bowl XVI CBS Jan. 1982 49.1 2 Super Bowl XVII NBC Jan. 1983 48.6 3 Super Bowl XX NBC Jan. 1986 48.3 4 Super Bowl XII CBS Jan. 1978 47.2 5 Super Bowl XIII NBC Jan. 1979 47.1 6 Super Bowl XVIII CBS Jan. 1984 46.4 Tie Super Bowl XIX ABC Jan. 1985 46.