I was not welcome at Hostel Neonate.
Thankfully, this was not a womb with a view. The proprietor, my young, ***** mother, had attempted a swan dive from the staircase of the two story Beantown walkup.  But she failed to stick the landing and I made my debut a month later.  

August 4, 1967, a cataclysmic requiem for the Haight Ashbury dream.  My birth, like that of so many others,  would come to signify the beginning of the end of the counter culture notion of making love, not war.  Free love was no longer free for girls like my mother, and it would never be free for me.  To be continued...