I used to cook dinner for Phil when he was on the streets in his Luke Train phase. He would come by my loft at 124 W. Houston St. and I'd strip him and stick him in the shower and get him clean and then I would feed him. One time I roasted a chicken and he ate the whole thing. He'd sit there in my loft at my dining room table spinning all of these wild conspiracies he saw everywhere around him. Sometimes he would just get up and go. A few times he racked out in my spare bedroom for a few hours. A sad, sad time. I had him over for Thanksgiving dinner a couple of times when he was well. A great guy. One time I invited Phil, and he came. And then Maurice, the old gray haired street guy who sold Voices on the street (whom I invited every year) walked in with Odetta on his arm. What a night.
I miss Phil Ochs. His songs hold up so well after all of these years as history repeats itself.
I used to cook dinner for Phil when he was on the streets in his Luke Train phase. He would come by my loft at 124 W. Houston St. and I'd strip him and stick him in the shower and get him clean and then I would feed him. One time I roasted a chicken and he ate the whole thing. He'd sit there in my loft at my dining room table spinning all of these wild conspiracies he saw everywhere around him. Sometimes he would just get up and go. A few times he racked out in my spare bedroom for a few hours. A sad, sad time. I had him over for Thanksgiving dinner a couple of times when he was well. A great guy. One time I invited Phil, and he came. And then Maurice, the old gray haired street guy who sold Voices on the street (whom I invited every year) walked in with Odetta on his arm. What a night.