MARIJUANA ENTHUSIASTS PACK DIAG

Poet John Sinclair Returns for 37th Annual Celebration of Cannabis Culture

Even hip-hop music blasting from three-foot speakers couldn't stop
the accordion player. Though most of his lyrics were
incomprehensible, the people who clustered around him on the Diag
could easily understand the chorus.

"Free the weed!" he sang raucously, accompanied by two men on
miniature guitars.

The trio stopped its music only when John Sinclair, a bearded man
wearing an old jacket, Birkenstocks and high white socks stepped
before a microphone on the steps of the Harlan Hatcher Graduate Library.

The poet and musician was one reason almost 2,000 people packed onto
the Diag Saturday for the 37th annual Hash Bash.

It was Sinclair's arrest in 1969 that brought together John Lennon,
Allen Ginsberg and Stevie Wonder, among others, at the 1971 "Free
John Now Rally" at Crisler Arena. For many, Sinclair's return was a
highlight of the event.

"I think it's really cool that he's here," LSA sophomore Patrick Morris said.

Saturday's warmth and sunshine brought out people of all ages in
greater numbers than last year, when snow flurries fell on the rally.
Hash Bashers ranged from a man dressed as Uncle Sam holding an
enormous cardboard cutout of a marijuana leaf to a little girl who
sat on her father's shoulders waving to Sinclair as he spoke.

Sinclair's appearance was a relief to Hash Bash organizers, who
thought until a few weeks ago they might not have access to
amplification because an unknown student group had reserved the
entire Diag. Organizers said the University's refusal to disclose
which group had reserved the space was an effort to push Hash Bash
off campus, while Diag Administrator Jaden Felix said it was against
University's to release information about Diag reservations.

About a week ago, they discovered through Facebook.com that Fighting
Obstacles Knowing Ultimate Success, a multicultural arts
organization, was planning its year-end event for Saturday, said Adam
Brook, the longtime Hash Bash emcee. He said members of the
University chapter of the National Organization for the Reform of
Marijuana Laws tried to contact the organizers but received no response.

F.O.K.U.S. co-founder Alma Davila-Toro, a recent University alum,
said she read about Hash Bash's scheduling problems last week and
decided that letting Sinclair speak was the best way to ensure that
both crowds were pleased with their respective events.

Because of the scheduling conflict, only F.O.K.U.S. had the right to
use the amplification. That problem was solved, though, when
Davila-Toro included two of Hash Bash's main speakers into her group's lineup.

Asked how the two groups coordinated the effort, Davila-Toro smiled.

"We invited an artist named John Sinclair to read poetry," she said.

Brook, who introduced Sinclair at the event, was quick to thank
F.O.K.U.S. for the invitation.

"F.O.K.U.S. has done nothing but help us," he told the crowd. "It's
the University that has tried to screw Hash Bash."

Sinclair began his speech by thanking the group for "resolving a
sticky situation." He then spoke for about 10 minutes on the merits
of cannabis use before reading a poem that sang the praises of the
weed he enjoyed during a visit to Amsterdam, where the 66-year-old
currently resides.

To allow F.O.K.U.S. to continue its program, Brook directed the Hash
Bashers to Monroe Street at about 12:30 p.m., where the second part
of their event traditionally takes place.

Most of the crowd dissipated in a few minutes, leaving about 100
people on the Diag as a band took over for Sinclair.

Another band started playing in a portable band shell erected in the
street in front of the restaurant Dominick's near the Law Quad.
Nearby, vendors hawked Hash Bash T-shirts and drug paraphernalia.

Police cars blocked off the ends of the street, leaving it to a crowd
of people who openly smoked marijuana. On the grass across the
street, a drum circle competed against the band, while women in
earth-tone dresses gyrated in hula hoops.

Young men in loose white robes and cross-trainers later joined the
drummers, chanting and dancing. One wore a red jacket that read,
"Chant Hare Krishna and be happy."

Bhakta Joseph, a University alum, came to the event on behalf of his
temple and distributed Hare Krishna literature to Hash Bashers. He
said the devotees came to the event because they saw "a lot of
wonderful people here doing a lot of wonderful things."

"We're here not only to enjoy the atmosphere, but to educate people
on how to, for lack of better words, stay high," he said.