Haight-Ashbury was the
epicenter of the new world.
All the way down either street, the street signs had long been removed when I arrived in San Francisco in August, 1967.
Large, Victorian style houses made ideal locations for group living experiments. And experiments in Love--in much of the poster art of the time, grown out of advertising for music concerts, Haight was replaced by its apparant opposite Love.
At the time, Jefferson Starship was still known as Jefferson Airplane. We still lived in the atmosphere.
I remember the funeral of the word hippie following the Summer of Love. A procession down Haight Street of an open coffin, bearing a pair of sandals, love beads, and a couple of joints.
Not on the word-of-mouth or poster communication systems, I watched it on the local TV news.