Maggie May/Liz

Years ago, back in the early '70's, Keith & I met a girl I always associate with the song "Maggie May". I think of her every time I hear Rod Stewart's song:

"Wake up Maggie I think I got something to say to you.
Its late September and I really should be back at school.
I know I keep you amused but I feel Im being used.
Oh Maggie I couldnt have tried any more.
You lured me away from home just to save you from being alone.
You stole my heart and thats what really hurt.
The morning sun when its in your face really shows your age
But that dont worry me none, in my eyes you're everything."

I heard it today on the car radio.
"Maggie May" was popular then & Liz, her real name, was like no other person I had, or have, ever met!

After we moved to Stone Ridge, NY, in 1969, a coffeehouse was opened in the tiny village, located in the back of a large white historic church, Rondout Valley UMC. We attended Rondout Valley where we volunteered as youth counselors--actually the pastor drafted us as soon as we arrived since we were the youngest adults in the congregation. Keith & I grew to love those kids like family:)

The Stone Ridge JayCee's sponsored the coffeehouse held each Friday night and church folks helped as well, even our youth group. It was offered as a place for the young people to congregate since it was a rural area (Kingston was 10 miles away). I recall one of the JayCee's, Larry Lohman, a policeman in Kingston, would always be around every time the coffeehouse doors opened, ready to talk with any of the young people that dropped in. A friendly, jovial fella.

Some of the sponsors would go into Kingston each Friday afternoon and collect day-old donuts from Dunkin' Donuts which were then served that evening along with coffee, soft drinks, etc.--all free. I can vividly recall Keith and I doing the donut "run":) Maybe I remember so well because we did it often; maybe because I was just tickled to get into town!!

Liz dropped in.
She liked the coffeehouse:)
She was the most unlikely friend I'd ever make, but we became friends. She was a pothead who lived with other potheads in an abandoned house in the woods close to town. She never smoked in front of me, but even as naive as I was, I knew she did. (I didn't know where she lived for a long time, but found out eventually, and the conditions horrified me; just nasty!)
SUNY at New Paltz was not far (where I was attending), as well as Ulster County Community College, so maybe originally she came to the Stone Ridge area to go to school. Or, maybe she traveled to Woodstock and never found her way home again.

Liz had long tangled, unkept, brown hair, was terribly thin since she seldom had a real meal, looked older than her years, and her teeth were beginning to deteriorate--most likely because of drugs and lack of nutrition. She didn't have a job and didn't attend college, seemingly someone's throw away daughter.
Sad.

If she didn't come to the coffeehouse one Friday night, we'd worry about her.
Larry would try to find her.
I can't remember which happened first; if she finally quit coming and we couldn't track her down, or we moved away. To this day, I wonder what became of her. I wish I remembered her last name. Keith can't recall it either:(
The years have robbed us of details.

I pray we gave her at least one bit of encouragement, one place that people cared for her, one hint that life mattered.
Liz, I remember you.