Smith, David Emerson

My memories of David Emerson go back to Boston in 1974-76. We both lived on Beacon Hill on the counter-culture slope. I lived on Myrtle St., he lived on Revere St.(I think that is the name) and we could see each other from our apartments. I remember his brotherly arm around me when I woke up, the nights and mornings hanging out with good smoke, his poetry and conversation, while it snowed outside. and enduring humid summer nites, drinking beer in our gym shorts. He had an affectionate, unpretentious soul, and a rebel, brotherhood heart. He is not forgotten.