My devotees derive great satisfaction and bliss enlightening
one another and conversing about me.
—SRI KRISHNA IN THE BHAGAVAD GITA, 10.9
MUKUNDA AND JANAKI DECIDED the time had come to see India. Meeting the Swami, getting married, taking initiation—events, they agreed, pointed in the direction of a visit to Krishna’s homeland. When they told the Swami their plans, he was concerned. India tended to play havoc on naïve foreigners. Would they fall prey to mayavadi philosophies and come back thinking they were God? With ganja (marijuana) so easily available, would they go back to old habits? His affection for them was palpable, and Mukunda, not knowing how else to say goodbye, mentioned that they would be driving to California before flying to India. California, Mukunda said, would be a good place to open a temple.
“There’s lots of interest in India and spirituality in that part of the country,” he said. Then he bowed to his teacher and turned to leave.
“Mukunda,” the Swami said. “Just see if you can start one center in California. It would be a very great service.” It was not the farewell Mukunda had planned.
“Okay,” he mumbled, wondering what he had gotten himself into. Had he remembered that the Swami received a similar instruction almost fifty years before from his guru, he might have recognized the message: “Go West. Spread Krishna consciousness. It will be a very great service.”
When Mukunda returned home, Janaki had their bags and their cat ready to go. They loaded them into a rented station wagon and drove out of New York, chanting in the warm autumn breeze. Four days later they crossed into Oregon and arrived at the tiny city of Sisters, population 250, where Mukunda’s college buddy, Sam Speerstra, lived with his girlfriend, Melanie, on a wooded hilltop. All four had attended Reed College and kept in touch after graduating. Mukunda and Janaki described their recent initiation into Krishna consciousness and the Swami’s encouragement to open a Krishna temple in California.
The proposal came at a moment of transition for the Oregon couple. Sam and Melanie had been reading Autobiography of a Yogi and felt themselves drawn to spiritual journeys. Sam’s job as a fire-spotter in Deschutes National Forest for the U.S. Forest Service was about to end, and he and Melanie had no firm plans for what do to next. They sensed an adventure in Mukunda’s proposal and offered to help. Mukunda and Janaki cashed in their tickets to India, and the four set out for San Francisco.
In November 1966, they arrived in Haight-Ashbury, the epicenter of hippie culture. They were joined by Roger Siegel, who been an organizer in the South for Dr. Martin Luther King’s freedom marches. The group formed a smoothly functioning team, with their sights set on opening a Krishna temple. Roger and his girlfriend, Jan Campanella’s sister, Joan, suggested they organize a benefit concert and invite Allen Ginsberg as special guest.
The group put the plan in motion. Sam had contacts in the music world and convinced the Grateful Dead and Big Brother and the Holding Company to participate. Mukunda reserved the Avalon Ballroom, where a number of local groups such as Quicksilver Messenger Service and the Steve Miller Band had had their start. Friends from the area pitched in and blanketed San Francisco with thousands of psychedelic posters and flyers announcing the upcoming Mantra-Rock benefit concert. The group sent the Swami a ticket for his first airplane ride: New York to San Francisco.
Meanwhile, Mukunda found a ground-floor store for rent on Frederick Street not far from Kezar Stadium, home of the San Francisco 49ers football team. The storefront was like the one he had found for the Swami in New York, but with a bigger plate-glass window. The landlord also showed him two apartments on the fourth floor of a nearby building. Mukunda rented everything that same day. Krishna, he prayed, would figure out the financing.