Happy Hippies in Eureka, California

Welcome to Eureka

The town is Eureka. And if you love a good double entendre, try this: “Oh, Eureka! I’ve never seen so much tie-dye in my life.” If you didn’t laugh, then you’re not a fan of good dad jokes. That’s OK; I get it.

Anyways, back to Eureka the town. As a child I was lucky enough to experience this town when it was still in its truly undiscovered state of hippy-ness. I can remember rolling into town after driving the roughly eight hours it took to get from Portland, Oregon down to the coastal Northern California town to visit my grandma.

My grandma, who was raised in a blue collar family, had a home right in the middle of Eureka’s inner neighborhood. Her home was meditatively placed on the dead end of a street shaded by a canopy of spruce trees. Her small backyard was peppered with flowers, spices and herbs growing from the land, as most were in Eureka.

The town was filled with people who were adamant that growing your food from the soil was a social responsibility that they owed the earth. Like being a Pantheist, without having to submit to all the spiritualties that go along with it.

Ellin Beltz / Own Work