At least one Oregon community happily bridged the gap

between rural and urban settings. The Rainbow Family, by 1971 a

well-established commune, owned a house in Eugene and a farm

several hours away near Drain.7 The community found a unique way

to supplement its conventional sources of income. In addition to

their successful garden and outside employment, the Eugene house

sponsored teenage runaways and delinquents. The arrangement was

approved by the county, although many thought that a commune

was the last place a misguided child should be. However, the

commune's unofficial leader, Harold Williams, felt that the Rainbow

Family gave something to the kids that traditional foster care didn't:

"Kids living here learn the responsibilities they have for themselves

and others. They are given adult status. ,,8

The urban cousins of Oregon's rural communes also believed

they could create a more harmonious, less capitalistic lifestyle. To

many critics within the movement, however, the urban commune

was only the first step towards full rural communalism. After all,

6Fellowship for Intentional Community, Directory of Intentional

Communities (Evansville, Indiana: Fellowship for Intentional Community,

1993), p 212.

7The Rainbow Family commune referred to here should not be confused

with the counterculture's annual Rainbow Family Gathering, though the

two may be related.

8Bill Keller, "Children Mature in Rainbow Family." The Oregonian

(Portland, Oregon), November 28, 1971.

20

complete escape from America's oppressive system was nearly

impossible while one was assaulted by it daily. Many rural hippies

questioned the ability of urban communalists to attack the system

while they shopped at corporate-owned supermarkets or held jobs.

Urban communities, such as Eugene's Yellow Submarine, were

forced by their more compact environment to employ different

methods to sustain and improve themselves. In many ways, urban

communes faced a greater task. More vagrants and drifters were

likely to pass through communities in Eugene, Portland, or other

cities, and constant visitors could create constant disturbances.

Another disadvantage urban communes dealt with was that their

meager back yard plots could not possibly produce the nourishing

vegetables that sprouted III rural farms. Finally, urban

communalists, no strangers to drug experimentation, were subject to

tougher law enforcement from city police than their rural comrades.

On the other hand, members of urban communes were frequently

more able to find work. Yellow Submarine's members found jobs at

a local food cooperative, Eugene's alternative to the grocery store,

and in this way were able to survive in the city without submitting

to the system. 9

During the late 1960s, while the counterculture rebelled

urgently against the country's decaying system, one segment of the

urban communal world embraced a fundamentally American

institution: Christianity. The resulting religion was called the Jesus

movement. To hippies and mainstream folk alike, the conversion of

9Kay Teeters, Communal Utopias of the Pacific Northwest (Eugene, Oregon:

University of Oregon Honors College Thesis) p41.

21

many young communalists seemed an odd development. After all,

church represented everything the counterculture didn't: Western

tradition, structure, formality, and hierarchy. However, the Jesus

movement offered a new spiritual purpose that transcended the

emotional turmoil of the counterculture. The movement's leaders

gave hope and an energetic work ethic to young drifters disoriented

and depressed by drugs. But many members of the Jesus movement

retained their laid-back, anti-establishment stance and

counterculture appearance. Christianity and the counterculture

combined and flourished in Oregon, and across the country. 10

The Jesus movement's largest and longest-lasting intentional

community in Oregon was Shiloh Youth Revival Center. The

community began in Southern California, then moved to Dexter,

Oregon in 1969. There, they hoped to lead a Christian life of good

works that had become increasingly difficult in their former urban

home. Shiloh's structure was modeled around early Christianity's

nearly complete communal sharing and simple living standard. Due

to their spiritual inspiration and remarkable industriousness, the

community grew rapidly and soon owned a spacious farm which

served as a retreat and spiritual focal point; hundreds of acres of

orchards and farmland; offices, a worship center, and meeting hall III

Eugene; and even communal houses in other towns in Oregon. Shiloh

and the Jesus movement in general soon came under severe attack

for their fundamentalist dogma and practice of recruiting confused

adolescents from communes--which combined were labeled

lOJames T. Richardson, et aI., Organized Miracles, (New Bruswick, NJ:

Transaction Books, 1979) p. 5-20.

22

"brainwashing" by the media and public. Despite the community's

early success, the group collapsed in the middle '70s after a

leadership dispute. 11

Shiloh may have been Oregon's most extreme Christian

intentional community, but many others accepted the faith to

different degrees. Living Springs was a small fundamentalist

community similar to Shiloh where a dedicated, religious farmer

guided a band of former hippies. The nearby Family of Mystic Arts

in Sunny Valley had taken on elements of Christianity but, while its

members debated the Bible with visitors at the commune, they still

looked for all the world like rural counterculture communalists:

Their dress (what there was of it), their manner, their hair all reflected

this new life style, yet they seemed as fanatically committed to Jesus as

any of their more conservative, straight-type brethren.... It was a mindblowing scene. Four uptight, tight-lipped, straightlaced, well-groomed,

conventionally dressed, knit-browned Oregon Okies talking with two

dusty clothed, freaky hatted, longhaired, land-loving, out-of-sight

Christian hippies. 12

Beyond the fringes of the counterculture, far from the shock

waves caused by the Jesus movement, many Americans lived III

middle-class stability and security. But even their lives were not

untouched by the social and political turmoil that shook the 1960s.

Across the country, middle-class citizens who dared not join Vietnam

protesters III youth rallies and marches agreed with many of the

principles of the student movement. They were troubled by the

llMarion Goldman, personal interview. Note: the surviving papers of

Shiloh--a large collection--are in the Oregon Collection department of the

Knight Library, but pending processing,. are not generally open for

research.

12Richard Fairfield, Communes U.S.A.: A Personal Tour (Baltimore, MD:

Penguin Books Inc., 1972) p.1OS.

23

immoral war, racial inequality, and the government's apparent

indifference. But dissatisfaction, writes Ron E. Roberts in The New

Communes,

is not enough to motivate an individual to throwaway the security of

the bourgeois life-style, however. Middle-aged Americans watch

communal ventures with a jaundiced eye. They know a commune many

be nothing more than a pleasant interlude in the life of a post-highschool nineteen-year-old. 13

Because they seriously doubted the long-term reliability of the

commune movement, white collar dissenters looked for other

possibilities. Some found that participating m cooperative

businesses, such as groceries, allowed them to withdraw from the

capitalist economic system. Through discussion and encounter

groups they could discuss new social and personal options. Some few

typical citizens felt the need to remove themselves from mainstream

America, join an intentional community, and lead a life more in tune

with their values.

The Cerro Gordo community, billed as an "eco-village" near

Cottage Grove, attracted the attention of many middle-class

individuals and families as its planning began in 1971. The goal of

the community, then as now, was, "to have a small pedestrian village,

a lodge and conference area, houses gathered into clusters, and small

businesses, all set in less than 200 acres, preservmg over 1000 acres

of forest, meadows and streams." 14 Cerro Gordo has actively fought

the term "commune" and its connotations. This establishment, its

l3Ron E. Roberts, The New Communes

Inc., 1971) p. 100.

14Cerro Gordo World Wide Web page.

the community's goals have remained

(I;:nglewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall,

Though the page was posted recently,

constant since its inception.

24

planners said, would be a well-structured, economically selfsupporting village for families, not to be confused with a subsistencelevel counterculture refuge. Farming, small internal businesses, and

outside work would all play a part in the vibrant community. The

group's members would share some costs, but not all income. Cerro

Gordo's founders were still planning the village in 1974, well after

the energetic apex of the communal movement, and planners could

see from the past what approaches would work for a new breed of

middle-class communalists.

Unfortunately, early visions of Cerro Gordo have never been

realized. At the settlement's peak, some 100 members lived on the

land or in nearby Cottage Grove; today, about 25 people live on the

site. Current and former members give several reasons for the

community's failure. Perhaps the most troubling are accusations of

financial mismanagement against the community's leaders. Others

blame the county bureaucracy, which halted construction for most of

the seventies. It also seems that the community was too concerned

with designing and imagining their new lifestyle, and not committed

enough to jump in and live it. The Cerro Gordo Town Forum

chronicles years of discussion, not action. Cerro Gordo's failure IS

discouraging because, unlike Oregon's hippie communes, this ecovillage provided a unique blueprint that might have convinced

mainstream America that ecologically sound, community style living

is possible. In this respect, its place in Oregon's communal past is

. 15

umque.

15Cerro Gordo's fortunes continue to decline: as I completed this thesis, the

state attorney filed suit against the community. See The Register-Guard,

6/27/97

25

While Cerro Gordo attempted to transform their communal

dream into a reality in the middle 1970s, another intentional

community inspired by the religious teachings of a Indian mystic

burst into existence. This remarkably impressive planned urban

community, located near Antelope, was called Rajneeshpuram, and

powered by the teachings of the captivating and withdrawn Bhagwan

Shree Rajneesh, the community became home for several hundred

believers. This eastern mystic community was certainly one-of-akind: Rajneesh's largely middle-class following of young urban

professionals was required to make large contributions to the

community, which were then invested in upscale condominiums, an

airport, and the leader's personal collection of Rolls-Royces. 16 In the

1980s, Oregon authorities learned that Rajneesh was not a United

States citizen and forced him to return to India. Rajneeshpuram

ended shortly after. 17

Eastern mysticism, however, was frequently incorporated into

rural communes without totally dominating their ideology. For

example, the sacred Hindu syllable "om" could be heard in communal

meditation ceremonies throughout Oregon. The I Ching often

occupied a hallowed spot on communal bookshelves next to nearholy organic gardening guides. Mysticism had a profound effect on

many communes, because it rejected unbending rules in favor of

personal discoveries. Communalists who had chosen the graceful

contours of Oregon's hills over linear cities appreciated this

acceptance of mystery and unpredictability.

16Rajneeshpuram community. "Bhagwan, the way of the heart."

17Marion Goldman, personal interview.

26

From eastern mysticism to fundamental Christianity, Oregon's

communal pioneers of the late twentieth century were

experimenting--and no two communes combined the new array of

cultural possibilities to produce the same result. While the majority

of intentional communities born in the late 1960s and '70s sprouted

from countercultural roots, other traditions were also involved in the

movement. Even former suburbanites came to Oregon, and a crucifix

began to look natural dangling from a teepee.

The following two chapters detail two of Oregon's intentional

communities: Magic Farm and Alpha Farm. The descriptions go

beyond surface definitions and into the day-to-day workings of each

community. Magic Farm was a relatively typical rural counterculture

commune, while Alpha continues as an enduring community which

grew from a middle-class background. Their similarities and

differences should illuminate some of the more unfamiliar aspects of

communal life: backgrounds, institutional and economic structures,

and social setting.

27

IV

Magic Farm

A Country Commune

In 1970, Elaine Sundancer completed a novel that documented

her personal journey through a year on an Oregon commune. She

called it Celery Wine, and on the title page of one copy, wrote: "I

don't want this book to be assigned as required reading to anyone,

Elaine."!

In many ways, this simple statement represents her

philosophy, and that of her commune, Magic Farm. Most of Magic

Farm's members were well-educated drop-outs from DC Berkeley,

but at some point they all decided that life was better when very

little was assigned or required. An average of one dozen adults

occupied the 17-acre hillside plot, tucked among the creased valleys

of Southern Oregon near Takilmah, from 1968 until 1975. The group

chose to live without schedules or committees; they filled this

organizational vacuum by farming their one-acre garden, meditating,

and exploring their new surroundings with unhurried wonder.

Magic Farm was in many ways a stereotypical American

commune of the 1960s. Most of the residents might be called

hippies, although some at the farm embraced the label while others

rejected it. They had taken refuge from the cities, because there was

something unhealthy and out of kilter in American culture. They

were tired of corrupt politics and the Vietnam War. While some

lElaine Sundancer, Celery Wine. This quotation was a handwritten note by

the author on one novel's title page.

28

reveled in the psychedelic world of marIjuana and LSD, others

preferred the natural high of living and gardening in harmony with

nature. One member wrote this advice to a newcomer: "Take off

your clothes, it feels better. ...Sweat. Stay loose. ,,2

Those who made their home at Magic Farm from the late 1960s

into the '70s were part of the country's first generation of communal

rebirth since the early twentieth century. Magic Farm's founders

became interested in living styles outside the mainstream as

members of a Berkeley, California, discussion group called the

Wednesday Night Group. The group consisted primarily of

University of California at Berkeley sociology students, and as 1968

wore on, they became less interested in talking about communes and

more serious about living in one. While some desperately needed an

escape from the pressures and hassles of ,·American society, others

were very hesitant to abandon the culture they were so comfortable

with in favor of the unknowns of communal living.

For most of the Magic Farm family, immigration to Southern

Oregon was personal more than political. The Wednesday Night

Group's members just took to each other and found something

calming, inspiring and beautiful in nature. Though some were

heavily involved in Berkeley's turbulent 1960s political movement,

their opinions did not seem to be the prime motive for dropping out

of mainstream society and moving to Magic Farm.

But the fact that there were so few rules, or even routines that

could be relied upon from month to month, reveals much about

2Sundancer, Celery Wine (Yellow Springs, Ohio: Community Publications

Cooperative, 1973) p. 142.

29

Magic Farm's nature. A distaste for rules and control, and the faith

that given time things would work themselves out, combined to

create an unpredictable and unbounded community. Members came

and went, and as they did, work projects were taken on or discarded,

new ideas introduced, and the farm's character evolved. Magic Farm

had very few requirements or expectations: no membership

donation, no standard work hours, and infrequent meetings. For

many, the freedom from restrictions and duties was invigorating.

But for others, the uncertainty that resulted from the absence of

structure was annoymg.

As the fervor of late 1960s counter-culture gave way to the

apathy of the 70s, so Magic Farm's good fortune slowly dwindled.

According to one observer the farm had no definite end, but instead,

"a long twilight period. ,,3 The community was still living happily in

1973, but the group's notoriety proved to be its downfall. The area

around Magic Farm, including the towns of Takilmah and Cave

Junction, had long been known as a safe haven for hippies and

members of the Jesus movement. By the middle '70s the area had

passed its saturation point: many other communes had joined Magic

Farm in the area, which only attracted more newcomers. Commune

researcher Hugh Gardner wrote that

by 1973 the more or less permanent "freak" population had grown to

about five hundred, and a valley-wide sense of identity was growing

that was perhaps more significant than its communes ever had

been....Indeed, the valley became nothing so much as a wild frontier

settlement struggling all over again. 4

3Benjamin Zablocki, personal correspondence.

4Hugh Gardner, The Children of Prosperity: Thirteen Modern American

Communes (New York: Saint Martin's Press, 1978) p. 180.

30

There were simply not enough beds, food, resources, or motivation to

support the dense population. One of Magic Farm's communal

neighbors, Talsalsan, was overrun and became open land on which

migratory hippies could camp. As we shall see upon closer

examination, the area's swelling counterculture presence, and Magic

Farm's resulting overpopulation tore the community apart--

economically and socially. The truth is, there is no record of the

moment that Magic Farm's long twilight period dimmed to night, but

the influx of newcomers surely contributed to the commune's

demise.

Above all, the summation of Magic Farm's legacy, from infancy

to overpopulation, provides no categorical definition. For every

communalist who dreamed of building a fabulous communal house

for the group, there was another who just wanted to camp out in the

forest. For every member who hungered for steak, another was a

strict vegetarian. And countering those who wanted an intimate,

close family, were others who felt the farm's gate was open to all.

Institutional

Magic Farm's first rule: there are no rules--customs and

routines maybe, but no rules. After all, rules were something Magic

Farm's members were universally fleeing from: government, parents,

police, and society all regulating and judging their actions.

From this first premise, the institutional character of the

community followed. Situations were explored intuitively, and dealt

with one at a time through group meetings or personal interaction.

3 1

No leader's opinion controlled the family's course, though a core

group of long-time residents did tend to make the big decisions.

However, this group did not always agree, and it never issued

ultimatums. Hence, issues such as new members, budget allocation,

and crop placement were never finally resolved.

Decisions at Magic Farm were reached by a consensus from all

members in group meetings, which could be called by any member

by writing a simple announcement on the main house's chalk board.

The sessions were carried on in the typically loose style of Magic

Farm. Questions and ideas were brought up by some, then discussed

informally. Often, decisions about the garden or food supplies were

made and implemented. However, others meetings ended with

apparent finality but then produced no action.

At one May, 1969, meeting, the community decided that it

could no longer handle any more animals, because the

responsibilities required to care for them would be too great. By

August that year, several new members had joined the farm,

bringing four dogs and a cat. The community had also acquired two

goats and a flock of twenty chickens. 5 Like most decisions made at

Magic Farm, "no more animals," became a suggestion, not a

commandment.

While Magic Farm's animal population grew uncontrollably, the

commune's open-door policy only added to its wildly dynamic

human population. In general, the commune's custom was to allow

anyone who showed up on its doorstep to stay as long as they liked.

During the Pacific Northwest's rainy season, extra residents were not

5Sundancer, p. 92.

32

common or problematic, and the commune stabilized at ten residents

or fewer. But Oregon's golden summers drew crowds of travelers

north from California and other states, which could double or triple

Magic Farm's winter population. Unfortunately, the newcomers

meant three times as many mouths to feed but not three times as

much work done. Luckily, the garden was churning out more

vegetables than even the swollen commune could consume.

From the beginning, open admissions was one practice that

divided the group. Those who supported it felt the profound

interconnectedness of the youth counterculture. Their brothers and

sisters who happened upon the commune had undergone similar

spiritual and intellectual journeys as Magic Farm's members, and

now deserved to be welcomed. Furthermore, many residents did not

feel they owned Magic Farm, but instead that they were fortunate

guests living on the land. Other members, however, longed for a

consistent core of friends on the farm. Newcomers disrupted Magic

Farm's daily routine and group unity. When the farm's population

swelled to 30, many of the original members felt as if they were

runnmg a resort, not living quietly in the backwaters of Oregon.

Elaine Sundancer originally leaned towards total acceptance, but

after little more than a year on the farm, she was beginning to have

her doubts.

Economic

As one might expect from a community that did not reqUIre

regular work of its members and had no consistent income, Magic

Farm often scrambled for money at the beginning of each month. By

33

Sundancer's calculation, the farm needed a monthly mcome of at

least $400--a startlingly small figure considering it supported up to

20 people. Half that amount went to food bought outside the farm, a

quarter to the mortgage payments, and the final quarter towards gas,

car repairs, and miscellaneous equipment. 6 Judging from estimates

made by others living in commune's during the early 1970s,

Sundancer's seems low, and may not take into account private money

that was spent on individual needs.

Magic Farm's placed its hope for making its payments and

having enough left over for other expenses in "the flow"--the tide of

people, money, and possessions that washed up the road, and then at

times receded. Indeed, at times the flow could be very rewarding, as

new members invested their savings and resources into the farm.

Tools, cars, and furniture also arrived unexpected, but well-received

by the community.

For Magic Farm, no work schedule did not translate into no

work. In fact, many of the members worked exceptionally hard

because they loved their work. Almost none fit the stereotype of the

jobless, unmotivated hippie. Gordon and Jonathan were the garden

gurus, constantly checking their backyard guidebooks and advising

others on how much to water and where to plant. Other members

had their own interests. Some enjoyed fiddling with the farm's

collection of cars or canning and storing fruits for a rainy winter day.

Everyone living at Magic Farm valued their community and was

more than willing to preserve their special life on the farm.

6Ibid., p. 115.

T34

"If it didn't get done, it wasn't necessary," states Sundancer, in

the most succinct and accurate expression of Magic Farm's work ethic

possible. It may sound naive to many middle class Americans, who

know that 40 hours a week and foresight are the only way the bills

get paid.

But Magic Farm's resourceful members had ways beyond their

garden of supplementing the flow when its source seemed to dry up.

Some earned money locally, splitting fence posts or performing other

manual labor. The commune frequently traded its labor or crops to

neighboring farms in exchange for animals or tools. One month,

when Magic Farm's communal coffers were particularly empty, the

group paid its $100 mortgage with five cords of split wood. Many

members enjoyed month-long winter respites III West Coast cities,

where they earned money which would later be contributed to the

community.

The unfortunate truth, however, is that Magic Farm could not

have lasted so long without the Uncle Sam's generosity. The federal

government supported community members through welfare,

unemployment compensation, government surplus foods, and food

stamps. But the government provided for its alienated citizens in

much subtler ways, too. As Sundancer writes, using Norton as a

pseudonym for the town of Grants Pass:

Maybe we're cheating. It's easy for us. No matter what we say or do, the

hospital in Norton goes right on existing. I've often walked past a

hospital and thought, 'They'll never get me sucked into their

operations.... But when Alan was in a coma after his car accident I found

myself praying that the hospital would save him.?

7Ibid., p. 125.

35

The communards had convinced themselves that they had escaped

"the system," that their fledgling commune could be an island of

ecological and social righteousness independent of the bourgeois

consumerism that surrounded them. But as Sundancer realized, they

were not. To her, hospitals were just one symbol of Magic Farm's

economIC dependence upon the outside--the government also

subsidized their clean nver water, roads, and local library, all heavily

used by the community.

Social

Those who called Magic Farm home were searching for some

kind of companionship or family, and most found it. Close

friendships grew rapidly through constant contact, and an

interconnected family unit followed. As in any intentional

community, the tight-knit group could not remain so without

disagreements and occasional personal clashes, but those were the

exception, not the rule.

Sexual promiscuity plays a very big role in the accepted image

of 1960s hippie communes, but there was little difference between

relationships at Magic Farm and those in the outside world. No "free

love" or group marriage ethos existed at the commune--the group's

harmony and its connection to the land were too important to

endanger with sexual experimentation. The community's core

membership was mostly single, complemented by several couples.

Short-term relationships between Magic Farm's members were rare

because they endangered the group's social stability. However,

36

relationships between Magic Farm members and outsiders were

common. Couples usually moved off the land when they became

serious because there was simply not enough privacy on the

constantly crowded farm.

Children on the farm were raised by all the adults. The

traditional and exclusive parent-child relationship of the nuclear

family had given way to an extended family of affectionate adults

who all contributed to each child's education and development.

"Nowadays," writes Sundancer, "each child still has a special

relationship with his own parent (bedtime stories and special

cuddling and such), but a casual visitor to the farm usually can't tell

which child belongs to which adult. ,,8 Adults taught children the

special skills that each knew and enjoyed: car repair, gardening,

cooking, or reading. At one point, the community attempted to

establish a more structured school for the children but found that the

traditional assignments and rules conflicted with everything the

commune valued.

Heavy drug use IS another prevalent communal stereotype that

Magic Farm's members did not fit. It is difficult to gauge how many

of the commune's members smoked marijuana or experimented with

psychedelics because each resident had his or her own routines.

However, the prevailing sentiment seems to be that drugs had their

place for certain occasions, but were inappropriate for daily use.

Drugs, many at Magic Farm realized, not only prevented one from

doing work, but dulled appreciation of the farm's magnificent natural

surroundings. Many communes of the counterculture came to same

8Ibid., p. 36.

37

conclusion, and frowned on psychedelics in favor of hard work.

During one conversation about drugs, a visitor asked Niles, a Magic

Farm resident, what the community did for fun. Niles looked up

from his gardening and responded: "Man, like everything I'm doing is

fun. You know I used to go to a bar and have a few drinks.... And I

wasn't really enjoying it at all. Now I'm not doing that anymore. ,,9

Meditation was Magic Farm's central social ritual, and the only

daily routine beyond working and eating, that members sustained

over many months. Before dinner each night, the community

gathered in the meadow's tall grass to follow their spiritual custom:

silent, inward-focused meditation first, followed by chanting the

sacred syllable "om," and completed by joining hands in a circle. The

ceremony was a daily spiritual rejuvenation for many Magic Farm

members. "I remember the shock I felt," writes Sundancer, "one time

just after the chanting had ended, when the person next to me

reached out and took my hand, and the joy I felt as I reached for the

hand of the person on my other side, and felt energy flow through

the united circle." 10

Once meditation had satisfied Magic Farm's need for psychic

calm, their appetites kicked in. And a steaming organic dinner was

usually ready for the entire community following the daily spiritual

routine. Communal dinner was the group's second daily meeting

time, and it was over the table that problems, plans, and daydreams

could be discussed.

9Ibid., p. 53.

lOIbid., p. 71.

38

Magic Farm's routines held the group together for most of the

year, but the summertime flood of visitors and drifters could not

help but unravel that relatively fragile social fabric. As was

emphasized above, newcomers disturbed many permanent residents,

not least because they could no longer follow their usual social

patterns: a quiet breakfast with several friends, solitary weeding III

the garden, and intimate group meditation at dusk. The intrusion of

dozens of visitors each summer disrupted Magic Farm's established

relationships and social continuity.

Seen from one angle, Oregon's Magic Farm was a failure:

despite a hopeful and energetic beginning, the commune lost its

momentum and faded by the middle 1970s. Many who visited the

farm, however, thought it was a huge success--a "together"

commune. For unlike many similar rural communes of the

counterculture, Magic Farm had weathered storms of visitors,

managed to eke out a living through harnessing "the flow," and

resolved economic and personal disputes in order to realize their

communal and ecological ideals.

IV

Alpha Farm

An Intentional Community and Extended Family

39

Gong! The deep peal of Alpha Farm's dinner bell

resonates through the wooded valley, breaking sunset's peaceful

spell for a moment. Gong! By the bell's fifth ring, the farm's hungry

residents have begun to meander in to the inviting farmhouse from

their day's work in the vegetable garden or barn. The steamy aroma

of potato- carrot soup welcomes them inside. Once gathered around

the dining room table, 16 heads drop to observe a calming moment

of silence; then seats are taken and forks grabbed: dinner has begun.

The residents of Alpha Farm have made their home in Oregon's

Deadwood Creek valley since 1972, making them one the country's

longest lasting intentional communities. Fifteen members currently

call the 280 acre farm home. They work and eat together, pool their

incomes, and generally act as a large extended family. Their success

is not accidental. Rather, it is the reward of a combination of hard

work, good planning, and a warm extended-family environment that

has made living together an exciting and fulfilling experience.

In the early 1970s, this communal family was only a dream III

the minds of six social activists living in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Among them were Caroline and Jim Estes, the only original members

who still live at Alpha. The Estes and their friends had been highly

•involved in Vietnam War protests as well as social work in the cit9',

but their efforts to improve lives in Philadelphia began to feel like an

uphill battle. After many late-night discussions, the group concluded

that the injustices caused by society could not be healed from within.

Only by living their lives by the principles of sharing and love could

they begin to push the world in a positive direction. Start small, they

decided, and let our communal dreams spread. With that in mind,

six East Coast idealists dropped out, packed their bags, and arrived In

Oregon to found Alpha Farm. l

Twenty-five years later, Alpha Farm has been the site of both

marriages and births, seen handfuls of members come and go,

endured the dislike of neighbors, and enjoyed the fruits of good

harvests. But through it all, Alpha has remained remarkably

unchanged. The number of members at the farm has grown, but its

current population is within the founders' expectations. The

institutional system by which Alpha Farm is guided remains the

same. Alpha's sources of income have grown, but the strong work

ethic has never faded. Finally, according to those who have lived at

the farm the longest, the community's social and spiritual character,

despite the shuffling of individual members, continues to be

accepting and active.

Institutional

Alpha Farm's institutional framework is subtle and friendly,

yet strong and effective. The community strives to be an accepting

lMichae1 Thoele, "Alpha Farm," Communities, September/October 1978,

pIS.

•extended family. But Alpha's founders realized early on that wiiliout

formal planning, the family could fragment. Many communes born

in the early 1970s, says Caroline Estes, were so disgusted with

America's monolithic "system" that they rejected all types of

structure, and pursued complete freedom instead. Alpha's founders

felt that it was not structure itself that was rotten, but the way those

in power were using it. So the group relies on regular meetings, the

consensus system, a well planned work week, and equal influence for

all members.

Three different meetings are scheduled at Alpha:

organizational, spiritual, and personal. Each does its own part to

ensure that Alpha's members feel the family is being steered in the

right direction. At each Sunday's organizational meeting, members

map out the coming week's work schedule, make the shopping list,

review bills, and generally tune up the nuts-and-bolts issues that

must be taken care of in all of our lives. While all members are

required to attend the organizational meeting, the spiritual meeting

which precedes it each Sunday is optional. Those who participate III

the spiritual meeting try to make it as accessible as possible, and

avoid the traditions of established religions. It does seem to have

some roots in Quaker services, where participants are free to express

their spiritual state or feelings at any time.

Alpha's most umque gathering may be "third meeting"--a

session each month during which members can voice and resolve any

personal conflicts they have with other members. The third meeting

has been a wonderful binding force. for the community, without

which, says Caroline Estes, Alpha may not have survived. The

encounter enables members to talk about their personal 42

disagreements, while other members contribute and mediate.

Ideally, problems that might have been bottled up and grown can be

expressed and solved.2

Because Alpha Farm's founders felt that each member should

be an integral and equal part of their community, they chose the

consensus process to be their way of making decisions. Consensus

means that decisions are reached by general accord; Le., every

participant must concur with the group's final course of action,

though he or she may not originally have supported that course. If

even one person withholds their approval from the community's

decision, no final choice can be made. For example, if the group

decided to buy a new car at the weekly organizational meeting,

everyone of the community's members would have to agree upon

the vehicle's make and model before a check could be made out to

the dealer. According to Caroline Estes, even the color of the

community's first car was wrangled over at length. Consensus often

involves hours-long discussions during which everyone is

encouraged to add their two cents. The discussion only ends when

all are satisfied with the outcome. If the consensus process is a

success, through compromise and persuasion, all involved believe

that their OpInIOnS were taken into account for the final, and best,

solution. Supporters of consensus say that the process includes

everyone, and gives each participant a sense of ownership in final

decisions. Such inclusion, they say, is absent in democracy because

2Caroline Estes, Alpha Farm founding member, personal interview, 6

May 1997.

the minority IS inevitably defeated by the majority, leaving the 43

losers alienated and unwilling to participate in future decisions. 3

But not every decision can be made by consensus. The brand

of coffee one Alpha member buys during the weekly shopping

expedition is not necessarily mulled over in a group meeting. Nor

must a committee agree on where the new tomatoes should be

planted. In fact, many daily choices are made by individuals--a

consensus on everyone would require days of bureaucratic

deliberation. But the decisions which really count, or about which

people have strong feelings, are decided by consensus.

While Alpha has worked diligently to make its decision making

process open and accessible to all at the farm, one wonders if, as III

most groups, the more experienced and outspoken members tend to

dominate the consensus process. Caroline Estes says this does not

happen, but at the same time it is clear that she is a motherly figure,

if not the leader, of the family. One younger member called her

"inspirational." But her peaceful presence suggests that her

leadership role is more negotiator than director. 4

Still, there is the potential for a controlling core at Alpha.

Members who have lived at Alpha Farm for more than a year can opt

to make long-term decisions without the other residents, because

they are most likely to be affected by those choices. But this

happens rarely, and for the most part, consensus is reached.

Economic

3Ibid.

4Alpha Farm members, from interviews, 6-7 May, 1997.

While other intentional communities have counted on a 44

subsistence standard of living, welfare, and a steady influx of outside

funds to keep them going, Alpha Farm planned their financial

survival from the beginning. Never a group to put off till tomorrow

what they could do today, Alpha's members have kept one step

ahead of the cooking, cleaning, building, and harvesting from the

beginning. Alpha's economic outlook remains bright due to a halfdozen sources of income, and because of their physically tough 40-

hour, farm-style work week. The economic relationship between the

farm and its members has also been well conceived and defined. In

ensunng a solid financial foundation, Alpha's members practiced

their usual practical family spirit.

The seven main ways in which Alpha Farm brings in money

and resources are: through on-site production; the Alpha-Bit cafe in

Mapleton; new members' investments; a local mail delivery route

which they operate; odd jobs and construction in the community; Jim

Estes' newspaper job and pension; and community-building

workshops that Caroline Estes' teaches. Obviously, Alpha farm has a

fairly stable economic base. 5

The fertile soil of the Deadwood Creek valley allows Alpha's

members to grow an acre's worth of broccoli, corn and other

vegetables. In addition, the community drinks the milk from their

three goats, and the water of the stream which flows through their

land. The nourishment which the land provides is helpful, but it

could not possibly sustain all of Alpha's fifteen members without

outside income.

5Ibid.

Alpha-Bit cafe is a small pIece of the farm, transplanted arili5

seemingly out of place in its new-age nook between Mapleton's

modern general store and supermarket. The cafe is much more than

just a place to get a bite to eat--beyond Alpha-Bit's counter are

shelves of books and arts and crafts. Alpha-Bit is a source of mcome

for the community, as well as a social focal point. Locals who stop for

coffee meet and come to understand Alpha's members, while the cafe

prevents Alpha from becoming too isolated on their remote farm.

Each new member who officially joins the community after a

year of residency also makes a significant economic contribution.

Because new members have decided to make Alpha their permanent

home, they contribute their money and property to the farm's

communal fund. $5,000 is goes directly to the community's

spendable account, while any remaining assets are kept in a reserve

from which only the interest can be used by the farm. However, the

entire contribution is refundable should the member decide to leave

Alpha. The community only asks that it be allowed time to return

the money, as it is always invested in the farm itself or one of its

businesses.

Alpha's other sources of income are somewhat more mundane:

while few Americans grow more than weeds in their backyards, most

would not feel too out of place delivering mail or receiving a pension

check. Alpha-Farm took over two of western Lane County's mail

routes in the mid-1970s and has continued to operate and profit

from it ever since. Alpha's members rumble down hundreds of miles

of the coast range's bumpy back roads each week to deliver mail.

Members of the community also make money by doing repair and

construction jobs in the area. Jim Estes is the only Alpha membcl<i

who worked for several years at a job outside the farm. As an editor

for the Salem Statesman-Journal, his salary and pension have helped

his companions significantly. Jim's wife Caroline also makes money

outside the farm through consensus and intentional community

workshops which she hosts around the country.

Anyone who has ever worked on a farm knows its not easy.

Add all of Alpha's other jobs and obligations, and you've got a heavy

load. Members usually work from eight until five, with a break for

lunch at noon. Its no idyllic life in the country, but as one member

said, "I'd rather work 40 hours out here than in a building.

To counter the strain of work, jobs rotate among members, so that

In order to make the daily grind somewhat interesting, jobs

rotate daily at Alpha. Nobody is forced to shovel dirt five days a

week. Instead, a member may work at Alpha-Bit cafe on Monday,

garden Tuesday, and drive the mail route Wednesday. Members

cook communal meals about once a week in two-person crews. Even

so, if there's a big project that must get done, such as building a new

house, everyone may pitch in for weeks or months. In addition to

avoiding monotony, job rotation keeps people from identifying

themselves with a single job. No Alpha member is "the cook" or "the

leader," and those on the farm like it that way. When every member

understands and contributes to the work of every other member,

work becomes a team effort, not the labor of some under the

direction of others.

At times, though, communal ideals must gIve way to practical

realities. Caroline Estes can no longer chop wood as well as some of

the younger members, which means she will rarely be seen splitiihg

a cord of Douglas Fir on a hot summer day. Another long-time

member was trained as an accountant, so she's far more qualified to

figure Alpha's taxes than others. Often, due to differing abilities or

preferences, some members find themselves performing similar jobs,

rather than rotating randomly. That doesn't mean the system is too

idealistic, but instead that Alpha's residents use common sense when

putting together their schedule.

While individual jobs keep Alpha's members busy most days,

the farm must also plan and complete big group projects which will

benefit the whole community. In the course of Alpha's 25 years, the

group has built two large structures, the "new house" and the office,

and repaired and improved many others. These buildings represent

major undertakings for Alpha, especially since many members didn't

know a wrench from a ratchet, and the farm must continue to focus

on its other sources of income. The new house, now more than ten

years old, is a two-story, five bedroom wood home which fits quietly

into Alpha's wooded hills. It took the community 13 years to

complete. Several other cabins on the land, one of which was

converted from a chicken coop, were also the result of sustained

group efforts. Each of the structures is evidence of Alpha's ability to

balance large projects with small ones.

Each worker at Alpha Farm is essential to a stable economIC

unit, and the group, in turn, repays them all. Members do not

receive wages for their work, but the community supplies everyone

with reasonable food, clothing, shelter and any other necessities. In

addition, residents are given a monthly allowance--$35 for those

•who have lived at the farm for more than a year, and $25 for otfl~rs­

-which allows them to do a little personal spending. But more

importantly, Alpha is committed to investing in its members. The

community has paid for members' classes at the University of Oregon

in Eugene, and even helped to put one member through the

University's school of Architecture. And the community encourages

the ideas and interests of its members, from buying frisbees to

setting up a ceramics workshop.6

Social

Economic and institutional guidelines help to define Alpha

Farm, but its warm, hospitable spirit is the community's core.

"Socially, we envision a modified style of family life that overcomes

the isolation and rigid classifications of single persons, couples, and

separate families.... Community members of all ages will participate

together in the living and growing of each other." In Alpha's vision,

the divisions in American society are bridged, creating unity and

family. And the vision has become reality: three generations live,

work, and play together on the farm.?

Alpha's members, like those of other intentional communities,

experience and enJoy life together. Everything from their daily lives

to unique They work, eat, play, and hang out all in each others'

company

Its hard to draw the line at Alpha Farm between members'

social and professional lives. For most Americans, the separation

6Ibid.

7Alpha Farm Community, "Alpha: A Prospectus," Philadelphia,

Pennsylvania, 1971.

between business and pleasure is clear. Workers leave the officet;9

drive home and then make plans with family or friends to relax and

unwind. But at Alpha, the two worlds are inextricably intertwined:

members work with friends, and socialize with their fellow workers.

Communal meals are some of the most precious social times.

Breakfast and lunch are prepared by the rotating kitchen crew for

everyone, but members break for these meals at different times and

often eat in small groups. Dinner is especially valuable, for it's the

only time during the day when the entire community is sure to be

gathered together in the same room. Before the evening meal is

served, the members of Alpha join hands for a moment of silence,

and often a song.

While the community IS nearly always together, some residents

appreciate time by themselves, and Alpha ensures they can get it.

The community promises each member his or her own room--a

private space to retreat to or store personal belongings in.

Personal space can be very valuable, especially at Alpha Farm,

where human contact is virtually unavoidable. And while constant

companionship is pleasant, many members of intentional

communities say that living with 20 friends can be one of the

hardest transitions to make. Americans, after all, are notoriously

independent: we drive alone, and often live thousands of miles away

from our extended families. Learning the social skills necessary to

share possessions, resolve minor personal problems, and divide one

bathroom between six people can discourage less dedicated visitors.

Living communally is not easy, Alpha's members say; it's not for

everyone. When serious personal problems arise within the

community, they are dealt with at Third Meeting. If they still cahOt

be resolved, the farm's members may make a consensus decision

that one or more people must leave. Fortunately, disagreements

rarely progress that far

Few rules are placed on interpersonal relationships at Alpha

Farm. Lovers, friends, families, and singles of all sexual orientations

are welcome. As their prospectus states, the group seeks to join

together groups who are traditionally separated. The community

only asks that its members are respectful of others' wishes and

prIvacy. If the group's harmony remains, Alpha is content to allow

any lifestyle or relationships.

Children at Alpha are raised not by one or two biological

parents, but by 15 adoptive ones. There's always a mom or pop

around to teach the young ones a new skill or keep them out of

trouble. Sally, mother of three of the farm's children, has enjoyed

Alpha Farm's extended family child rearing. The help she receives

from other members removes the burden of constant surveillance

from her shoulders, and she feels her kids have gotten more

perspectives and experiences from a farm full of parents than a

traditional nuclear family could have provided. 8

Though Alpha's members feel that communal child rearIng IS a

great benefit for both parents and kids, most children are schooled III

Mapleton, 15 miles south of the farm. Alpha does not want its

smallest residents to grow up insulated and sheltered from the

outside world. Apparently, parents at the farm acknowledge that

there may be some lessons which cannot be taught by a small

8Alpha Farm members.

..intentional community. Kids also enJoy the opportunity to make 51

friends their own age in public schools. Ironically, Alpha has run a

small school on the farm for children of the Deadwood Creek valley.

However, no child from Alpha has ever been educated there .

ya

I

52

VI

In Retrospect

Oregon's Intentional Communities

in Historical Perspective

Though Alpha Farm endures as a tribute to the possibilities of

communal living, many communities that like Alpha began full of

hope have long since faded away. Alpha Farm's longevity has

proved to be the exception, not the rule. Oregon saw the

establishment of dozens of intentional communities during the late

1960s and early '70s, but the social forces which spurred and

sustained the communal movement soon gave way to the inclinations

of a new era.

The decline of student activism, an economIC recession, and the

failure of many communities to achieve self-sufficiency stole the

excitement that had once saturated the movement. Though the

Vietnam War continued into the 1970s, the student movement had

splintered into opposing factions, and was no longer the proud social

force it had once been. After the 1970 Kent State killings, radicals

who sought to use violence to retaliate alienated their more

composed comrades. The '70s also challenged the young communal

movement with an economic recession. Many communes found

survival difficult already, and as money from relatives slowed and

spot jobs became more difficult to find, insufficient on-site

production failed to meet their needs. Intentional communities III

Oregon and across the country fell into a slump, which discouraged

52

53

others from joining the movement. "The flow," as Magic Farm called

it, began to dry up. 1

Some communities, like Alpha Farm, Breitenbush, and

Mountain Grove, pulled together to ride out th