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A week in Berkeley, California (1974).
I emigrated to Canada in 1971 after completing my master's degree in chemistry. I applied for a job at the University of Calgary, which involved pursuing a Ph.D. and serving as a teaching assistant in the chemistry labs. All went rather well, and I had completed the required coursework after the first year in the program.
Doing research and documenting the results in a Ph.D. thesis was part of the program. I had two supervisors: Dr. Tris C., who specialized in organometallic chemistry, and Dr. K. Ann K., an expert in crystallographic techniques. I was excited about the work and the research in my chosen topic, the preparation of organotin compounds, and elucidating their structure using state-of-the-art diagnostic techniques. I ended up co-authoring several papers, some of which also became part of my Ph.D. thesis.
My supervisors both had small groups. Dr. C. had two graduate students, Ezzat I. from Egypt, and me from the Netherlands. Undergraduate students would do lab projects in the summer. Dr. K. had two postdocs, Dr. J. Patrick A. from the U.K., and Dr. Penelope C. from the U.S. She also supervised Brian M., who was a whiz with the computer, still a relatively new tool in the seventies. And I complemented the group, mainly doing structure elucidation using X-ray diffractometry. This was an essential tool in the study of organotin phosphate compounds, my thesis topic.
Creating an X-ray map of a compound is an intellectually exciting process. You start by taking photographs of a tiny crystal on a thin glass pin, which gives some idea of where the heavy tin atoms are located. This enables you to make an initial guess at the structure and determine the space group, a mathematical structure that repeats itself throughout the compound because of symmetry rules. Knowing the composition of the compound allows you to place other lighter atoms, phosphorus, oxygen, and finally, the lightest element, hydrogen. As you fill in the details, the structure starts to reveal itself, and eventually, you have an accurate spatial representation of the compound.
An indication that the structure has been solved is the computation of a mathematical expression, the R-factor (residual or reliability factor). The R-factor is a crucial measure in X-ray crystallography. It quantifies the agreement between the observed diffraction data and the model's predicted structure, with lower values indicating better model accuracy. An R-factor of zero indicates a perfect structure, but a value <0.2 is usually considered a good result.
It was around March 1974 that Dr. K., the recipient of significant grant monies, took her entire research group to a conference in Berkeley, California. The conference, which was held from March 24 to March 28, was attended by several hundred scientists with an interest in various aspects of the development and application of crystallographic techniques. Dr. Ashmore and Dr. Codding were to present papers at the conference. Brian and I were there to learn about developments in X-ray crystallography. Dr. K. was chairing a conference session. She had also co-authored the papers by Dr. A. and Dr. C. I recall some arguments between Dr. P. and Dr. K. about the former's paper. He wasn't happy to present work that was still in its early stages. Penelope presented work that was finished and with which she was pleased.
Nevertheless, the conference proceeded as one might expect. No doubt, the immersion in the scientific ambiance was beneficial, and I sometimes reminisced about this experience when I participated in conferences later in my career.
After the conference, we were scheduled to fly home, a short trip of less than three hours. And we would meet again at our jobs in Calgary next week. Unlike the other members of our group, I had decided to spend a couple more days in Berkeley and fly back on Sunday night. I had some contacts in the city from a worldwide spiritual organization to which I belonged. Although I didn't know anyone in the Berkeley chapter of the organization, I was aware that members frequently stayed with other members when traveling.
I contacted the local group chairperson and was given the names and phone numbers of several members. One of these was David S., and he was happy to have me stay at his place for a couple of days. He was very familiar with the local scene, and through him, I got to experience a little bit of Berkeley after hours.
On Friday night, we first attended a session of the local chapter of our spiritual organization. I met other members and socialized for an hour afterwards. Then David invited me to look into some other activities in the city. We first ended up at a get-together of a group of about ten, primarily women who delighted in singing, dancing, and reading poetry. It was a typical experience of the seventies. The women were wearing flowing white dresses and swayed to the rhythms of oriental music. There was the aroma of burning incense to create the proper atmosphere. It was certainly interesting to blend in with a hippie-like scene, even if only for a couple of hours.
While this would have been sufficient diversion for the night on its own, there was more to come. David took me to what he told me had become a tradition in Berkeley, which had started twelve years ago. So that must have been in the early sixties. Every Friday night, a group of about twenty people would get together for a couple of hours, starting at midnight, to sing and play folksongs. Several participants had brought guitars, and there were a couple of small drums. People would take turns, singing from what seemed to be an extensive collection of tunes. None of these were familiar to me. I would have expected songs by Bob Dylan or Joan Baez, but these songs were different. They were about political protests, the Vietnam War, the rights of oppressed minorities, topics familiar in left-wing circles.
There was plenty of food and drinks, potluck-style. The central dish was a meat and vegetable stew, served from a large pot at around 2 am. While I didn't know anyone in the gathering, I felt very much at home, and the folk music and general discussion brought back memories of the protest movement in Europe, which culminated in students occupying the universities in the Netherlands and elsewhere around 1968. While the political fervor had dwindled, the war in Vietnam was winding down, this retro event showed that the political consciousness was still alive. Berkeley had been the headquarters of the Black Panther movement, and the left-wing student movement was strong there.
However, the gathering had a sense of nostalgia for a movement that had run its course, yet its adherents were unwilling to let go of it. David appeared to be very familiar with the city's political and cultural heartbeat, and if I had stayed longer, I would have had the opportunity to experience more of it. He was an interesting guy, not limited in his interests by the spiritual movement we belonged to, but more generally in touch with the broad cultural and political movements of the sixties.
We went back to David's place and I had a short night's sleep. On Saturday, I was on my own. I made my way back to the university and wandered around the campus. While it was the weekend, the place was abuzz with activity. Various political action groups had stalls where they displayed books and pamphlets about their causes. I ended up talking with a young man who I understood was a member of a spiritual movement that had originated in Korea. He told me that the group had a commune in Berkeley with nearly a hundred members. He invited me to visit the premises and have dinner with the group members. "I would be engulfed by a feeling of love and friendship that permeated the commune," he told me. Since I had no plans for the rest of the day, I agreed to come along, ready for another experience.
The commune was located in a stately old home with large rooms. It was getting close to dinner time. Members of the community gathered around large tables, facing each other. The food was simple: cooked rice and vegetables, a small amount of meat, and, to finish, a tapioca dessert—ceramic cups with lemonade for drinks. No alcohol. A prayer was said before the meal. Most of those around the table were in their late teens or early twenties—women with long, flowing hair and simple dresses. The men had short hair and were clean-shaven. The atmosphere was friendly, almost too friendly.
Those gathered had a dreamy look in their eyes. They asked me where I was from and why I had come to Berkeley. I revealed little, saying that I had come from Canada to experience California, and what I had seen had been an eye-opener.
After the meal, the commune members helped with the cleanup. A little later, we gathered in another large room. We were seated on folding chairs facing a stage. Some of the group's leaders spoke. They expressed thanks to the Lord for the good meal that they had just eaten and reflected on the mission of the commune, which was to spread peace, harmony, and goodwill. The people gathered were asked to share their recent experiences. The accounts were gushing with good feelings and love.
People were also invited to contribute by reading a poem, singing a song, or playing the guitar. I joined another male in singing a 1960s folksong, strumming a guitar that was handed to me. We got a warm applause and felt appreciated. The entertainment lasted about an hour. Thereafter, the commune members dispersed for the night, presumably to continue socializing, reading, or other activities.
I had been observing the scene. Some people acted as leaders. They were vocal about life at the commune and encouraged members to perform during the entertainment. I noticed a few foreigners of Asian extraction who were giving directions to the leaders. I talked with some of the men of the commune. They told me what had brought them to the commune. They had experience with marihuana and other drugs. Several had been active in political action groups. However, they had realized that something was missing in their lives, and then they discovered the commune, which attracted them with the vibes emanating from its members. I learned that they had given up their worldly possessions, contributed money to the commune, and worked for the realization of its goals. Some of them worked in jobs, and they gave what they earned to the commune treasury.
One of the male members took me apart and talked to me about the commune and its projects. I told him that I liked what I had experienced, and he recommended that I should extend my stay and go on a tour to a sister commune outside of Berkeley on Sunday. I told him that I would like to do that, but that I had a return flight to Canada on Sunday. He became insistent and told me to postpone my return and stay for the weekend. I replied that I had to go back to my wife and one-year-old child at home and that I was expected to be back at work on Monday. He kept pressing me, and I started to feel uncomfortable. After a while, I got fed up. I thanked him for the meal and the opportunity to experience the commune and left for David's place.
I told him about my visit to the commune. He smiled. "I think you got involved with the followers of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon. He has founded a religious organization, the members of which are commonly known as the 'Moonies'."
I read about the movement later and learned that Moon founded the Unification Church, also known as the Family Federation for World Peace and Unification. The church started in South Korea in 1954, and it began to attract attention in the U.S. Churches of the movement were established in the San Francisco Bay area, including Berkeley. The reverend Moon became known for his penchant for marrying members en masse. Giant simultaneous weddings, which included hundreds of happy couples, were evidence of the church's God- and family-centered mission.
The Unification Church came under fire for its high-pressure recruiting tactics, which I experienced during my visit to the local commune. Testimonies of ex-Moonies demonstrate that the church is, in fact, a cult. The book' Heavenly Deception' by Chris Elkins describes the author's experiences with the church, his entrance into the cult, his disillusionment, and his eventual departure from the cult. The book was dramatized in the eponymous movie in 1993.
The documentary 'Blessed Child' (2019) is a documentary directed by Cara Jones that offers an intimate look at her life as a former Moonie. For another detailed account of the 'Moonies' and their recruiting practices in the seventies, described by Barbara Underwood, go to https://tragedyofthesixmarys.com/underwood/
On Sunday, I thanked David for his hospitality and the places he took me, and flew back home with stories to tell my wife and friends in Calgary.
MvR – September 6, 2025. ✍️