Thursday, April 28, 2011

Some Background On Lana Clarkson's Life

The Dead, Carlos Santana, the wild flamenco dancers from another commune down the road, and scores of day-trippers would stop by and ignite spontaneous parties. The area was then the world capital of LSD, and there was a lot of acid tripping going on. Hidden at the back of a kitchen shelf was a black jar holding a hockey-puck-size mass of the now-mythical concoction of LSD known as “Orange Sunshine”—all of which was eventually consumed.

Lana was raised by Donna Clarkson, a single mother and registered nurse. Together with Lana’s younger sister, Fawn, they lived in a rented house and took part in the commune’s social life. Donna had dark hair and eyes and the long legs Lana had inherited. “She was kind of a flaky hippie, like the rest of us,” says one of the commune’s mainstays, Julie Beardsley. “But she took being a mother very seriously. She came to a lot of our parties but didn’t get wild and pick up men—especially in front of Lana.”

Family and friends describe Lana as a happy child who was reciting nursery rhymes when she was just a year old and loved telling stories and dressing up. On Lana’s tenth birthday Donna gave her a roan mare, and over the next four years she learned to ride both western and English style. W hen she turned 14, they mated her horse, Breeze, with one of the commune’s horses—a large, papered white Arabian stallion named Kief. Lana and the other local girls hung around the corral, looking on with fascination as the horses coupled. Not long after its birth the foal stepped into a posthole, snapped its leg, and had to be put down. Some of the commune members decided to freeze the meat and serve it at a party at a nearby ranch, where Lana accidentally ate her own horse.

“Lana,” says Beardsley, “was a sweet girl