| OCR Text |
Show Bauman Says Death Rattle of U.S. By J. BAUMAN I was sitting in my apartment Monday night, contentedly slurping Coors, reading Ulysses, and not paying much attention to the radio, when the announcer said something about a "shooting incident" just having occurred at 930 E. Third So. He said a young man was involved; in-volved; as this address was only a couple of blocks from my own and I thought the young man might be a student (and therefore of interest to Chronicle readers), I hurried over. There were about four policemen huddled around a patrol car, its bubble-gum machine blinking red in the night. One talked into a radio mike; the others just leaned against the car, looking glum and a bit disinterested. One of the policemen po-licemen told me Michael Jack Mun-sey Mun-sey had been taken to a hospital; he was dead when he left the place. Hotel Boarder Inside the hotel boarding house with a reporter from the Tribune and one from KSL, I learned that the boy had been visiting Room 34 when he had shot himself; the names over the mailbox in the hall for Room 34 were "Collins, Cha-kiris." Cha-kiris." The lights in the dingy hall were bare, the red carpeting scuffed and worn. A tearful-looking young hippie with a green shirt and long black hair wandered past, muttering "That little bummer! That damn little bummer!" The carpeting was skimpy ; it only covered the floor at the center of the hall and smaller sections of carpeting led off from that center strip to each door. There was an empty, dirty milk bottle on the floor near the door opposite the death-room. A barefoot hippie and a sandaled companion walked down the hall, heading toward a staircase. They glared stonily at us. One of them said something about not having seen so many straight people in months. I sat on the stairs and smoked; there was a discussion going on down one level. "They're all juice heads" alcoholics "They were all juiced up . . . grass ..." Someone coughed repeatedly. Coming up the stairs, one yelled "Bloodthirsty!" at me. One of the boys who had been there when the other was killed left the room with a policeman and came out into the hall. "Him and another kid and I were in here sittin' and shootin' bull and he says he wants me to shoot at this Gulf sign down the street and I wouldn't do it he was talking talk-ing about some babe and he starts to fool with this gun, clicking it and all of a sudden BLAM! he starts to bleed in the right temple the side of his face started to turn purple. I thought someone else had been shot; I turned to this other kid and said, 'Call the nearest police right away!' Which apartment did you use?" Another: "Apartment 10." Russian Roulette "Yeah, he called from Apartment 10. He had been playing Russian roulette. He said he put one bullet in; he clicked.it four times..." Cop: "Come on boys; right this way." He took them by the arms and led them off, - Cop at door: "It's just an. apart ment with a bloody cbuch, that's all (to another cop with a cardboard card-board box) come in here. We found another drawer full of you-know-what. They're all minors." Michael Jack Munsey, 19, is dead. Russel D. Collins, 18, and Jeffrey Lee Story, 19, were charged with second degree burglary and grand larceny Tuesday in connection with the Nov. 26 robbery of the Highland High-land Cafe of liquor and cigarettes: What's wrong with this country? What the hell is wrong? |
