Born a blue baby, gasping for air in 1941 to a prominent Irish Catholic San Francisco Mission District family I was raised with a silver spoon, Cadillacs, Christmases with the rooms packed with toys, expensive restaurants and a 6 acre farm in Inverness.

I grew up believing that America was the”” land of the free, our Constitution rooted in the promise of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness “.

I learned from personal experiences that these promises were unmet for many Americans.

My parents illness when I was 15 shattered our family. Life suddenly changed from lace curtain to Shanty Irish in one generation: Rundown shacks, welfare searches, living on Catholic charity  stale bakery good’s, experiencing class cruelty first hand, filling empty bellies with A-1 and catsup sandwiches , electricity turned off and evictions gave birth to an angry rebel waiting for a cause.

Standing up to power became my way of life, landing me in jail more than 30 times; looking down the barrel of a loaded 38, in Natchez Mississippi , facing mobs in Selma Alabama, dismissed from UC Berkeley in my senior year, singled out, tried and acquitted on felony conspiracy for organizing Stop Draft week, fighting for Catholic civil rights in Northern Ireland, becoming a nurse and leader in the hospital workers union, and joining Cindy Sheehan as a medic at protests outside of President George Bush’s Texas ranch.

A life of intense activity and commitment to the movement interspersed with bouts of hedonism, sensuality, music and drugs. An ongoing struggle for personal freedom. A never ending search for intimacy and love.

My journey, echoing the spirit and voices of thousands who marched, went to jail, took over buildings went on strike, built parks and barricades, were chased, beaten, blown up and died for freedom. Sometimes dancing with joy, sometimes crying for fallen brothers and sisters, pausing along the way to raise families, build communities, and create lives.