At long last documentation

[Michael Eisenstadt]

Dave,

This stuff is great. Jaxon is not currently subscribed.
I trust you sent him these items.

Your account of Wynn Pratt's death fills in some
details. My roommate & I knew his father Prof.
Willis Pratt quite well and even spent nights in his
extraordinary house on W.35th street it filled with
18th century silver and Mexican antiquities and
even a small Rodin (house actually at the end of a
dirt road off W.35). Eric Stocker used to housesit the
house when Willis was in Mexico with Carlos
Kelp, the German antique dealer and life-styler
extraordinay where they owned a house together.
Eric was also married to Martha Hartzog at that time.

I once said to Willis something to the effect
that neither of us had/would have any descendants.
He corrected me explaining that his son Wynn
had had a daughter, his grandchild.

Wynn Pratt who undoubtedly had seen the movie
Phedre left a suicide note and intentionally drive
his (or someone's) sportscar off a cliff road as
Tony Perkins does in the film.

So you see, all this stuff adds up.

Mike

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "J.David Moriaty" <moriaty at sbcglobal.net>
To: "survivors' reminiscences about Austin Ghetto Daze in the 60s" 
<austin-ghetto-list at pairlist.net>
Sent: Friday, March 11, 2005 1:20 PM
Subject: Re: At long last documentation


> The earliest letter that mentions the Ghetto is to my parents, postmarked 
> February 11, 1963.   I had moved in some time earlier at the urging of 
> Tary Owens since all the rent payers had moved out and the "family" was 
> about to lose the apartment, 2812 1/2 Nueces, Apartment 4. Wali Stopher 
> was still crashing there, but he assured me he'd move out any day. I got 
> Jackson to sign on, so we were splitting $35/month two ways, bills paid.
>
> "2812 1/2 Nueces
> 'down the alley from
> the friendly tavern'
>
> "Our man from Gatesville is gone. The gentleman I told you about that went 
> to reform school and then went insane stole a car, left a note to his 
> roommate and then drove off a cliff. 700 feet. I didn't know Wynn Pratt 
> personally like a friend. I only talked to him on one or two occasions but 
> quite a few people around here knew him and among them he is universally 
> mourned. His father is Dr. Pratt, a university professor. [reporters with 
> the Daily Texan had come thundering up the stairs at 2 am to ask me about 
> Wynn the night he died. Since they woke me and I didn't know anything I 
> wasn't the best interview]
>
> "The more I clean out this place, the more I am convinced it is a 
> fantastic deal. It looks huge and airy now that we have the windows 
> washed. Amazing view. [Wali] Stopher came in and looked and said he always 
> thought this place was backed up to a grey stucco wall."
>
> I had moved into what was essentially a public space, like living under 
> the Congress Avenue bridge, and it took some getting used to. A bunch of 
> people I didn't know charged in about 2 am and helped themselves to the 
> bathroom, then complained loudly that I was ruining the ambience because I 
> had cleaned the toilet. I told them since I was paying the rent, that gave 
> me a certain amount of proprietary discretion.
>
> Some  days later I awakened at 4 am to the sickening smell of peyote 
> cooking and found a stranger in the kitchen boiling a big potful of buds. 
> He said his name was Toad, and he had heard in Greenwich Village in NY 
> that this apartment was cool.  No report of this exists in my parental 
> correspondence.
>
> Dave