“Rain, Rain. Go Away.”


A collaborative effort begun by Chuck Ross




Part 1: By Charles (Chuck)

We were midway through Virginia’s spring rainy season of 1972 and everyone I knew was just sick of it to include my neighbour and friend Ron when one Thursday night, it occurred to us that we ought to take matters on own hands and see if we could stop all this rain.

Both of us being avid readers and experimenters in the vein of Para-normal Psychology mixed with a minor in recreational mind-altering substances usage, we came to the hypotheses that if we were to drive up to the crest of Virginia’s Skyline Drive where the clouds gathered to determine the weather for the plains the next day, we could possibly agitate or somehow break-up the formation and provide a nice clear weekend.  We just felt then and not sure we do not still believe or feel that the combination of aura enhancement and energy placed just so or properly can change the world.  So we filled Ron’s old Volkswagen bus with wine, oranges, marijuana, our guitars and ourselves (already filled with LSD) and headed for the mountaintop.

2 hours later, we pulled into a small roadside overlook at the very top of the Skyline Drive and sat buoyed by our chemical fortitude as a driving rain beat the roof of that old bus like a drunken calypso band. After a while we sensed a break in the deluge and realizing it made no sense to be wearing clothes, we stripped naked and slung our guitars over our shoulders and ventured out to the edge the overlook.  Then, as if it was as normal as a thing to do as anything you can think of, we began strumming and singing to whatever weather gods would listen.

Strumming and singing and singing and strumming, we played on and on in the drizzle but only got the results of the rain picking back up again and turning into a downpour and so we sought the warmth of our clothes and the dryness of inside the bus.  What a disappointment.  It should have worked.  The magic of being there, on top, naked, singing in the middle of the night.  How could it have failed, we thought?  And then!  And then, we heard it.  Some sort of music, faint but nearby.  At first we were not sure we were really hearing music but rather some trick of the mind as the rain beat down so hard.  But then, again, music and we knew for sure.

So, armed with the only flashlight we had, we ventured out into the rain once more and flashing the light around, located a van parked on the far side of the overlook.  Strange.  It had not been there when we pulled in and we had not heard it arrive while we were there.  Only one thing to do and so we ran through the driving rain to the van and without not even thinking about it, knocked on the van’s side door.

Then apparently, with the occupants thinking no more about it than we had about knocking on the door in the middle of the night, they opened the door and stepping inside, we found 3 woman and 1 man laying on various rugs and blankets and the whole insides had a pretty strange feel to it as it smelled like wood, sex and perhaps like someone had just gutted or cleaned a rabbit or squirrel. Hawkeye, a fit, compact, wiry sort of Charles Manson fellow, said that he and the women were travelling together and could not be happier.  Strange but Hawkeye and the 3 woman seemed to have no more fear of us than we of them in our meeting on this mountain top in the middle of the night and we talked for a while and we offered up some oranges and they some wine.  Finally, Ron asked if Hawkeye could do something about the weather to which Hawkeye replied, “And what would you like?"  “No more rain, of course!” was Ron’s reply and then Hawkeye looked at both of us and in a calm, steady and assured voice said “It will be as you ask.”

After Hawkeye’s assurances of no more rain, we stayed for a while longer but then I began to become uncomfortable.  Perhaps it was the number of knives hung all around the inside of the van I had not noticed at first or all the small animal skins which really were what Hawkeye and the women were laying on and not rugs or blankets.  So, we said our goodbyes and thinking the best of it, when we returned to the bus, Ron started it up and we headed on back home, feeling we had done what we could do and if what we had done, singing and dancing in the rain, had not worked, perhaps Hawkeye would come through.

And you do know what happened, don’t you?  Despite the forecast for rain all weekend, the day we returned from the summit, the peak, the pinnacle, the mountain, the clouds broke open and the sun appeared and shone on for days and days.


Was it our energies thrown over that mountain top edge or was it Hawkeye? 

And do not even try to tell Ron or me that it was not one or the other or perhaps both.


Oh, by the way, if you have never taken a shower in the rain, you really must.  It is the most refreshing shower you will ever have.


Part 2: By Ron

When we left that van in the middle of the night, it was clear to me that Hawkeye was offering or had offered or was getting ready to offer, the 3 women to Chuck and I and I was surprised when Chuck suddenly said that it was getting late and we should be going.  Perhaps it was the LSD or perhaps it was all that had transpired up to this point, but I liked it inside that van and was not ready to leave.

Anyway, once we returned to the VW bus, Chuck turned to me and said, that guy, Hawkeye, was evil or the Devil and he did not know which but he had to get out of there and I remember thinking, I had no such sense of evil and could Chuck be right? 

I have wondered about it many times since that night.  Could I really have met the Devil and not even sensed his evil, not recognized him?  Makes me wonder about myself but I do believe that if Chuck felt it, sensed it, knew it, then it was so.  Perhaps I was overcome with lust and could not see or perhaps I am just too naïve a person to see evil even when it is right there, right in front of me. 

Anyway, what Chuck has written is true and is only another small story of many, each of us has to tell and share.


For more Ron Stultz writings, click here.