Runaway Train (Part II)

Tricia Sullivan fled her southern Oregon hometown and the confines of her family in April. Arriving in San Francisco, she melded with the street community of young castoffs, misfits, and rebels. Phoning home, she lied and told her dad she was in New Yor

Androus' monologue is a fascinating mix of truths, half-truths, wishful thinking, and tall tales. He says he once chased one of his mother's boyfriends with a butcher knife; that his mother once put a gun to his head; that he saved a 5-year-old neighbor girl from her abusive father; that he could communicate with the spirits before he even did LSD; that he is HIV-positive and that Tricia told him she had full-blown AIDS; that the Hell's Angels issued deaths threats to him and Galaxy.

He adds that he experienced a full druidic intiation rite when he was a teen. In Chico.

"I was put face to face with different death possibilities to see how I dealt with it," Androus says. He considers Celtic-paganistic druidism his "religion," and says he was trying to start "the Castro Oi Coven."

"Priests will sometimes play the role of the dark god," Androus says. "Sometimes when people are dying they'll be there at the point of death to assist in the transition.

"Stevie was getting involved with wicca and had asked me to put her religious symbols on her face, so that even when she died her religion would be obvious."

"Do you feel like you did anything wrong?" I ask.
"No. Given the circumstances, I believe that what I did was best," he says. "I feel firmly that she needed to rest. Basically, when she asked me if I'd help her die, she said she was in so much pain, both emotionally and physically. She said she'd do it herself or find someone else to ... She said living was too frightening."

"Didn't you consider her a friend?"
He assumes a haughty expression.
"I wouldn't do what I did for just anybody.

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  • Zagnut 12/18/2011 7:43:00 PM

    Whatever happened to the Teenage Death Druid anyway? The last I heard of him was a tiny item in the police blotter of some other San Francisco newspaper, years after he'd done his time for his part in the Sullivan incident -- it seemed he'd given some kids in a playground a tube of Halloween make-up blood that they squirted in their eyes, immediately drawing the attention of a nearby cop. When asked where they got the bogus blood, the kids fingered Martin, who responded to the officer's interrogation by volunteering the information that he was Martin Androus, a Wiccan High Priest, and as high as a buzzard's ass on speed. You know what happened next... and it is thus, bound for jail or the psych ward, that our young psychopomp seemingly passes from the public eye altogether h

 
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