Narrator: By fall of 1967, crowds in Haight-Asbury had thinned dramatically. Many of the summertime pilgrims had returned home, and there were few new arrivals. On October 6, exactly one year after the Love Pageant Rally, a group of hippies still living in the Haight closed the curtain on the Summer of Love. They staged a mock funeral, calling it "the Death of Hippie."
Kasper: We wanted to signal that this was the end of it, don't come out. Stay where you are! Bring the revolution to where you live. Don't come here because it's over and done with.
Narrator: Within a year, Haight Street was lined with vacant storefronts. The Summer of Love had been but a fleeting moment in the turbulent history of the 1960s. But it changed the lives of thousands who witnessed it firsthand, and impacted America in ways that still endure.
Roszak: I don't think the Summer of Love left any blueprints behind on how to build a better world. It was much more a showcase for, enjoyment, for happiness, for freedom. But if you probe to the underlying values you can perhaps see the seeds of a better social order than the one we're living in now.
Coyote: It was an experiment but I don't think that the search for some kind of moral stance is ever [expletive]. I don't think that the search for justice and some kind of economic equity is ever [expletive]. I don't think that trying to leave a smaller footprint on the planet is [expletive]. I don't think exploring alternative spiritual and medical practices is [expletive]. They were all valid searches and they've all been completely integrated into the culture today.
Kasper: Many of those things from that time have stayed with me. Certainly, the importance of community has stayed with me. I thought we could change the world, and I thought we would make it a better place. And I think in some ways we succeeded.
Hedgepeth: Well, when it came time for me to leave and I got into a cab on Haight Street. And this one guy who was bidding me farewell said, "I'll tell you what I'll do. You know, I'll write to you. Look, I'll send you an envelope. There won't be anything in the envelope, but I'll soak the stamp in LSD. So you, when you get this, just lick the stamp and turn on." And we were -- the cab started moving down Haight Street, and this guy was still yelling, "Lick the stamp, turn on!"