‘Levitation’ for Abbie : Tribute to Activist Is Characteristic Mix of Mourning and Mirth

In ties and shirts, and tie-dyed shirts, the friends of Abbie Hoffman gathered Sunday to mourn and joke and talk politics at the First Unitarian Church near downtown.

Fellow Chicago Seven defendant David Dellinger was there. Fellow Youth International Party founder Paul Krassner was there. Hundreds who never met Hoffman, but who wanted to recharge their memories of the turbulent ‘60s, came too, for a “memorial levitation and congregation” 18 days after the activist’s reported suicide.

At a wake subtitled, “One for the Yipper,” they shared reminiscences of a man who, like Shakespeare’s jesters, spent his life mixing mirth with pointed social statements: burning money at the New York Stock Exchange in 1967; stomping on judicial robes during his trial, along with six other defendants, on charges of inciting riots at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago; working as an environmentalist under an assumed name during six years as a fugitive from drug charges--and appearing on television and before Congress in the process.

Symbols of an Era

Inside, the crowd filled a wood-paneled, red-carpeted auditorium adorned with posters of doves and ban-the-bomb symbols.

Outside, the overflow watched the proceedings on a courtyard television monitor.

Hoffman, 52, was found dead April 12 in his apartment in New Hope, Pa. A coroner said he committed suicide with an overdose of phenobarbital. Friends said that Hoffman, who had been diagnosed as manic depressive, had been hurt in an auto accident and upset that students on campuses where he lectured appeared to be more interested in wealth and careers than in activism.

Now, Krassner said Sunday from the stage, Hoffman “is busy writing his next book: ‘Resurrection for the Hell of It.’ ”

Series of Tributes

Onstage, ‘60s activists who worked with Hoffman to mobilize people against the war in Vietnam were joined by latter-day celebrities--including director Oliver Stone and comedian Whoopi Goldberg.

Although Hoffman’s funeral was held in his home town of Worcester, Mass., on April 20, tributes were also planned in San Francisco and New York, said Jay Levin, founder of the L.A. Weekly and an organizer of the Los Angeles memorial.

Appropriately, Sunday’s event combined humor and anger. As Hoffman himself said in a taped television interview aired at the wake, “I’ve never seen being funny as the opposite of serious.”

Appropriately, there was a disruption. Jonathan Elliott, 24, a Silver Lake guitarist, rose uninvited from the audience to join two former members of The Doors playing, “When the Music’s Over.”

Wavy Gravy, in the full clown regalia of his heyday as the counter-culture’s mascot, was prevailed upon to herd the intruder offstage, to scattered boos from the crowd.

“The other day,” Krassner told the audience, “in Abbie’s honor, I was rolling a joint with the cover of People magazine.” The crowd laughed appreciatively.

And he recalled Hoffman’s scheme to call a press conference to announce a new drug that was an aphrodisiac. The idea was for Krassner to pretend to be a reporter “accidentally” sprayed with the chemical. He would then grab a prearranged woman and the two would soon be entwined.

“Unfortunately, there was a scheduling conflict. I had to go to the University of Iowa,” Krassner said. So Hoffman told him, “OK, your assignment is to bring back some cornmeal for the levitation of the Pentagon.”

Dellinger struck a more sober note. He remembered the time his bail was revoked during the Chicago Seven trial and he was led off to Cook County Jail. Others made statements to reporters, but Hoffman went to Dellinger’s 13-year-old daughter and embraced her.

And Dellinger implied that Hoffman’s death was not a suicide. Although some friends had been quoted as saying Hoffman’s auto accident was a failed suicide attempt, Dellinger said Hoffman told him later “he thought his brakes had been tampered with.”

“There is a field of inquiry here,” he said. “It must be followed up.”

Others spoke of Hoffman’s continuing commitment to political activism. He kept speaking out during the 1980s, getting arrested at a University of Massachusetts protest against CIA recruitment, along with former President Jimmy Carter’s daughter, Amy.

Daniel Ellsberg, who publicized the Pentagon Papers, told the audience that the best way to honor Hoffman is “to keep doing what he was doing.” Ellsberg unfurled a banner given to him by some 22-year-olds at an anti-nuclear protest after Hoffman’s death.

“Sweet dreams, Abbie,” was the message written there. “You helped start it. We’ll help finish it.”

Times staff writer Paul Feldman contributed to this article.