Today is the second half of Sally Binford’s remarkable oral history interview, which is my pleasure to read aloud. I may not have her “accent,” but I have her attitude!
You can listen to the first half here, where you’ll learn about her young life and jaw-dropping assault on the field of archeology and anthropology.
UPDATE: I have edited the full Sally Binford oral history interview, parts 1 and 2, here—
It’s an hour and nineteen minutes.
Below, in addition to our podcast, are a few special remembrances.
Read memories by Sally’s friend Honey Lee Cottrell, Sally’s PhD students recalling all the grisly details, a letter from her grandson, Tim, and a video interview with Jeremy Slate, Sally’s dear friend in life’s adventures.
From L to R: Jan, Sally, & Poodle Jake in their North Beach apartment, Sally and Jeremy Slate in Stinson Beach, and an archeology student’s homemade homage to Sally. © HL Cottrell.
A letter from Honey Lee, written in 2008:
Susie, This interview! What an elegant fly-by of an entire life; all of it dancing on the head of a pin.
Well done, Sally— and Janet Clinger and Susie for publishing.
I first met Sally at her place in Stinson Beach in the mid-70's. We did indeed eat, drink, smoke, and tell stories for many years after. I found great comfort and counsel among the folks who came to sit at Sally's table.
I remember her telling me the story of being abandoned inside the cave at Lascaux with her young daughter. I couldn't believe that "Miss Science-Mind" managed to get herself locked up with, what to me, were the spirits of the very ancestors she was studying.
She only smiled when I mentioned it. I love that this interview details her own awe and wonder of that ancient site. It rearranges my memory.
The communal experience of sitting at Sally's table did have a modern tribal feel to it. Perhaps it grew from that Lascaux seed experience.
I remember, also, being on the other side of Sally's determined point of view. For me, that happened over the matriarchy debate.
It's interesting to notice, that to this day, when I hear someone talking about "When God was a woman," the first thing I hear in my head is, "Oh, Sally wouldn't like that this fantasy is still alive!" She took all the fun out of time traveling back to that era. I just can't get there any more.
I do miss Sally and keep her principles and memory close to me. I'm glad she wasn’t alive to witness the Iraq war and the Bush/Cheney reign of terror. I was barely able to handle myself and I knew that Sally couldn't.
Honey Lee
Tim Borchard, Sally’s grandson:
I just wanted to say that I found this very enlightening. It may surprise some just how little Sally discussed her life with those you might think would know more. I am the grandson she saw seldom, spoiled, and loved.
During my youth while I was getting myself in lots of trouble, rebelling against all things authoritarian, and becoming disfranchised from the majority of my family in the process, Sally was my one moral supporter in all I did. She did not hide anything from me.
I was always aware of her acedemic achievements, sexual proclivites, drug use (she once chastised me at the age of 13 for getting caught with some poor quality marijuana while she happened to be in town for a rare visit. "If you're going to piss your mother off, at least do it over some better shit than that"), and political beliefs.
It was always a knowledge of "what" rather than "how" or "why" however. This is the only first hand insight, unskewed by other's opinions or views, I have ever had on how she came to be the person I had the pleasure to know.
Brian, past editor of Psychology Today wrote me:
I just came across your blog post on Sally. It brought back lots of memories. I was a student of the Binfords (when Sally was with Lew) first as an undergrad at UCLA and then as one of a few they took with them on scholarship when they made the move to the University of New Mexico in the fall of 1968.
Lew came to my house in the middle of the night and tapped on the window the night Sally threw him out. My girlfriend and I put him up for the night and fed him breakfast. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .
It was a weird, wonderful, tumultuous few years. When Lew and Sally were in the throes of splitting up, life got a little tough for their grad students at New Mexico (I think there were three or four of us who were part of their package deal when they negotiated the move). I was on a straight-to-Ph.D. program and suddenly decided it would be a really good idea to take a couple of extra courses, pick up my M.A. and go spend six months in the Colombian jungle with another grad student. Which I did. I subsequently went on to the University of Michigan, in a certain sort of irony. Lew's behavior became highly erratic (even more erratic) after Sally left - she was the only thing that put a lid (pardon the pun) on him, and absent that control he was out of control.
I have so many fond memories of Sally. She was, as you know, an extraordinary cook. When they were at UCLA, Lew and Sally rented a house in the hills overlooking L.A. They'd invite a couple of us over and Sally would cook the most incredible meals - and I think that would have been my opinion even if I hadn't smoked so much dope! It was from Sally that I learned that beef tongue could be a gourmet treat. My mom and Sally are the two women who made me the good cook I am today!
She was an incredible person, in many ways. I think I most admired her for her willingness to get up in front of an auditorium of students and lecture, in spite of her stuttering. That took a lot of guts, and she had them.
Sally was smart, witty, talented, engaging, committed, passionate and so many other things. She was one of a kind, and I'll always count it as one of the high spots of my life that I happened to be in the right place, at the right time, and meet her and enjoy all of that for a few years.
Like Sally, my interests were diverse and five chapters short of finishing my Ph.D. at Michigan I accepted a job back on the west coast as an editor at Psychology Today magazine (I'd been editor of the student paper at UCLA and a newspaper career was my other option at graduation). The publishing conglomerate that had purchased Psych Today moved the magazine to New York a year later, and I went back to UCLA as a temporary professor, replacing someone on sabbatical. I did a brief stint at Playgirl magazine (working for a woman who'd been an editor at Psych Today), and then started my own writing/editing firm. Lo these 40 years later, I'm still at it. The Ph.D. never got finished.
I join you in missing Sally.
Thanks for the memories.
Best,
Brian
Jeremy Slate, legendary actor/songwriter, was Sally Binford’s longtime dear friend, comrade and lover. Here he is, discussing their early days together:
Sally Binford: Sandstone: the Utopian Sex Community— and The Pentagon Papers