I first left home at 16 because my boyfriend at the time had been kicked out of all his relative's houses and I was getting REALLY sick of watching my wonderful mother letting herself be walked all over and abused... so we left. We ended up going to a Krakus show in San Diego and sleeping in some bushes instead of going home. When my mom called in the morning my boy smashed my cellphone with his cane, yelling something about how it was my electronic leash and I didn't need that shit from a woman who didn't even have enough respect for herself to get out of a bad relationship.. and that's how it all started for me.
My first real squat was in Hollywood though, a couple months later -- before that it was all alleyways, rooftops, and bushes. My BF and I (the same one I originally left home with) had been staying with strangers and crackheads in their hotel rooms and sleeping in alleyways (we went into the TAV and promptly decided we weren't staying there with the junkies, ghosts, and rats the size of cats -- and THAT SMELL! so unique...); we decided to catch some food at The Way In drop-in shelter. They had hot water and we ended up making some pretty hallucinogenic tea that night and pretty much going out of our minds. Some older squatters who had come to pick up meals for their house saw us (and I guess talked to us for awhile -- I don't remember ANY details of that night though), and I guess they felt sorry for us. They took us back to the house near Melrose and Vine and we promptly fell asleep. When we woke up we had NO fucking clue where we were or how we had gotten there, and we could have really gotten fucked up that night if we would have run into bad people... I will never forget Angel's kindness and generosity, and I have tried to keep contact and remain friends with him throughout the years. The squat collectively decided we could stay there, since most of them were leaving for a festival in canada in a few weeks anyways... and it became the "Penis Squat" (don't ask). We stayed there all summer, it had a MOUNTAIN of beer cans that reached the ceiling, AC for about a month before it died, and one electrical socket that worked, with a 13" b&w TV we would watch The Simpsons on and one light. By the time the place got raided we had at least 13 heads sleeping there (RIP Shaggy), most in the living room . As we all lined up against the fence on Melrose Blvd at 9am in our underwear and weird hair, in handcuffs, Ethan Embry (Empire Records, Freaky Links, etc) recorded the whole thing on his lil camcorder and I spit at him while he laughed at the trespassing homeless kids who were being hauled off to jail.
I wonder if he still has that footage?