I first connected with the infamous underground LSD chemist responsible for Orange Sunshine in the late 1990s, following his imprisonment related to the 1996 bust of his clandestine lab in Canada. We'd started up a correspondence after I comped him a subscription to The Entheogen Review. When I learned of his forthcoming early release in December of 2000, I invited him to present at the Mind States II conference. He replied that he'd love to, but that there could be complications imposed by the conditions of his parole. But once he'd been released, he suggested, we should in any case get together to finally meet in person.
We met a month later in San Anselmo, where he led us to some forgettable café to chat over lunch. Approaching an empty table at the joint, we both went for the same seat, but I got there first. At any previous points in my life when this situation had come up, the other person—perhaps noticing my firm grip on the chair—let go and took another seat. Nick wasn't letting go. Clearly I'd gotten hold of the chair before him. Perhaps he'd been removed too long from polite society? But I wasn't inclined to budge. I'd carefully chosen my chair immediately on entering the place as a matter of engrained habit. It was the only available seat that had a clear line of sight of the entire joint including, importantly, all entrances and exits. "Um... I was going to sit there," Nick stated casually, without letting go of the chair. "As was I," I replied smiling back while tightening my grip. We appeared to be at a stand-off. What the hell was wrong with this guy? "Well, the thing is..." Nick offered, lowering his voice slightly, "I feel more comfortable when I'm sitting with a wall behind me, where I have full view of an establishment's entrances and exits." Laughing, I conceded the chair to a kindred spirit, while letting Nick know that I had the same reason for having selected that seat, but I supposed that he was probably more worthy on that count than I was.
In the end, Nick was able to secure permission from his parole officer to speak at the conference. His talk, titled "Reflections on Imprisonment and Liberation as Aspects of Consciousness" (see https://archive.org/details/037NickSand2001 ) was the only presentation that I can recall ever having received a standing ovation at one of my events. Over the years since then, Nick and I became close friends. He mentioned to me once that, because of his need to remain hidden while manufacturing psychedelics, he never had much sense of the impact that his products had on society. Then he thanked me for providing the opportunity to see that first-hand, by re-introducing him to the psychedelic community at my Mind States conferences.
A few days before Nick passed away, he called me to ask a favor. In response to his request, I am hopeful that you will take a moment to consider the text posted here:
http://www.mindstates.org/honoring-nick-sand
I encourage you also to please share this page over the next few days—before the June 15 deadline—amongst like-minded friends via your e-mail contacts, social media network, etc.
Nick was well loved and one-of-a-kind. He’ll be sorely missed.
-- Jon Hanna
