I communicated with Arnold Gassan at some time in the last few years of the 1990's. He sent me a very interesting story about his meeting up with Minor and Walter Chappelle. The material in the story (entitled "The Dialogue That Failed") was quite illuminating for myself, personally, because it filled in a lot of blanks and explained to a certain extent the origins of my own historical pathways. There were references in it to people I knew or knew of, and it shed a good deal of light on Minor's introduction to Gurdjieff's teachings (which occurred through Chappelle's agency). The story reflected Gassan's disillusionment with Minor, his spirituality, his legacy, and especially of Walter. Gassan and I knew some of the same people and had very different experiences with them. I could certainly understand his point of view, however. At the time, he had retired from his professorship at Ohio U, moved to Arizona, and had changed profession, becoming a psychologist.
At the time I was first involved in the workshops, Minor was either on his way (via Capitol Reef) to Colorado to do a workshop that Gassan had organized or had just come from there, I can't remember which. Gassan refers to that workshop in the story. I believe that it figured into the rift that eventually developed between the two men.
We've moved since I last saw the copy of that story, so unfortunately, I don't have it at hand. One day, I'm sure it will turn up.
My first job in photography (with the exception of processing film for the Reed College Public Information Office) was as Minor's assistant in the 1965 Portland Workshops. He wrote me a check for $50.
The prior year, he had driven out with Brad Hindson as his assistant, but that was the last year that he drove. In 1965, he flew to Portland alone. I was with him in the lobby of the Portland Art Museum when he got the call on the public phone confirming his appointment at MIT. That year, also, his heart condition was diagnosed, again in Portland.
My new wife of the time (life goes on) and I met up with him in San Francisco and stayed with him in a flat over a liquor store in the Filmore that was occupied by a very interesting trio, including the Reverend Katagiri (of whom Natalie Goldberg subsequently wrote). The other two were students at the SF Zen Center, where Katagiri was the second priest. My wife answered the phone once when we were alone in the flat. She said "It was Ansel. He asked to speak with the Great White Father."