ABSTRACT
Jack was on the same wavelength as they were, so it was never necessary to talk. If they wanted to meet the author Jack Kerouac, they would have to read his books. Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, Peter Orlovsky, Larry Rivers, and myself-the 3rd Avenue All-Stars as one wit described us-appeared in it. It was like hearing a whole book of his being read aloud, and Jack was the best reader of his own work, with the exception of Dylan Thomas, that the author ever heard. It was the spring of 1965, and he did not like being in New York. Sometimes he would call from different parts of the country just to talk, and they continued to write to each other. It was what was being said, not how it was said. Most of us here at the Festival and most of our readers were born after Jack died.
