Elsa Gidlow and Druid Heights
In I Come with My Songs, the autobiography of Elsa Gidlow, she describes her friend Ella Young like this:
Ella Young’s whole appearance was of a high spirituality, something bright and translucent shone outward from her. As Colum said, she had the air of an initiate. But there was also earthiness and a quiet strength. No puritanism. She appreciated good wine, well-prepared simple food, the enhancements of life by art and artistry. She not only wrote poetry, poetry singing also through her prose, she lived poetry. It was her conviction that there must be leisure not alone for great thought, noble deeds, but for the aesthetics of daily living—no unnecessary luxury, but a living close to the heart of things. She was not for a moment unaware of our dependence upon all life, the aliveness even of stones, of a pervasive consciousness.
All of this is beautifully expressed in a taped interview which I arranged toward the end of her life. As she grew more frail, her heart weakening, though never her indomitable spirit, I felt there should be recordings of her speaking in her own voice, the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. At the time, KPFA, a remarkable radio station (listener-sponsored) had been founded in Berkeley. I was so impressed with its quality and absence of commercials that I did volunteer work for it, getting to know some of the activists there. I suggested to them that they send someone to record Ella young. As usual, they were lacking in staff, money, or equipment for such an enterprise. If I could bring her to their studio…
She balked at that, travel having become too exhausting. But finally I was able to persuade her to accompany me to my home. KPFA’s excellent commentator, Wallace Hamilton, came to my house with massive equipment and we spent several hours before the fire in my study while she read her poetry.
With the tape on, and myself at the controls in an anteroom, Wally prompted her to talk with a few sensitive questions, seeking an expression of her philosophy. He had read her books and knew what to ask.
Ella was led into a discourse on communicating with trees, mountains, wild animals, and coming into harmony with the spirit of sacred places. With a smile, Wally played it back for her. She was amazed. She had not known that their talk was being recorded. Later, she said to me, “He was such a nice young man, I thought he just wanted to know.” But she was delighted that it was on tape. And so was I, having played it for any number of enchanted listeners. Friends at KPFA later told me it was for years one of their most asked-for programs. As much as anything in her writings, that interview reveals what she simply calls “the kinship with the Earth.” She had that kinship in a profound sense. I have known her, feeling tired or less well, to lie down on the Earth, put herself in touch with its vibrations and rise feeling renewed. —Elsa Gidlow, I Come with My Songs
Elsa Gidlow bought a property in Marin County in 1954 where she established an “unintentional community.” She named it Druid Heights, perhaps in homage to Ella Young and the people drawn to it. After her death, she intended for her land to become a retreat for women writers, but the property was added to the national park system via eminent domain.

