In 1981 William S. Burroughs moved to Lawrence. His life and my family’s intersected twice. The first time, he came to my house and threatened to shoot me for chasing his beloved cats in front of his house on Learnard Avenue. He knew my name by the t-shirts my grandparents had gotten me when I became John Proctor. The second was when he took up residence at my grandparents’ bungalow on Lone Star Lake. Every day, he rowed our old boat to the center of that muddy lake and convalesced. His manager bought it from my grandpa for $29,000. After Burroughs died, that bungalow was sold on eBay for $159,950.


Digitized from "Burroughs & Son," originally published in Numero Cinq , May 2010

AuthorJohn Proctor