Quote: Long before the World Wide Web, blogs, chat rooms, instant messaging, DSL and many other computer feats and jargon we take for granted, there was the Well.

It was an online community when online meant connecting on a phone line at maddeningly slow connections measured in something called bauds. The Well back then was six modems on a rack in the back office of another blast from the past, Sausalito's Whole Earth Catalog. Six modems meant that only six people who dialed into the number -- recalled by an early member as (415) 332-6106 -- could be online at the same time. The technology and the world has changed since those pioneer days, but two decades after the Whole Earth 'Lectronic Link first opened for membership with the caveat "You Own Your Own Words," it's still around, its discussions and members as quirky, progressive, literate and passionate as ever.

To mark its 20th anniversary last Friday, about 100 die-hard members gathered down the road from the Well's original office for a potluck party at the Presidio Yacht Club at Fort Baker.

If ever there was a tribute to yesteryear, this was it. Most were in their 50s and 60s and had let their hair go white. A couple holding hands wore their Grateful Dead T-shirts with the dancing bear emblazoned on their chests. A man in a long beard wore a bandana around his forehead. Tie-dye shirts, Birkenstocks, flip-flops, shoulder bags with fringes. The most modern outfits were a few flannel shirts and a sparkly hot pink blouse from the disco era that the wearer said came from the Salvation Army.

The crowd looked like the stereotype of the Bay Area intellectual and creative community. And, indeed, that's what the Well's community has always been: the writers, artists, geeks, activists and freethinkers who personify the Bay Area.

"It has a real Berkeley vibe to it, for sure," said Robin O'Donnell, 56, an aspiring baker who lives in Berkeley, as he looked around the room.

As they nibbled on homemade hummus, tuna salad and spinach pie, they reminisced about the early days and shared times.

Though they met online, the virtual community has for many become quite real. Most have gotten together often over the years, at monthly parties, at the Well's annual chili cook-off and at earlier anniversary celebrations. They were familiar friends. They networked and found jobs for each other. They've celebrated the news of children's births. They've attended members' funerals. A few who met on the Well have even fallen in love and married.

"The Well has given us camaraderie, support, encouragement," said O'Donnell. "It's a family."

A psychotherapist, 54, who lives in Bernal Heights and wanted to be known in the newspaper only as her sign-on, carolg, said she enjoyed a steamy online romance with a fellow member. Alas, when they met, the magic was not there and "nothing happened." But she has signed on almost everyday since 1987, when she joined to talk with fellow Deadheads.

"You get addicted to it," she said. "I've made a lot of friends."

At its peak a decade ago, the Well had about 10,000 members. Then the Web opened up its worldwide portal, and many went off to explore new adventures and relationships in cyberspace. But the Well, now owned by the publishers of Salon.com, still has about 4,000 members, and the postings on everything from world politics to restaurant recommendations continue to be fast and furious.

The chat rooms for topics are called Conferences. Some are public, but there are some open by invitation only.

"The Well is kind of like high school," said carolg. "There's the 'in' groups and the 'out' groups."

At first, many signed on to get advice on how to work these temperamental contraptions called personal computers. Hoover Chan, 49, the computer administrator for a private school in San Francisco, joined in the Well's first few months. Like most early members, he heard about it by word-of-mouth.

In the early days, Chan recalled, there were mostly only technical questions posted: " 'How do I post messages? There's a question mark on my computer screen, what does that mean?' "

But it was not long before this sense of sharing turned into friendships. Chan said that he has had drinks and dinners all over the world with Well members, known as "Well beings."

A lot of the communal spirit of the Well stems from its earliest administrators. Matthew McClure, 58, known as No. 1 Employee, and John "Tex" Coate, 54, known as No. 2 Employee, had lived together on a communal hippie farm in Tennessee for many years.

Coate, now a Sausalito resident who works for a teen online site, was an auto mechanic at the time and had never used a computer. He got hired to be a kind of social director, to help get the discussions past just computer advice, to talk of politics, religion and, eventually, themselves.

"There were many people who did not have a great social connection" in the real world, he said. "They were free electrons and came to the Well and bonded.

"It came to be seen that this 'community' wasn't just a slogan. It was deeply felt by the people involved."

He looked around the room, and added: "It still is."
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Quote: Originally Posted by NoSlak lived together on a communal hippie farm in Tennessee for many years.

I wonder if thats what they call it.