Dear Editor, Not long ago my son Jon, who is now 35 and in the Air Force, checked the Travis County Appraisal District and told me that the home where he lived in the late 60's with his little brother and my son, Craig Stewart (of SXSW and Emperor Jones Records), was worth quite a bit more than he had expected. I remember the home as quite small and it seemed a steep price to me at $185,000 for 1,100 square feet. I preface this comment to tell you that during the time I lived there, a certain Roky Erickson, of 13th Floor Elevators fame, lived right in the same area. I spent my days, however, as a mother to Craig, and Jon David Stewart, and being a teacher at nearby St. Elmo School. My music ran in the direction of Charlie Pride, or Jim Reeves, more or less, and the 1969 Texas Longhorns were much more exciting to me than “some rock band” called the Elevators. But the fact remains, from the area of Bluebonnet and South Lamar a legend was being created at this time. Right down the street from my house, Roky Erickson, a student at Travis High, was launching his career in the now defunct 13th Floor Elevators. Oh, the "cool" people knew who he was, for they would gather at the New Orleans Club or the Jade Room in the Sixties to hear him scream "You're Gonna Miss Me,” but not this mommy and teacher. Through Craig, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to meet Roky at his 55th birthday party on Sixth Street in 2002, and I've enjoyed his company a few times since then at benefits and dinner at his favorite – Threadgill's on Barton Springs. Those of you who know him are aware of how calm and charismatic he is. He's a breath of fresh air in the complicated Austin of the 21st century. You look at him and marvel at the talent he displayed 35 years ago, cranking out songs like "Living on Monkey Island." Not long ago, my dream came true. I was able to relive what I missed during the late Sixties and watch Roky bravely, and without trepidation, step on the stage to once more, 35 years later, share his talent and genius with all who gathered there at Ruta Maya one hot night last summer. And now, though 61 years old, I can join my voices and scream and jump with the rest who love and adore Roky, no matter what their ages. Ask me to sing any of his songs – I can, you know, and I join with my friend, Lili Lytle [“Postmarks,” Jan. 6], in saying, “I love you, too, Roky”!