In 1965 teenager Jim Williams looked like he was on his way up. Having obtained a patent before graduation, and with summer work and college waiting, little did he know thirty years later, he would be destitute and airing his public disputes with invisible companions.
Or then, after five years of openly arguing with himself, he would be brutally beaten into a coma and left to die.
No longer on the streets following his stay at San Francisco General Hospital, he would connect with the physicians of the Outpatient Clinic where he’s seen to this day. Staff would see him through his drinking, his heart attacks, his rejection by the Psychosocial Dept for therapy, and aid him with his manuscript.
Jim now lives on his own in a studio apartment in San Francisco.