From that first shower on, he was the man who enabled us to endure. During the times of disaster to come, if there was any one person who kept things together, it was Chip Monck, who served among other things as one of the stage announcers. I don’t know if you’d agree with me or not, but after attending nearly half a million rock concerts I think I can safely conclude one thing about stage announcers——they’re all assholes. Except Chip Monck. He had the kind of voice you’d want your father to have, very well modulated, very calm and knowing. Anyone who listened to him could not help but feel comforted, even as the rain pelted the festival without mercy. Whether he was killing time between groups, telling us not to take the brown acid, giving directions to the first aid tent, or simply telling Joe Blow to call home, he was always in control. There were many others who spoke to us from that vast wooden ship over its Olympian sound system but no one contributed more to Woodstock by his mere presence than Chip Monck.
                                                                 (Excerpt from "Ten Years After" by: Howard Smead)