Memories
From Those Who Were There
====================
Woodstock '69

This page has been made available specifically for all Woodstockers who made their way to Bethel in 1969, and also for those who set out on their journey, but never made it further than the closed NY State Thruway.   

Please feel free to tell your story, share a thought, a memory, or convey perspective that only those who attended that watershed event would know.  

We suggest that you leave your name and e-mail address.  As people visit - and add their notes, this webpage may serve to rekindle a memory or a friendship, on the paths that were crossed that weekend in 1969. 

After all these years…..

Thanks for stopping by, and please come again, soon!  

Date:

11/12/2005

Time:

8:07:32 PM

Remote User:

Comments

Woodstock Then and Now:

THEN:  It was the summer of 1969.  Gasoline cost 28-cents a gallon at the pump, and the attendant pumped it for you.  You could fill your tank for about $5, and while the tank was filling, the attendant washed your windshield and offered to check your oil.  He usually smiled cheerfully. 

Richard M. Nixon was living in the White House. 

Computers cost millions of dollars and were hidden behind thick walls in banks and government building.  No one was allowed inside the “computer room.”  No one had a computer in their home...Or a microwave, cell phone, or even cordless phone. 

There was no AIDS. 

The Beatles were still together making albums. 

I was 18 years old just graduated from high school in Rhode Island.  A high school buddy of mine, Richard, and I went to the Newport Jazz Festival one weekend and saw Led Zeppelin, Johnny Winter, B.B. King, and others.  It was quite amazing to see some guy named Jimmy Page play an electric guitar with a violin bow (Dazed and Confused from Led’s first album). 

A couple weeks later, we read in the local underground newspaper about a festival to be held in New York that would feature an amazing line up of bands:  The Who, Grateful Dead, Sly and the Family Stone, Joe Cocker, Joan Baez, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Iron Butterfly, Jefferson Airplane, Country Joe and the Fish, 10 Years After, and on and on.  We shared this information with our friends and about a dozen of us decided we’d go and check it out.  I had been to New York only once – in 1964 – with my parents to see the World’s Fair when I was 13.  We thought this would be a fun adventure…this thing they called the Woodstock Festival – 3 Days of Peace, Love, and Music. 

We were a bit disappointed that some great bands would not be there.  It would have been nice to see the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Doors, Jethro Tull, Frank Zappa, etc.; but, hey, this was an impressive line up of bands.  A lot more than we had seen at Newport. 

As the time got closer, however, all our friends backed out of going.  But Richard and I were still going to this Woodstock Festival thing.

 In those days, we all hitch-hiked rides to wherever we needed to go.  If you stood out on the highway and stuck out your thumb, within minutes, a “hippie-van” would drive by.  There’d be a long-haired hippie (also called a “freak”) driving, and he/she would stop and pick you up.  You’d make a new friend (even though you’d probably never see him again).  Richard and I figured it would be fun to hitch to this Woodstock festival.

 Our Moms had a different idea.  They wouldn’t let us hitch-hike.  If they knew in advance what they knew a few days after the festival, they probably wouldn’t have let us go at all!  My mom insisted that we take the bus, not hitch-hike.  What a drag, we thought! A Greyhound bus!?!

 We figured we’d pretend to go along with our parents’ plan, and then just hitch a ride on our own when we were out of their sight.

 No such luck.  My mom insisted on giving Richard and me a ride to the Greyhound station.  She made sure we bought our bus tickets and watched us climb up the steps to get on the bus.  She waved goodbye as the Greyhound puffed and snorted its way out of the Providence Rhode Island station heading for New York City.  It was about 8am on Friday morning, August 15, 1969.  Richard and I had a few sandwiches our Moms made for us, and a couple sleeping bags.  We also had our tickets safely tucked away in a pocket of our bell-bottom jeans.

 Turned out, the bus was an excellent idea.  (Thanks, Mom!)  We had to go to New York City then make a connection onto another bus that would take us to a little New York town we’d never heard of - called Bethel.  Or was it White Lake?  We didn’t know, but the old bus driver guy knew where to let us off.  Turned out, this second bus from New York City to Bethel was filled with hippie-freaks.  We were “home on the bus” – with 50 of our best friends we’d never met before – all heading to the same festival together, rapping and sharing on the bus.

 We had no idea what roads we were on geographically.  Only that we were going to this “Woodstock Festival” to see some good music groups.  When the bus driver told us all to get off, we all piled out of the bus.  It was about 3pm.  ((We had no idea at the time that this was the intersection of Route 17b and Hurd Road)).

 There was a “package store” (a place to buy beer) right at the stop.  Since the drinking age in Rhode Island at that time was 21, but in New York was 18, I was able to buy my first legal beer.  There were dozens of freaks in the package store buying beer, and the store owner didn’t even raise the price to take advantage of good business.  Everyone was cool.  Even the Establishment.

 Richard and I (my name is John, by the way) were thirsty and enjoyed the beer as we walked up a road (Hurd Road heading toward West Shore Road, but we didn’t know it at the time) this hot summer day toward the festival field.  There were hundreds of other freaks walking along with us.  Not crammed shoulder-to-shoulder, but a great bunch of friendly freaks all strolling up the road coming to listen to the music groups.  A few tables were set up on the side of the road with signs selling hash, LSD, mescaline, THC tabs and other forms of entertainment out of huge mason jars the size you see at deli sandwich joints where they sell pickles and hot peppers – about $2 a hit.  Electricity was in the air as we all felt such closeness with all the other hippies even before entering the festival grounds.

 A couple blocks up the road, some people told us the festival had become a free concert, and we should just walk over to the right and up over the little hill, over a small fence (which was lying down on the ground), to the stage area.  I had already bought a ticket ($18 for the whole weekend – what a deal, even at 1969 prices), but we walked over the hill anyway.  We figured we’d avoid the line at the ticket gate. 

When we topped the hill, we had a view of the festival field.  The stage was in plain sight, and there were thousands (maybe 10s of thousands) of people sitting comfortably on the soft ground facing the stage.  Richard and I just stood there in awe at the number of people and the beauty of the hill, and the closeness and clarity of the stage, and the size of the speakers and scaffolding.  We silently took it all in, each of us thinking “I’m glad we came to this after all.”  After a few moments, we turned to each other and said “Wow, a lot of people came to this concert.”  Yes, it was a lot bigger than Newport!

 We settled into a comfortable plot of real estate, faced the stage, and introduced ourselves to our neighbors.  There was an aura of peace, love, camaraderie, and sharing, on this clear, pleasant Friday afternoon.  Within about a half hour, the music started playing.

  The rest is history.

 It was really something special to have heard Arlo Guthrie tell us that “the New York State Thruway is closed, Man” and to hear just how scared Crosby, Stills, and Nash were to be playing in front of so many people.  On Sunday morning, when they announced they would be serving “breakfast in bed…” thanks to Wavy Gravy and the Hog Farm Hippie Commune, we slowly worked our way toward the food, stopping at the Port-o-Sans on the way. 

We met a nice couple on Sunday evening who gave us a ride back to New York City.  We left Festival Field at midnight Sunday night, so we missed Jimi Hendrix’s Monday morning performance – bummer (I never did get to see him live, since he died a couple years later, along with Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin).  When we returned to Providence on Monday, our parents – who had been reading and listening to the news -- asked us about the “disaster area” the “sea of mud” and the deaths, drugs, lack of food, torrential rain, etc., and asked us desperately if we were OK.  We hadn’t heard much about this negative stuff since we weren’t spending the weekend reading the newspapers.  Sure it rained, but that didn’t seem to interfere with the love, peace, music, and amazing experience we’d had that weekend.  We informed our parents that it was perhaps the best weekend of our lives, and we were just fine, thank you.  As it turned out, that experience left us never to be the same again………

NOW:  It was the summer of 2004. 

In 35 years, I had never been back to the site of that Festival.  A “lifetime” has gone by for me.  I’m 53 years old now.  Spent four years in college after high school graduation, completed a masters degree in graduate school, taught high school math for five years, moved to Virginia, and built a career in information technology and information security for 26 years, got married, have four incredible children, ran 3 marathon races, and am now approaching retirement. 

But Woodstock has never left my blood.  I’m still a hippie at heart, though I’ve grown more conservative in some ways as I’ve aged.  I guess the necessity of being a responsible husband, father, mentor to the younger generation, and responsible contributor to our great country and my local community has tempered some of my wildness. 

This year, I thought I’d make the pilgrimage back to Bethel…back to the garden…to the reunion at Roy and Jeryl’s place – the homestead of Max Yasgur…visit the original site…maybe buy beer again at that package store (if it’s still there)…walk up the road and look at the field again…listen to the music at the Reunion…chat with the returning hippie freaks…play some guitar music reminiscent of the Woodstock Generation 1969 era.

 This time it was different.  Thanks to the Internet, I was able to connect with Roy and Jeryl and their web site, join the Internet chat rooms, join the Woodstock1969 e-group, and find suitable accommodations at a local hotel (since there was dispute as to whether it was legal to “camp.”)  I have to admit, at this point in my life, I didn’t want to sleep on stony ground, in the mud, in the rain, not having a shower, etc.  I stayed at a chain hotel in Liberty – about 10 miles from Bethel.  Glad I did, too, ‘cause it rained and got real muddy.  The hotel had a nice, free breakfast included and a good, strong, hot shower, as well as a comfortable bed.  I went with an adult friend of mine who was too young to have gone to the original Woodstock Festival, but who shares the Woodstock mentality.  Our wives and children would not have been interested in joining us.

 The people at the reunion were wonderful. It was organized, safe, well-appointed, plenty of vendor food, easy access in and out, secure, legal, controlled (though not oppressive).  It was great to see Yasgur’s homestead, sit on the field, mingle with the campers, listen to the music in the camp area, and generally stroll around.

 We also took a ride up Hurd Rd. and stood at the Woodstock Memorial.  It was breath-taking to see the festival field again after 35 years.  It struck me how much it looked the same.  That is, the land contour was unchanged.  This time, it was quiet and peaceful.  No one else was there.  It was almost a religious experience to stand in the quiet and take it all in.  I could find the approximate place on the hill where Richard and I had sat 35 years ago.  I could mentally walk the path from our place on the hill to the Hog Farm hippie commune to get the food they distributed on Sunday morning.  I could see where the stage had been set up and where all the bands played so long ago.  I took a couple pictures.  After awhile, another car drove up and three people got out to see the site.  We chatted for awhile about the old times, and then we returned to the Reunion site.

 I don’t know that I’d go back again.  But, I am certainly glad to have returned to that geographical site and that place in my heart.  Woodstock is a place we carry with us wherever we go.

 I guess in some ways, you can take me out of Woodstock, but you can’t take Woodstock out of me.

John

Date:

11/17/2005

Time:

11:46:47 PM

Remote User:

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Me and my best friend were new comers to this country, we both came to the State of MD in 1966. We new very little about woodstock festival. Our only dream was to hear Hendrix play his guitar, an instrument that we both play a little since we are Hispanics, we also like the music of Crosby, Still, Nash and young and of course our idol Carlos Santana. Never imagin that simple us at that time were small part of such big unforgetable festival that made history........Yes we remember exactly what was happening in the USA and the world in 1969. seeking the peace and love as we still strive for, ever since, and today. This memory will always bring a tear to our eyes........of joy and sadness. keep up the good work and make it a great day!!! my email is ecastellanos48@hotmail.com my name is enrique castellanos

Date:

2/7/2006

Time:

5:44:09 AM

Remote User:

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The time was 1969...Love was in the air...A people came together at a gathering..through rain and cold...endured..For the love of peace and music..It was our time...It was beautiful..Everyone was beautiful to each other..As the crowds listened to the bands ...Never knowing it would go down in history/ as a concert of love and peace...We were free.....Anyone who has seen the film Woodstock can tell how much love feeled the air..And so it was Bunsmac

Date:

2/7/2006

Time:

2:12:29 PM

Remote User:

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I was only 10 yrs. old.....wished I was older!

Date:

2/7/2006

Time:

12:02:52 PM

Remote User:

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The summer of 69 was special... Four friends from Westchester Miami. Bob Del Pozo, Mike Lawson, Skip Hitt & Ross Bloomfield traveled from Miami Fla. to New York to see and experiance the music that made those three day's a life time memory. Again in 1998 I traveled to revisit the site... A Day In The Garden. My family along with stage manager Mitch ( Londo ) Fennell who was a stage hand @ the 69 festival.We spent three day's on site listening to a new generation of Musicains along with some of the original Musicians.. Ten Years After, Peter Townshend & Joni Mitchel performed. Thank you & keep up the great work.....Yes it was special for those of us that attended in 69.

Date:

2/10/2006

Time:

12:36:02 AM

Remote User:

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Wow , Im 56 years old now and tears come to my eyes as I looked over some of these pictures. The summer of 69 I was 20 and it was such a wonderful time in life. Dear God, Please make it all go away now and bring back the good times. Times of love times of laughter times not to ever be forgotten, and I haven't. I hope some day that God will bring us all together again for those good times once more. Music , it is a wonderful thing, lets not ever forget Woodstock .....Peace , .....jimbo

Date:

3/27/2006

Time:

8:50:58 PM

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It is unfortunate that i was born many years after Woodstock took place, i'm only 16 and look at pictures my uncle George has from the event. I wish I could have been there.john rio

Date:

5/17/2006

Time:

11:15:48 AM

Remote User:

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Peace and love. What a wonderful link, I will pass it on too. It's refreshing to see that there are people keeing the 60's alive. I still wear my Levi 501's and peace signs. My personal email is thelilacflower@yahoo.com Donna Any vegetarians out there come and see us. We have recipes for you. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/vegetarian_group/

Date:

5/23/2006

Time:

9:24:14 AM

Remote User:

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I heard mitch passed...is this true? We were friends in Miami... Many good times together...great guy...

Date:

6/9/2006

Time:

10:40:05 PM

Remote User:

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I went to woodstock with two wonderful ladies. We had made explicit arrangements to hook up with with a bunch of friends when we got there. Needless to say, those arrangements to park at a specified place at the "official parking lot" listed in the info you got when you bought tickets (yes we really bought tickets) were useless. The only person I ran into while at the festival was the father of some friends of mine. He had gone up several days in advance and parked his pick up camper near the pond where folks were skinny dippin'. He had come equiped with plenty of food and a case of wine. He was having the time of his life. I have so many incredible memories of an event that was and is one of the most fantastic experiences of my life. I turned 18 on Sunday August 18th, 1969. What a birthday! Peace, Edwin 2Trees

Date:

8/3/2006

Time:

1:11:42 PM

Remote User:

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The calendar's pages is flipped to August so we are rolling up to the 37th anniversary, insert one cosmic "Wow!" I still have my 3 day ticket, now under glass, with a reprinted poster, and the official festival program, which I fished out of the mud on the long trek out of the festival grounds, Monday, August 18. It still is stained with the muck, mire, and mud of that legendary weekend.. And I still retain my memories of it,too. I went with three friends from our itlle Mass. hometown, driven into the fesitval site by another pal in a borrowed Pontiac Firebird. He turned around and drove against all that traffic to return the car before it was missed. We switched from hitching east back into Mass to heading south to NYC as so much traffic went that way. It still tokk us an extra day of walking & thumbing to make the short trip into the city and a bus ride home. My major memories are: Going to sleep that Friday night, in the open air ina sleeping bag, having made the comment, "This'll be fun, if it doesn't rain". I was there to see Cocker, the Band, the Dead, and Jeff Beck. Beck was billed but didn't play. And of course Dylan, who wasn't billed, but we all knew he would play since we were in his backyard The mud, the rain, the mud. Woodstock, the Movie, was better than the concert beacuse it was less crowded, and drier.....but Sly and Santana got us ALL dancing. Two weeks later, to the day, I was having my long hair shaved off,and I was inducted into the US Air Force, where I eventually fought the Hash Wars in Germany..and saw Jeff Beck. Peace to all in the Woodstock Noation, may your lives be full of that ineffable joy we experienced in '69 when we realised there were an awful lot of "us". And may your clothes be dry. Craig Roche mrkite1@cox.net

Date:

8/3/2006

Time:

10:50:28 PM

Remote User:

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Afterward, we walked a few hours to find my VW bug. It had been pushed down toward a ravine, apparently to make room for another parker. A bunch of guys and one really beautiful girl that I still dream about actually lifted and moved my VW up to the road's shoulder. Everything beforehand is kinda too difficult to describe, except .... We made it home to West Virginia and everybody, all six of us in the bug, graduated from college. A couple of years later, the bug rotted down, but I still feel guilty about not saving it. I wanted a VW bus at the time and an artist friend had painted one for me that I couldn't refuse. It had an eyeball on the front and Sgt. Pepper everyplace else. My first novel was published in June, 2006 -- took a while. If you went to Woodstock or appreciate its heritage, I'm confident that "Rarity from the Hollow"will help you get off. Robert Eggleton

Date:

8/5/2006

Time:

11:58:10 AM

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I am looking to find some original woodstockers for some like minded e mailing, and also I am interested in going back to the farm in 09' and will gladly join in lending a hand if any reunion is planned. This is important to me - any info will be appreciated. thanks- anita aandkinfla@earthlink.net

  Date:

8/30/2006

Time:

8:30:40 PM

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A painted VW bus, not much food, but plenty of grass-so many friends new and otherwise-it was an experience of a lifetime-something we will never see the likes of again-I am glad I was there-I am glad I have the memories-Diana-diana.drugas@comcast.net

 Date:

9/3/2006

Time:

4:25:36 AM

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Very interesting.

Date:

9/3/2006

Time:

5:54:59 PM

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Hi.....My roommates and I got to the end of the driveway and the van broke. We wouldn't have made it anyway. But for the rest of my life (some still to come I hope) Woodstock has been a touchstone, an inspiration and the source of fabulous music memories. A part of me will always be there...even if I didn't physically make it. It remains a living, breathing part of my generation.... cheers...don murray...london, canada.

Subj: Guest book  
Date: 12/2/2006 11:03:04 PM Eastern Standard Time 
From: cheftate@sbcglobal.net 
To: joann1108@aol.com 

I was 16 and fast coming of age. Living at home in a very protected and emotionally barren environment, eager for a taste of the world. I knew the world around me was changing and that school was just the same old narrow road my two older brothers had unthinkingly and unconsciously trudged before me with likely no other intention but to go on to college and become like everyone else. I knew I was going to turn out differently. I did. I never got to Woodstock but I know, now, that Woodstock represented then, as it does today, the possibility that we could live as one, that music was that timeless and limitless in its power to bring people together and, yes, even change the world. I am 53 year old today and Woodstock is in every living cell in my body in every iota of me being in what it has become to me. Woodstock is gone but our efforts to change the world and make it a safe and sane place for those after us has become our responsibility and shall be our living legacy in the work we do now, or fail to based on our intentions and mindfullness to the importance of change and the perpetuation of the light of pure love.
 
Brian Reis
Foster City, CA
 
BR
 
"Egy Az Isten"

Subj: Long Live The Spirit of Woodstock  
Date: 12/14/2006 5:02:55 PM Eastern Standard Time 
From: 
To: joann1108@aol.com 
Sent from the Internet (Details) 

I will forever cherish the sights, sounds, spirit and love that Woodstock
generated for myself and my generation until I leave this earth. No other
generation held peace up for the world to see than ours. We should remain
proud of our efforts and never give up on spreading the spirit of Woodstock
to all we touch in life. ­ Jeri Boucher, Ramona, CA

Subj: A poem for the 40th ann. of THE SUMMER OF LOVE  
Date: 6/21/2007 7:04:08 AM Eastern Daylight Time 



Hello everybody,
 I wanted to share my latest poem with you all in honor of the 40th anniversary of the SUMMER OF LOVE. Not all of you were there, but I'm sure you can grasp the feeling which was in the air.
Have a great summer may all good things happen to you and yours, peace,love,music,TommyPurpleHaze

Flashing back to the Summer of Love
 
Do you remember 1967, the summer of love?
The peace sign was more than a symbol, a dove.
The 60’s movement was becoming clear. 
Freedom of speech was in full gear.
Far out, groovy and freaky were part of our lingo.
With a little help from my friends was good for Ringo.
Sgt. Pepper told the band to play.
Tune in, turn on, and drop out were the way.
Monterey Pop festival was the first of it’s kind.
A variety of drugs just blew your mind.
Jimi Hendrix created Purple Haze.
Timothy Leary tripped on acid for days.
Haight Ashbury had such a scene.
The Vietnam war was so very mean.
Psychedelic music put us in the groove.
Anyone stone free, till you could not move?
Tye dye clothing was very cool.
Long haired hippies were the rule.
Fancy colored artwork was vivid and real.
Be-in’s and Love-in’s were all around.
Progressive rock became the sound.
Flower power made us smile.
Free love was fun for a while.
As we flash back to 40 years in rhyme,
Peace, love and music should be in our time.
 
By  TommyPurpleHaze,  June 21, 2007

Subj: Woodstock  
Date: 7/12/2007 12:20:01 PM Eastern Daylight Time 

I tried to attend, but the New York thruway was closed. My buddies and I ended up at Geneva at the Lake. JME

Subj: woodstock  
Date: 7/29/2007 9:19:12 AM Eastern Daylight Time 


Hitch hiked there as a 15 year old with my friend Bob W from Kearny,NJ,we got there 2 days before festival watched them build the stage etc. One of my favorite memories was 1st night when Sly & the Family Stone were playing & I remeber evertbody up & dancing & I could've sworn I could feel the ground shake. Biggest regret was leaving early Sunday afternoon & missing the Band & Crosby Stills & Nash. Keep up the good work
                                                                                                                         Greg H

Subj: A WOODSTOCK poem  
Date: 8/15/2007 1:35:50 AM Eastern Daylight Time 
 
This is a poem  defining the true Woodstock spirit. It was 38 years ago today Woodstock happened.

LOVE IS...

Love is...
Thinking of someone and caring,
Being with someone and sharing.
Love is...
Keeping close when times are sad,
Forgiving when things are really bad.
Love is...
Laughing and enjoying all the fun,
Smiling and feeling the rays of the sun.
Love is...
Crying and weeping about things that are dear,
Holding and hugging, going on without fear.
Love is...
Going to your favorite places,
Seeing each other with happy faces.
Love is...
Never walking around with a frown,
Or ever feeling to blue or down.
Love is...
Hearing what those near to you say,
Understanding rewards you in every way.
Love is...
Not letting yourselves grow far apart,
Staying friendly with all of your heart.
Love is...
Gathering around the garden of peace,
The Woodstock spirit will never cease.

TommyPurpleHaze
www.myspace.com/drumsfromheaven

Subj: 38 yrs ago today!  
Date: 8/15/2007 9:12:33 AM Eastern Daylight Time 

Tomorrow afternoon (the 15th of August) is the 38th anniversary of the downbeat of a mythical concert at White Lake in Bethel.  We all know that it was a legendary financial failure.  Other than the sheer size of the crowd, it was not unprecedented.  The Monterey Pop Festival in June of 1967 laid the foundation for Woodstock with many of the same performers, including Hendrix, The Who and all those joplin and dead-like airplane bands from Frisco.  Four ambitious, opportunistic young men hoped to have some fun and make a little bread for a studio they wanted to build in Woodstock.  Little did they know how much opposition they'd face from town fathers who feared being inundated by America's passionate young people.  A renegade dairy farmer named Max Yasgar opened up his land for the event just as the moon felt its first human footprint.  There was less than a month to build a stage and put up the fences.  They didn't get around to the latter.  It was a mess!  When the rains came everyone was covered in mud.  The promoters took a beating and the crowd got soaked.  What's the big deal about this festival?
Well, for a multitude of reasons, we, and the press who printed the words and pictures, chose to give it significance.  Start with the music.  The line-up was mind-boggling.  It was peaceful, but that should have been expected.  It was, after all, a peace festival. The four hundred thousand that attended the 4 day event was the same number as our combined troop strength, our friends and young contemporaries, who were serving in Viet Nam.   Our hats were off to them and we wanted them home!  We had an unusually unified set of values, and needed somewhere to wave that flag together and celebrate our cause.  We knew there was strength in numbers and we had the numbers.  And the volume.
Now it's all myth, memories, and subjective historical fabrications.  Let me add to that soup of truth and misinformation my own emotion-laden observations.  I didn't attend, but part of me is still there.  It was an amazing time, we stood for something, and we made a difference.  Period!

Jim Ratts
www.runawayexpress.com 

Subj: Woodstock memories  
Date: 8/17/2007 10:12:28 AM Eastern Daylight Time 


My brother Gene (Rick) Barnes and his classmate Tom Mucceri ( my appologies to Tom if I mispelled his name, ) having just graduated that year from The Stony Brook School, decided to go to the concert. Tom's father worked in NYC for an advertising firm that was handling the concert. He got them tickets and this poster. They left from our house in Fanwood, NJ in Tom's Triumph Spitfire. I begged to go but since the car was a 2 seater there wasn't much chance of my going from the start. Rick  is 2 years older and sometimes little brothers are left behind. The memory of what day they left and how they went or the details are gone from my memory, (as are a lot of things from that time frame, too many dead brain cells). I knew that it was going to be a great concert but spent the weekend watching the news about what went on in NY. On the NBC News one day, they had pictures of the traffic jam and mud and there on the screen was Rick and Tom in his Spitfire, stuck in the mud with people sitting all over  the car.  I yelled for my parents to come see and just that fast, it was gone. In the day long before VCRs or Tivo, the image was lost forever, except in my memory. When Rick and Tom got back a few days later they seemed a little shell shocked. I can't remember Rick talking about the details of what they experienced. It was as if they were reluctant to talk about the experience. It was as if , "you weren't there so you wouldn't understand."  I guess I can know what they meant.
 
Through the years after I seemed to have been affected by the Woodstock experience as much as one can be , from afar. The next year I couldn't wait for the album to come out. I listened to it until I knew ever nuance of the sound-track by heart. I saw the movie at least 3 times. I always remember how I missed the bus by not going. In 1970 I went to school in Britian. At Christmas I went on a ski trip to Austria. On New Year's Day, 1971, while stumbling down the snow covered road of the town after the bar my friends and I were celebrating in, closed. We were singing the "Fixing to Die Rag" that Country Joe and the Fish sang. (Being 18 yrs old and  1-A , I wasn't a supporter of the VietNam war. ) . So my friends and I were stumbling down the road, slipping, holding on to each other, having had a few beers, singing at the top of our lungs..." One...Two..Three..Four... What are we fighting for?.".  A voice in the distance, another group of revelers yelled.... Ya..  Voodstock...Voodstock!! Ya  Ya!!  They were speaking German, and none of could speak more than enough to find the bathroom or order a beer. But there we were singing together in the middle of the street, in the middle of the night about something that had happened a year and a half ago. I was toasted but I will remember that time for all of my life.
I made a point to try to go to as many of Rock festivals that I could over the next few years. His included the one in 1972 at the Pocono Raceway with JGiles, Edgar Winter and Humble Pie and many others that I can't remember. I went to the Watkins Glen concert in 1973, which they say ,was a larger crowd than Woodstock. We got stuck in tremendous traffic jams, camped in people's yards ,met many beautiful people (ah ,the girl in the Daisy Dukes, what was your name?) and of course it rained on both concerts. I'm sure that the attempt to recreate the feeling that was at Woodstock, was a dream that was never fully realized. 
 
Well , thanks for all of the neat pictures on your web site. Lot's of luck on your task to preserve the conert site. It has as much historical value as any in the country. For the millions of our generation , who attended, or just wanted to, the Woodstock nation still lives.
 
 
Larry Barnes

Subj: sign my name in your guest book  
Date: 8/18/2007 10:34:43 PM Eastern Daylight Time 

domenick nuzzi dob 10/19/1947   we were on our way ,
but turned back, and never made it there!  i visited
two years ago and felt that i was there anyway!

Subj: I was there.  
Date: 10/8/2007 1:10:57 PM Eastern Daylight Time

Hey man,

I was there in 69.  we has "ALL AREA" security badges so I was backstage alot.  Also helped out in the trip tent some.

Be cool,  Michael