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Woodstock - you had to be there!

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They say if you can remember Woodstock then you weren't there!

For me that’s very true, because during the summer of 1969 – the ‘summer of love’ - I was serving in the British Armed Forces stationed in the Golf – and I assure you, I was not involved in any ‘summer of love’- but I do remember Woodstock!

There were no women around in the Golf in those days – not unless you could the local women, made to cover up with black veils!!

These were the days long before mobile phones, or internet – but we did hear about Woodstock – eventually!! And it sounded ‘way out man’!!

These days, of course, so much has been written about Woodstock and there are plenty of sites were you can get a blow by blow account of the bands such as Jimi Hendrix and Joe Cocker etc.

But I did stumble over this message some time ago – written by someone who was there and I think adds a new dimension.

From Roger:

There won’t be another Elvis, and neither will there be another Woodstock. Not only are there too many laws and local ordinances nowadays, but consider the times: a social consciousness united behind a common cause that filtered its way into the arts, and a country divided over whether we should or shouldn’t be in Vietnam. The event was greater than peace, love, happiness, music and getting back to the country. Each participant shared in and contributed to that almost intangible essence of Woodstock. We were in communion with one another, to greater or lesser degree in sharing the experience, the hopes, the desires, the hedonism and whatever else.

Woodstock was incredible, it was exhilarating,exciting, “Groovy!”, “Far out!”, “Heavy!”, “Dig it!”, “Like, WOW, man!” and much more. These phrases sound so air-headed and trite today, and have been made fun of and parodied, but they were the fashionable lingo of their day. It was also commonplace to hear “Peace, brother” with the hand held up holding fingers in the shape of ‘V’ (upside down peace sign commonly seen on T-shirts) and return the signal. This modern greeting became the equivalent of a handshake. It was a way to signal to someone else that your were ‘hip’ and on the same wavelength.

There was quite a variety of people. There were those trying to be socially responsible for the direction their country was heading and wake up fellow citizens, others were hedonistically irresponsible with drug consumption.

Vietnam Vets, artists, craftsmen, campers, long hairs, short hairs, bikers, young children and babies (few), high scholars, college kids, college grads, hippies, conservatives, etc., variety galore. “Like, wow, man!”

I went to Woodstock with 3 other people. We encountered horrendous traffic about 10 miles away from the site. We eventually arrived and couldn’t find any parking, but were able to park on a resident’s front yard with their permission, for no charge. It was about a 15 minute walk on the road to the concert area. We passed by some roadside stands, and instead of .05 cent glasses of lemonade, a local resident was selling glasses of water for $5.00. Capitalism at work or gouging the public? You decide. Anyway, all the Woodstock townspeople we met were friendly. With all the people that were there, I don’t think anyone wanted to start trouble.

As we neared the Woodstock concert area, we saw people tearing down a partially built fence to the left of the stage (looking at it from the road). There were supposedly too many people; the fence hadn’t been completed so admission was now free. When I first heard that, I wished I hadn’t purchased the tickets, but now after all this time I still have them with the original envelopes and program brochures and wonder how valuable there are or how valuable they might become to another collector.

Looking at the stage from the audience, we had parked our butts on the left side near the top of the hillside, with some bicycles we’d brought by mistake (and took back to the car as soon as possible). From our vantage point you could see quite a vista: lots and lots of people, spread out on blankets, eating food, drinking assorted beverages, making their way slowly through the audience crowds, others still trekking back and forth like a stream of ants on the road.

Lots of long hairs, a fair number of conservative folks too. Vietnam vets, and other hawkish looking people, everyone there to enjoy the Woodstock music and dig the scene. Several food stands were above the hill behind the crowds, and it took us about 20 minutes round trip making your way to and fro just to get a drink or a burger because you had to weave your way around everyone in chairs or on blankets.

Being relatively conservative, we got to see freaks and hippies “pushing the limit”, ostentatiously showing off by being different in dress and behaviour, i.e. walking bare naked down the street in broad daylight. There were some real characters there, and a lot of them drove from thousands of miles away to get there. Lots of tie-dyed shirts, bell bottoms, beads, embroidery, American flags on clothes, peace symbols sewn on jackets, hats, pants, etc. “Groovy!”

It was very exciting seeing all the Woodstock performers. You knew you’d have lots of stories to tell your friends afterwards. Between performers, an announcer would grab the mike and go on and on about stopping the music until the audience members who climbed up on the speaker scaffolding for a better view came back down. Too much weight up there and the whole thing would come crashing down. Luckily, there were no catastrophes like that.

Woodstock Performers like Joan Baez, Jimmy Hendrix, Arlo Gutherie, Country Joe and the Fish, and others, questioned what we were doing as a nation in the Vietnam War. As the music continued, there were kids that probably came just wanting to have a good time and see a lot of cool bands. But, they could observe the peacefulness of those who were against the war and it gave them pause to think. Vietnam Vets who were against the war were influential. “I mean, like wow! I saw this soldier guy who was in Vietnam and even he’s against it!”

Folks undecided on the war effort were probably asking themselves if it were true whether the established culture that sought to enforce conformity and obedience to itself was really just condoning something against God and man, or was it propaganda instigated by the communist influenced SDS (Students for a Democratic Society)? I wonder how many converts there were by the time Woodstock was over. “Power to the people!”

As a comment, the fact that my girlfriend was a dove and vocal about it meant that I would have a better chance with her if I followed her lead and kept my mouth shut and not debate her. Remember the saying that a man will say and do anything to get lucky? “Men are PIGS!” Well, in my case it didn’t make a difference, we were probably the only two people who attended Woodstock that didn’t get high or lucky. I can laugh about it now, but at the time it WASN’T so funny!

My parents treated the 18 year old (me) like I was guilty anyway by the time I got home from Woodstock, thanks to the TV news reporters, and my not spontaneously calling home. “Phones? What phones? I didn’t see any phone booths anywhere near the concert area. It was in the middle of a field in the country for Chrissake! I never said that I was going to call you!” The first thing Dear Old Dad wanted to know was if we shacked up in a motel. I’m sure I wasn’t the only kid who had to deal with ‘THE PARENTS’, and given the third degree (interrogation) when they got back.

Anyway, back to the event.........

Periodically, we’d get up and move around a bit, and you’d see lots of happy smiling people, just diggin’ it. People were experiencing the joyful feeling of getting back to nature; others were considering dropping out of step in a culture imprisoned by the inertia of its own conservatism.

Idealism was in the air (besides marijuana smoke), and maybe what was happening at Woodstock would spread and a quiet revolution (evolution) of sorts would take place, disinvolving the US from the unnecessary war in Vietnam. “Oh wow, that’s far out, man! Peace, brother!”

When the rain came, many people had no umbrellas, raincoats or plastic tarps or other protection from it. People shared what makeshift shelter they had left over while others improvised with cardboard. Everything and everybody got wet. Some places with a lot of foot traffic (near the stage) had mud that was a foot deep. Whatever papers or plastic was on the ground in pathways got pushed into the mud.

Yasgar was probably finding garbage in his Woodstock field for years afterwards. With the rain came cooling temperatures. Ain’t nothing like sitting outside at night getting rained on with drizzle while the temperature begins to chill, while your girlfriend ignores any possible clue about what she might want to do to help handle your hormones and glands that are in an uproar, besides piss you off by flirting with other guys. The rain put a damper on things, but like anything else, some managed to turn even that into something fun: mud sliding down the hill.

Drugs at Woodstock were pretty rampant. Lots of pot was smoked. Yasgur probably had plenty of strange new plants growing in his field, besides the corn or whatever he planted.

Between Woodstock performances, there were frequent announcements over the public address system to be on the lookout for someone who was passing out acid, in ice cubes I think. “Brown Acid. Don’t take it people! It’s bad.” (to paraphrase). The brown clinical acid was bad stuff somehow, and probably about a dozen victims had to be air-lifted out by helicopter medical teams. [Years later, we all heard about the infamous CIA drug experiments on college campuses involving LSD and other drugs, and it makes you wonder if anything like that was going on at Woodstock.]

As the helicopters buzzed by, some were throwing out ‘flowers of peace’, and then landing near the stage to lift out people that were in need of medical attention due to the bad acid or whatever. “Far out!”

“News reporter is my name, scarring people is my game.” As I mentioned earlier, I later found out that all during the event, news reporters were working overtime to scare and horrify the TV viewers by making it sound much more dangerous than it was. Freaking out parents of kids who went there, including the parents of virgin daughters who probably got some grey hairs worrying about their little ‘angel’.

Idle musings after all these years....In the peace movement, lots of people tried to stop the war from continuing. There was lots of media coverage, but also varying levels of frustration and any successes were always drowned out by more war news, death tolls, offences, bombing raids, attacks, etc. Maybe some people tried to slow down supporting the government and culture by disabling themselves via self-destruction with drugs, “dropping out” so they contributed less harm as individuals.

Other people, were just trying pot out, because it was “cool” and lots of their friends were doing it, or were being rebellious and it was their way of demonstrating they’ve ‘joined the other side’. I dunno, but doesn’t sound any worse than any other theories I’ve come across.

My apologies Roger – but I am unable to reference this article as I read and saved it years ago. So you read this, please contact me so I may site you correctly.

Interested to learn more about Woodstock? .... ask Google

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