Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Woodstock Anniversary

Ah, Woodstock. Such a legend that it seems unreal. My husband came thisclose to attending (joining? celebrating? experiencing?) Woodstock and somehow wound up in Canada instead. But I have a friend who was there and kindly agreed to share a first-hand experience of the country's most famous music festival:
"We arrived Friday night, seven of us riding in a Volkswagen Bug from New York City. We couldn’t reach the concert so left our car along the side of a dirt road and walked along with hundreds of others. From far away we could hear Joan Baez’s voice ringing out through the night. It was raining and we saw this shed so we camped there. The next morning we walked on to the concert and found a place on the hillside to listen to the music. We were a long way from the stage but it didn’t seem to matter. Late that afternoon my friends took off except for this guy named Tom, who had ridden with us. All through the night the music played. I remember trying to stay awake to hear the Jefferson Airplane. I think they were playing about the time the sun came up. My friends never came back, so later Tom and I wandered around just seeing all the people. We ran across some friends of Tom’s from New York Public Library and they fed us breakfast. Later that afternoon we decided to walk out to the road and see if we could hitch back to the city. We walked through this little town where all the people were making sandwiches in their front yards and giving them out to kids leaving the concert."
Oh, to be young.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

A very sweet reminiscence