Roc Ahrensdorf (16 years old, 1969)

Hi--Both my husband and I were at Woodstock-We arrived Friday and left Monday am. Somewhere we have our tickets we never turned in. W A few things we remember  are the incessant rain, the mud, mist on the cornfields and Jimmy Hendrix performing the national anthem early, early Monday am--we could hear it on our way to the site and wondered what/who it was.    I have more memories if you'd like.   We ended up getting married  4 years later and are running the family farm, Clarkdale.--Becky Clark

Yes, I was there.  Arrived Friday afternoon in Bethel NY, coming from Bellows Falls, Vt.  The venture began when I was 19 years old and walking along a street in BF on Thursday evening, just hanging out.  A friend stopped me and asked if I would like to go to a "big party".  I said sure and hopped in the car.  I hadn't heard about Woodstock but he apparently had.  We started driving to NY state that night.  We met a lot of people at rest areas and gas stations who were also headed there.  Even though we didn't know were the festival was, everyone said to just keep driving and you can't miss it.  And they right--the traffic was getting backed up miles before the site.  We eventual abandoned our car as it was quicker to walk than take a chance on having our car overheat--a fate that was happening to many vehicles.  It was a very hot and humid day and after what seemed like many miles of walking with thousands of people (all the while threading our way through the cars), my friend and I were getting tired and thirsty.  We had noticed, while walking, a dark grey Lincoln Continental with NY plates that read: CBS.  It would pull up next to us when the traffic was moving and then fall behind when things slowed up.  This kept up for some time.  Finally my friend said that we should ask them for a ride as there were only two dudes in the front seat and it was apparent that they had A/C as the windows were up.  The passenger, a man whose dark short hair matched his black shirt and pants, lowered the window after my friend tapped on it, and listened to our plea for a little break from the heat.  "Sure, why not," he said, "hop in."  We jumped in the back and told them we were from Vermont. 

Good news, they had heard of it.  (This was 1969 and not everyone in the US had heard of or new of Vermont.)  The driver, who had long hair and was wearing what appeared to be a fur hat or tuke? similar to the one that John Phillips wore with the M&Ps, was driving with his feet up on the seat, and in between his legs was a paper bag of grapes, which he was munching on.  He said they were there to cover the event.  They never said who they were connected with--though the license plate clearly read CBS.  We chatted for about a half an hour, or until we had cooled down, and then we decided to keep walking as it was still faster than the car.  During the whole time we were in the traffic, people would attempt to jump on the hood and trunk of this shiny Continental and the passenger would lower his window and forcefully tell them to keep off.  This was very amusing to us because later we would see the vehicle just covered in people as it tried to make it around the area.  As we neared the actual festival site a young man on the hood of a car coming from the other way, was calling out that he had tickets for Friday nite for 10 bucks.  My friend said that we should buy a couple of tickets as he didn't have any, and once we were in we would figure out the next two days.  So, we bought two tickets, only to find out just a mile down the road that we did not need them as there was no fence in place or person to take the tickets.  Our first rip-off!  Then someone coming the other way was shouting out that he had acid for sale and this was just the kind of event for it. 

So, we bought two tabs of blue colored acid for 5 bucks a piece.  We later took the acid and it made us sick.  Second rip-off! and we hadn't even got to the site yet.  My friend had a small pup type tent with him and we pitched it in a small field close to the actual area where the music was.  We left the field and joined the throng of people heading up the dirt road.  The people were walking 3-4 abreast going into the site and 3-4 abreast coming from the site.  The mass of people moving back and forth never seemed to lessen for the two days we were there.  Constant movement.  My friend and I left on Saturday evening as the big rain was coming.  We were wet, tired, hungry and thirsty, and feeling sick from whatever we had taken.  We smoked a ton of pot but didn't seem to help.  Everyone had some kind of dope with them and some people were openly selling whatever they had.  No sign of cops or anything like that.  We felt we were lucky to still have our lives and whits about us when we decided to leave.  We had listened to some great music, smoked alot of pot, even met some friends from Bellows Falls that had been there since Thursday (how wierd is that, in a half million people?)  but we had been back to the tent to rest and smoke some pot in between sets in the evening and as it was getting dark we decided to head back to the music.  We no sooner had left our tent when over this low stone wall came a farm tractor that proceeded to drive eratically into the field and run right over our tent, and flattened it!  The same tent we had been in just moments before!   Well, I have more stories, but I'm afraid I'm running out of time.  Not all peace and love for my friend and me.

Thanks for listening, Paul Rush.

I was 16 in 1969, and here is my story of going to Woodstock. A friend and I took off for Woodstock in his VW bug. We had packed food, sleeping bags, etc. and headed off from Weston, CT.  We got no more than a few miles down I-95, when we hit bumper to bumper traffic due to construction, during which we literally hit the bumper of the car in front of us.  It did nothing to that guy's car, but it smashed in the front of the bug.

The car was still quite drivable, so we were mixed how to handle it. Do we go and say it happened on the way back; or do we call his parents and see what they say? Well, in case the other people happened to call, we decided to call his parents. Of course, they said come right home.

I was home grumbling about everything, when my mom said "Just go! I won't get any peace if you stay home." So, I hopped in my Corvair, grabbed all of the food, etc, and took off that Friday by myself.

I stuck it out in traffic for hours until I was finally told to park in a field.  I went up to a soda stand to get a coke, when the guy said sternly "Do you have a ticket?" I said "No", (worried he would say I can't get in), and he said "Great! You don't need one!"

I had managed to park within a mile of the place!  I grabbed what I could carry and walked up to the site.  I found a place to set up a lean-to in the woods just at the top of the field.  I got my sleeping bag and everything set and went back to the car for food and anything else I might need.  I even set up a small campfire in front of the lean-to.  I was able to hear everything quite well from there, so I didn't really need to go out in the throngs unless I wanted to see the bands.

The woods were full of trails with names like "Groovy Way", or "Far Out Path".  At each intersection there were people selling all kinds of recreational drugs like pot, hash, acid, etc.  Everything was right out in the open.  It was quite a scene!

At one point, some people asked if they could share my fire.  I said "Sure!", so they set up camp there.  When it started raining, I crashed in my sleeping bag for a while.  When I woke up, my little camp fire had become a large blaze with many people standing around drying out blankets, clothes, etc.  It was amazing how well everyone got along together.

I had a good set up where I was, so I pretty much stayed near my camp.  I would sleep off and on, catching different sets along the way.  I finally woke up Monday morning around 10am to hear Hendrix play the "Star Spangled Banner". What a way to wake up!  By then there was maybe only around 30,000 people left, which seems like a lot, but compared to what had been there, it seemed empty.  After Hendrix finished, I packed up everything and headed home.  The traffic home wasn't bad.  It was interesting to see all of the wanderers along the way looking for friends, or their car, etc.   Enjoy, Roc Ahrensdorf

Well let me start off by saying I was unfortunately not at woodstock. i was only 7, and my parents were not the Hippie type. But I do have a memory that I want to share that is Woodstock related. It is one of my favorite memories of my Dad. We were driving through town where I grew up, Meriden, Ct, and I remember there were what seemed like an enormous group of- well at the time I didn't know what to make of them- now I know they were Hippies, all camped out at the train station. I have a vague memory that they were trying to get somewhere, or back from somewhere, and were stranded. My Dad drove to McDonalds and bought bags and bags and bags of food, and brought it to the young people. I seem to remember they were very grateful. I just have the memory of thinking "boy my Dad is cool!"

thanks,

Beth Bellavance-Grace

I was 17 and had just graduated Granby High School.  A small group of us heard about the festival, told our parents we were going camping to hear music and headed out in one of our parent's station wagons.  We left on Wednesday (2 days before it started. The roads were packed with cars.  We had the station wagon back down and played guitar and sang to and with others on the road as we moved along slowly on our way there.

When we arrived we set up our tiny tent and went to the concert site which was some distance.  There was one road near the site where people  walked up and down talking to one another and those we met .  Excitement was building and at some point word spread amongst us that the news was calling Woodstock "A disaster area."  We thought that was very 'groovy'.  Most of us had our tickets except one who purchased hers (we thought luckily) on Friday afternoon, just before it was announced that it was going to be a free concert.

We were able to get pretty close up, but still probably had hundreds in front of us.  Being so young and fresh we thought it was the greatest.  We had packed A lunch with A watermelon.  That's pretty much all we ate, but who cared. When Richie Havens finally opened the concert on Friday late afternoon, we were in our glory.  Highlights for me included Richie, Sly and the Family Stone with outragious white fringe on that almost lit up the night stage, Country Joe and the Fish, Santana playing for the first time together and on and on--too many to name.  I have to say that one of the most magical moments was when Melanie came on and all 500,000 people lit a match.  I looked back at the crowd to see the mountain light up.   It was such a spiritual, magical moment.

Of course the rain, then mud came, but for most of us it was still magic.  Some people say it was just R&R and sex, but I can tell you that it was Spiritual  and at times blissful listening to the performers and the constant messages of Peace and Love.  Even the bad acid announcement was given with love and without panic.  People helped one another.  There was no anger.  We were tired, but never downhearted. Somehow we all became one and overcame challenges together with the focus always being on Love, Peace and making it work together.

Thanks for listening.--Beth Caurant