Yes, I was at Woodstock. It was a pretty fantastic time. Hung mostly with Dave Duryea - lost Frank Colin and Don Lowry somewhere. Peter Mac rode his motorcycle right to the middle of the hillside so you can spot him in some of the pictures. Someone from Suffern, I can’t remember who, was hanging off the big speaker scaffolds and had to be removed. Saturday night I remember as a high point that lasted all night. Sly Stone, Janis Joplin, capped with the Who singing "See Me, Feel Me" as the sun came up. I had never seen that many people, let alone kids, in one place. After it was over, everyone dispersed. All 500,000.
Me too. I wasn't going back to that lame-ass summer job, and for months there was a great feeling in the air… of “if you can help someone out, do it.” There was a feeling that you could build a social system on these principles. As I hitched around Massachusetts, you didn’t need to ask if someone was at Woodstock; it didn’t matter. We were all part of the generation, and shared something. Some of my best days. Later, after a few months, I returned home from school to find most of the dads had grown their hair longer, everyone was wearing hip aviator glasses, and the Mall had store displays featuring headbands and ponchos. It was the beginning of the end.
