I was 17 years old that summer of 1969, living in Queens, New York.
My boyfriend and a few other friends had decided to get tickets to this rock festival upstate. We packed a car intending to drive there but later Thursday night, the car, with all our stuff for the weekend, was stolen!
So off we went to Grand Central Station to take a bus to Woodstock.
There was so much traffic that the bus let us off a few miles from the festival. I had nothing but a jacket and a can of tuna. (Remember, I was just 17). I lost the person who was carrying my jacket and didn’t have a can opener.
My group of friends had planned to meet behind the stage and – miraculously – we found each other. During the rain storm I took shelter at the Hog Farm, sharing a blanket with someone with pneumonia. They gave us dry oatmeal to eat and water so it would expand in our stomachs.
The music was amazing, the energy and love was strong, and it was probably one of the most memorable times of my life. I still have my Woodstock tickets which have a printed price of $6.50 each.
I read Greg’s story and can’t believe a member of Country Joe and Fish is right here in Yellow Springs!
I loved that group.