Daily Dose for August 15, 2007
By Bruce Warren, Program Director for WXPN
Today is the 38th anniversary of Woodstock.
It took place on August 15-18th, 1969 in Bethel, New York, 50 miles from the “real” Woodstock. I wasn’t there. I was at overnight camp that summer, barely 11 years old. I remember my counselor Joey took his days off to go and came back completely crazy and turned our bunk on to The Who. Two days later he freaked out and left and the head of the camp gave us what was my first lecture on the evils of drugs.
In yesterday’s Daily Dose I said that more people have said they were at Woodstock than were really there. History works in funny, weird ways like that. So, I’ll ask you – and be honest – Were You There? If you were, then please share you memories with us. If not, make one up. No one is really going to know.
Here’s some great moments from that crazy, important and significant concert event.
Jefferson Airplane - “White Rabbit”
Jimi Hendrix - “Fire”
Santana - “Soul Sacrifice”
Richie Havens - “Strawberry Fields Forever”
Crosby, Stills & Nash - “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes”
The Band - “The Weight”
The Grateful Dead - “Lovelight”
Creedence Clearwater Revival - “Born On The Bayou”
For more classic Woodstock performances and the incredible August 19, 1969 “Dick Cavett Show” roundup featuring Stephen Stills, Joni Mitchell, Janis Joplin, and Jefferson Airplane, read today’s Remember This? post.
I had just turned 12, and our family was back in upstate NY after 18 months in Oregon/California. Apollo 11 had just landed on the moon not a month before, and the success and worldwide TV broadcast of that event had seemed to add to the optimistic utopian feelings yearned for at that time, countering the strife both here at home and in VietNam, streamed daily on those same TVs on the nightly news.
The things I can remember clearly are the local AM radio news reports from that weekend; The NYS thruway clogged and closed, the mass of people decending on the little town, the stormy weather, and the almost miraculous way that all those ingredients managed to avoid even a hint of tragedy - a validation that the ideals of the new generation were possible.
That fall, In Junior High, those new possibilities continued to inffluence my concepts of the future.
But by the end of the year, in Altamont, a harsh and ugly tide was finding it’s strength.
August 15th, 2007 at 10:18 amI had just graduated from high school, and was a major “weekend hippy,” so I just assumed I’d be allowed to go to Woodstock. Imagine my surprise when my mother told me that my assumption was all wrong. I was allowed to attend protest marches against the war, freely roamed the streets of New York City on my own, and was actually living on my own (attending summer college classes to atone for bad math prep in high school). So, the logical conclusion was that there’d be no argument against my joining 400,000 of my closest friends in the massive mudpile of Woodstock. My mother learned of my plan when I hung up the phone with a friend and said, “I’m going up to Woodstock, okay?” as I ran by her to grab a bag for the trip. We spent the rest of the weekend fighting about it, although I admit history has proven her right not to let me go. It didn’t stop me from claiming for years that I had gone—”It was muddy. It was rainy. I was miserable”—was the way I described “being” there.
August 20th, 2007 at 5:06 pm