Woodstock

As Roger watched the news he became more and more disturbed. What is this world coming to? he thought. Another war and another terrorist attack made the headlines. Even locally there was violence and hatred being reported. Again, Roger thought to himself, maybe it’s a good thing I won’t remember any of this by morning. His short-term memory was making life more and more difficult for him. Trying to remember basic life skills and recalling recent conversations and events was one of the most difficult things for him now. Even though Roger was only in his late seventies, dementia was taking a toll on him. He needed assistance at this stage in his life. A maid came in twice a week to perform cleaning duties in the apartment and a physical therapist helped keep Roger somewhat active.  Most importantly, a personal assistant helped him daily with basic life skills and chores – things Roger could no longer remember to do for himself.  But as Roger looked down at the tattered ticket in his hand, memories came flooding back. Thank goodness I can still remember things from my younger days, Roger thought. The ticket for Woodstock was the only keepsake he had from the event. Roger still had the ticket because they were not collected at the entrance gate; an entrance that never stood a chance against the hundreds of thousands who showed up. The ticket was full of bends and creases from being carried in his pocket that weekend. Roger remembered it raining the entire time, turning the venue into a large mud bowl. The water stains and dried mud on the ticket were evidence of those arduous conditions he endured all in the name of peace, love and music. The concert, held in 1969 in Bethel NY., became regarded as an iconic moment in popular music. It was promoted as an Aquarian Exposition for the young generation who could have three days of peace and music. It turned out to be just that and Roger was so happy he could remember the details of this defining event.  

Roger immediately recalled the trip to the concert. A long drive, and due to traffic issues, was cut short just before they arrived. Leaving his car on the side of the highway, a long walk took them to the venue. Roger made the four-hour excursion with Marissa, his girlfriend at the time. Marissa was a free soul who participated in countercultural activism regularly. She participated in the civil rights movement and attended many Vietnam war protests. Also, being part of the Youth International Party, Marissa considered herself a ‘yippie’.  All this in the name of civil rights and social justice, so Woodstock was an event she could not miss. Roger was not an activist with the passion and ferocity of Marissa but tagged along for the experiences. He enjoyed the ride while it lasted but it really wasn’t his vice.  

Their late arrival to the festival brought them to hear the classical Indian music of Ravi Shankar. Roger clearly remembered the strange sounds of the sitar, his instrument of choice.  He also recalled his immediate concerns of spending the weekend in the uncomfortable rainy conditions, but he did survive with wonderful memories. Looking around at the vast open field, with bodies strewn everywhere, their first task was trying to claim a piece of real-estate to bunker down for the weekend. Finding a dry comfortable spot was almost impossible but sitting uphill alleviated some of the flooding that most people experienced. In the end it really didn’t matter as everyone and everything was saturated in mud. Roger and Marissa settled down on their blanket about 500 metres from the stage – a massive structure that was the focal point of the event. Off in the distance, away from the stage, was a forested area with a large body of water. People had already started skinny dipping and enjoying the freedom that epitomized the theme of the festival. Roger thought, why go swimming when I was already soak and wet from the rain.

The drugs of choice were acid and weed but Roger, being a more conservative and cautious person, did not partake in any of it. He felt more comfortable having his full wits about him to enjoy the concert. Marissa did not have the same view as Roger and consumed more than her share of psychedelic drugs. Her long blonde hair laden with flowers and her loosely fitted tie-dyed top confirmed the hippie look she was going for. Roger remembered losing Marissa on the second day and not finding her again until they were leaving. She didn’t remember anything about the weekend but knew she had enjoyed herself. Roger sensed they would not be a couple after this excursion and he was correct. He had a good chuckle at the hypocrisy when Marissa went on to be the CEO of a multinational corporation once she finished school and started her career.

From Richie Havens to Santana. The Grateful Dead to Joe Cocker, Roger thought about all the musicians he enjoyed. He was able to recall all the acts and remembered each song they sang.  Quite an accomplishment considering he couldn’t remember the name of his neighbour or what he had for breakfast.  He sat comfortably on his living room couch, closed his eyes and imagined he was back in 1969 at Woodstock. Remembering the thousands of people around him, their clothing, the dancing and singing and the overall joy that he observed. This brought a big smile to his face. Even the terrible weather, the poor washroom conditions and the lack of food didn’t hinder anyone’s spirits.  What Roger remembered was the sharing and caring that took place. What little food and water that was available was shared.  Those who took ill were quickly cared for in the makeshift medical tents.  Everyone seemed to lend a helping hand when and where it was needed. Roger thought, what a wonderful and memorable weekend considering the conditions. It was the ideology and philosophy of life at the time. Peace and love were the answers.

Roger believed the reports of there being 400 000 people at the festival and attests to the fact that it was marked with a peaceful and loving environment. This many people spending three days together in deplorable conditions made it an iconic event that the world could learn from. As Roger opened his eyes and once again viewed the violence and problems of the world reported on the news, he took a deep breath and hoped – hoped the world could experience another Woodstock.