My Three Days of Peace and Music
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10 responses to “My Three Days of Peace and Music”
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Everyone alive then has thought of where they were at the time and what they heard from those they knew who actually got to Woodstock. A great reminiscence, Peter — brings back memories of what I was told at the time. Could not leave my Navy ship in Charleston, so covered duties for friends who could — which saved them from heaps of trouble because their planned 3-day jaunt turned into nearly a week before they could extricate themselves from New York and return. No cell phones and few personal cameras to bring back photos, but lots of vivid impressions.
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We had been on family vacation in New England and were returning, mainly on 81, that weekend. But mainly I remember that weekend because of Camille and what it did to Nelson, Amherst and Albemarle. We drove through some of that rain. Thoughts turn to those not around for either anniversary….Glad you got to be there, Peter.
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Steve,
It was an important part of my life. I am not sure what your point is since you were, at the time, a few years younger than I was. What is your point? Virginia-specific? You went through a hurricane? I am not a Virginian although I choose to live here. Neither is Bacon, actually. But I have chosen to live here as I have a right to do and I will make my points as I want and if you have a problem, well too bad.
By the way, I am puzzled on another story regarding Fuller. Your comments on “ad hominem” attacks regarding Steve Fuller?.What do you mean by that? I studied Latin for two years in high school and served Latin Mass as an altar boy back in the day. I do not actually have a good sense of Latin but I don’t think you do either, especially with this “ad hominem” stuff. How can I be making at anti-personal attack against someone when the Post has already written about it and raised the issue? What’s your point?-
Fantastic reminiscences. Very vivid. Great writing.
However, I did not see Steve’s comment as a put-down. I’m not sure why you responded as if it was. He was just remembering where he was when he heard about Woodstock, that’s all.
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Following along with Acbar, that was my “where were you that weekend” remembrance. That’s all. It is an interesting historical footnote that Camille and Woodstock overlapped, and the book on the Nelson County flood opens with that, as I recall. Texas-born, Virginian on my mother’s side….
You have my solemn oath, I will never comment on one of your posts again, if you make me the same pledge. Now that we’re both in our mid 60s, this “I’m older than you are” and “I worked on a better paper than you” schtick is a bit lame. Does “arrogant” have a Latin root?
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Very well written, Peter! Thank You!
In 1969 – I was either working at a Phillips 66 service station or the Shoe Dept at Leggetts and thinking that Woodstock would become iconic and with that many people and likey few or no porta-johns – it had to be poo-city but hippies were that way… it was “cool…. man………”
And I do remember Camille – it tore up Nelson County.
And I suspect that Conservative types don’t see Woodstock in the same light as more normal type folks…… 😉
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Oh, the young lady in that photo has universal appeal, Larry. You should meet some actual conservatives – clearly you never have….
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Hitching rides around British Isles that August, I missed Woodstock altogether. Caught a great ride on the M-I outside London to the just over Scottish Border from a Scott who had carried his homing pigeons over the Channel to Cherbourg, France, released them there, and was racing home to meet them. Next, over the border, I got a lift in a Yellow Rolls Royce whose owner had driven it from Burma, his last Army post. He dropped me off in the middle of the Edinburgh Festival where I got enthralled with Group Grope, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and Camino Real, all of which cost next to nothing to see. Got home in September, and only then heard about Woodstock, so went from Tennessee Williams to Janis Joplin.
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You all led much more interesting lives than I. I spent the summer of 1969 working at the Montgomery Ward catalog house in St. Paul. I opened big cartons of sheets, towels and draperies; filed bins; repacked the remainders in smaller boxes; filled out records indicating what was in each box and their location in the warehouse and finally put them in storage. But a job was a job.
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Tmt. Thanks for the comment. Two summers later on college break i was in an eastern north carolina swamp waist deep in water helping build docks , getting horribly burned by the sun and creosote and worried about cottonmouths.it made Woodstock seem pleasant
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