All Around Pennsauken

By Judith Kristen, AAP Columnist

“Well, I came upon a Child of God, he was walkin’ along the road and I asked him, ‘Tell me where are you going?’ This he told me.”

“Woodstock” – Lyrics by Joni Mitchell

And where “he” was going, along with a half a million others, including me, was a place in Bethel, N.Y.; Max Yasgur’s farm to be exact, just about 40 miles south of a name that the whole world would recognize before the three-day “Aquarian Exposition” was over. It was called “Woodstock.”

It’s hard for me to fathom that those three days of peace and love is celebrating its 50th anniversary this month!

Somehow, even when I typed that, 1969 still doesn’t feel all that long ago to me. Maybe it’s because so much good stuff from that time stayed with me all of these years, so it never really left in the first place.

But, despite the “Peace and Love” credo of our beloved 1960s, it was a tumultuous time. Even at Woodstock, as one can expect, when there are 500,000 plus teenagers and twenty-somethings, things went awry there as well. Too much alcohol and other substances were the usual suspects. But overall, for me, it was one of the most beautiful and fulfilling learning experiences of my life.

I arrived at the festival relatively unprepared. I wasn’t sure if I would stay the full three days or not, but I decided to go with the flow and that would be that.

I wore my favorite peasant blouse and bell-bottoms, with real jingle bells pinned into the underside of the bottom of my pants, so they would jingle when I walked. I loved the happy sound of them! I also wore three strands of beads around my neck, bangle bracelets, and a very cool headband that my mother actually sewed for me! And to complete my outfit, I wore a groovy pair of sandals.

The weather went from very warm to extremely hot and humid. And then it rained, it stopped, and then it rained some more. Mother Nature may not have been cooperating with us, but the music more than made up for it.

Richie Havens started it all off; there were many acts that few would recall: Sweetwater, Ten Years After, Country Joe and the Fish. But the big guns were also there: Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, The Who, Joe Cocker, and The Grateful Dead, along with Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, who played their first-ever gig together.

And, here’s something that makes me shake my head, considering the cost of concert tickets and what the major stars of today make at just one performance. Added up all together, Jimi, Janis, The Dead, The Who, Joe Cocker, and CSN&Y made just a little over $35,000 dollars, in total, for their entire time at Woodstock. Paul McCartney alone makes more than that selling t-shirts in the first 10 minutes of one of his concert these days!

But, besides the music, the weather, and me personally cleaning up at least 20 pounds of trash from the grounds, here’s what I really took away from the “happening.”

I met people who were kind and caring; who asked your name and where you were from; who shared ideas, hopes and dreams, and their vulnerabilities. People who also shared their very last sandwich with me, when I had run out of everything I’d brought with me.

People walked by you and gave you a hug, sang to you, danced with you, said “I love you;” and others who would hand you a flower, or place one lovingly in your hair. And those famous peace signs, that live on to this very day, were in extraordinarily, plentiful supply.

So, here is what I was left with in that hot and muggy August of 1969. I had songs to sing in my head for the rest of my days. I took in love and kindness, compassion, and an ease with being vulnerable, genuine, and hopeful. I learned that if you truly engage with others, you find out as much about yourself as you do about them. I also found that most people really are good souls who want a kinder and gentler life for their loved ones, our global family, and all its creatures, great and small.

I don’t know where people I met at Woodstock are now, but my bell-bottoms are certainly long gone; and so are many of the musicians who played for us for three days.

And yet… the whole scene still rings a very, very beautiful bell inside my head. My guess is that it always will.

Thanks, Max.

Peace and love… and then some.

~ Judy