Woodstock – 50 Years On!
In the summer of 1969, radio DJs were talking about an upcoming fantastic music festival in Woodstock, New York, featuring all the bands and artists I dreamed of seeing. I called a phone number they provided on-air to try to buy tickets. The phone rang off the hook and was never answered. So our little group decided to take our chances and just go.
We drove an old beat up car from Ontario, and through the misty, foggy mountains of New York. Eventually we were stopped by the police, and told in the nicest possible way we could go no further. We were surprised to learn we were 10 miles away from the festival, but the road was closed. We camped overnight and continued the next morning.
Apparently a few cars were allowed to drive in. We hitched a ride: I was positioned on the hood of a car and held onto a flimsy radio antenna for stability. We arrived at the Festival site. The fences were down, there was no ticketing, and people just wandered freely in and about, and picked their place to enjoy the music. From our chosen spot on the big hillside, the stage was visible in the distance, and the music lazily rolled uphill.
What was notable about the event was how carefree and easy it all felt. How important music was, and how – just for a couple of days – capitalism was suspended, social problems, war, inequality put on hold. Community, fresh air, sharing, and music, mostly music, were the key to the future and universe. It felt that way, then, for a weekend at least.
In 2019, I wrote Woodstock Fifty, the opening track on my 2020 album, The Promise.
Oh how I liked your smile
Everything beautiful lasts a little while
You were the angel in the flower dress
In the rain and mud, your hair a mess
The window was open we could float above
High on music in the sea of love
How I wished the feeling could stay
We’re so many miles and fifty years away
We drove all day in fog and rain
The rolling hills of New York State
Into the garden and entered the dream
Barriers were broken, freedom and love the theme
Music rose up the hill in splendour and grace
A celebration of love, a special time and place
How I wished the magic could stay
We’re so many miles and light years away
Looking back over the fleeting years
The dream has faded and sometimes re-appears
We’re water under the bridge, wiser I suppose
When despair rises, I still believe in hope
Here’s a prism to revisit the past
Where is the angel in the flower dress?
How I wished the feeling could stay
We’re so many miles and so many dreams away
© Howard Gladstone August 17, 2019
