It all started in the summer of '69. My old man and old lady sadly split. Daddy O decided to split the scene and go truckin out east. By coincidence he was asked to deliver a new pick up to Toronto. My old man worked for a contracting company. So my brother, myself, and Daddy O packed and fled the scene. By some strange coincidence we left the first week of August. During our trip, we crashed in various motels, and virtually lived out of our suitcases. Along the way we met some groovy people.

As we were entering Ontario, my old man decides to exit South towards the border. Once in New York state, we head down the I90 thruway South. Before we know it, we are at Yazgir's farm. From what I remember, there were lots of people, rain and mud, and very groovy tunes coming from these little speakers. They were attached to some tall stands. This was all accomplished by some "loving" hands, in order to try and accomodate my old man, myself, my brother, and the rest of us 400,000 to hear the groovy music, from a far distance from the stage.

The rest is history. What an experience. Three days of peace, love, and groovy music.