In 1969 my new girlfriend (later my wife) Barbara and I were spending our first summer together on Long Island, NY. We were working as maids at a tennis resort in the Hamptons. It was there where we first saw the posters advertising the Festival of love and music. So many fine musicians, all gathered in one place. I was really into Crosby Stills and Nash, Tim Hardin and of course Janis and Sly and Hendrix too. There was no doubt that we would be attending the event.

We drove our VW beetle as close as we could get to the site, but I remember walking a long way through corn fields high over our heads. Some people were picking corn off the stalks and chowing down as we slogged onward. When we arrived at the entrance they were still trying to sell tickets, but shortly there after it was declared a free concert and the chain link fence came down. We flowed, with the sea of humanity into the festival grounds.

It was Saturday afternoon that my unusual experience began. I remember quite distinctly the circumstances. I was in the main stage arena bowl, when I was alerted to the fact that someone had just been run over by a tractor towing a large water supply cylinder just behind were I was standing. Sure enough the wheel of the heavy water load was right on top of the individual in a sleeping bag! I noticed, almost simultaneously, a butterfly flittering around a girl doing a frolicsome dance, unaware that this tragedy had occurred less than 10 feet away. The dichotomy between this tragic event (the only death at the event) and the gaiety of the festive girl, left such a memorable mark on my psyche.

Peace and love, Terry G Green