I had just turned 18 on Aug 3rd. My mother let me go to Woodstock, because my big brother (age 21) was going with me- boy was that a mistake! 4 of us ( my best friend, and my brothers friend) got into a Volkswagon 1968 Beetle at 5pm and began our journey.

We didn't have tickets for the event- but felt drawn to be part of the whole scene. We drove thru the night, and on the morning of Aug 15th as the sun rose- and we became stuck in a huge traffic back up, we realized many people were doing what we were.

We drove as far as we could, decided to park the car & start walking to the venue. The walk would take 3 hours, into a sea of people . That was the last time I saw my big brother until Monday morning.

We walked as far into the sea of people seated at the concert, and sat down on a blanket we brought- only to find another Buffalonian we knew sitting next to us. We were not prepared for camping- we had no coolers, sleeping bags or food. When the rains came, it was sheer determination that kept us still there. To this day- I cannot stand to get soaking wet!

I will never forget the people in their hippie garb, the drugs, and the music above all. Sometimes you have to do what is against better judgement, and this time, I was glad I did!

Peace & Love!