Gregg Larrison of Tombstone, Arizona, Remembers Woodstock, Then and Now

It was the best of times and the worst of times. Jack and Bobby Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King were dead, martyred by assassinations. It was the decade of the War in Vietnam, of moon landings, the Civil Rights Movement, campus revolts, progressive politics, drug experimentation, the search for universal brotherhood, and the overwhelming spell of Rock Music. In the summer of 1969, some 500,000 young people gathered to celebrate peace, love and music in the green pasture of a dairy farm in upstate New York. This event was to change American culture forever and become the mantra for a new generation: Woodstock.

Dubbed The Woodstock Aquarian Music and Art Fair by its organizers, the original 1969 Woodstock Festival experience in Bethel, New York, literally chartered the course of lives and attitudes for a great many of those who attended. Tombstone, Arizona, resident Gregg Larrison is one of them.

In August 2009, exactly 40 years later, the official Woodstock 40th Reunion was held in the same pasture near Bethel, revisited by many of the first-time festival-goers, with their children and their grandchildren. They came for the music but also to pay homage to the ideas still held years later. And again Larrison was among them.

That summer of 1969, Gregg was 18 years old and living in Coco Beach, Florida. "Music was very important," he recalls. Now 57, he spoke enthusiastically of those times as we talked over breakfast at a local restaurant in Tombstone. "The rumor then was of a music festival at Bob Dylan's farm in Woodstock, New York."

An avid FM radio listener, Larrison heard news of the upcoming celebration and saw posters in supermarket windows announcing the event.

Larrison and a couple of buddies, Dave Grace and Bill Lomitola, travelled first to Atlanta for a music festival then on to Indiana to stay with a group of friends near his hometown. His friend Bill had met a girl and stayed behind in Atlanta.

" A guy showed up one day and asked if anyone wanted to go to the Woodstock festival. He had a 1965 International Scout, and a bunch of us piled in. There were 9 people and a German Shepherd. People sat cannonball style on the floor of the Scout. Two sat on the tailgate with hands up over the roof, and during the trip, we rotated seats. For a while, I had the best seat, which was the passenger seat next to the Shepherd. It rained all the way there."

When they arrived in Scranton, New York, Gregg recalls, he had about $20.00 in his pocket. "We ate ketchup sandwiches," laughs Larrison.

One of his buddies was with his girlfriend on the trip, and proceeded to kiss her in public. A town constable saw the public display of affection, and warned them of 'lewd and lascivious behavior."

As the travelers neared their destination, the road narrowed into farm roads. "You had to pull off the road to let other cars pass. We were out in the boonies," When they arrived, everyone went their separate ways, disappearing into the vast ocean of outrageously dressed people, never to be seen again.

"We were up all night," Larrison recalls. "We had no blankets, no sleeping bags--just the clothes on our backs. We didn't have a designated campsite. We walked around, taking it all in, and sat around peoples' fires. Somebody gave me a loaf of bread. People shared everything they had. When it rained, people that had big pieces of plastic let others get under to stay dry."

Larrison related that there was a group of folks from The Hog Farm commune in New Mexico who were at Woodstock to help with security. They arrived in old buses, and set up a free chow line where they served oatmeal for breakfast. Larrison ate lots of oatmeal.

There was no bottled water back then, but water was provided by Max Yasgur, the farmer who owned the land where Woodstock took place. Larrison remembers drinking water from a tin can.

Larrison especially recalls the music, which included top bands and performers such as Santana, Canned Heat, Jefferson Airplane, the Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin Credence Clearwater Revival, Blood Sweat and Tears, Joan Baez, Country Joe and the Fish, The Who, and Jimmy Hendrix, and many more. The performers were flown in by helicopters, arriving next to a long wooden ramp running from the hillside to the giant Main Stage.

Abbey Hoffman showed up, too, and when he took the stage and began trying to instigate a political rally in the middle of a rock concert, fans shouted him down. Peter Townsend from The Who bodily dragged Hoffman from the stage. No one wanted to think about politics that weekend; they were there to relax, have fun, and listen to the music.

John Sebastian from the popular band Lovin' Spoonful was there as a spectator. At one point, Larrison relates, the music lineup was set back and some of the performers arrived late. Sebastian borrowed a cheap guitar (a $59.95 Harmony?) and held forth with a crowd-pleasing performance until the next act arrived.

Friday, the first day, "was a beautiful fall day," He remembers. A major rainstorm hit Saturday, and "we were covered in mud. I still had my $20.00, but money had no significance." Larrison and his friend Dave scouted the woods behind the stage, and found a little creek. "We washed up in the creek, took a bath, and dried our clothes on a stick. We felt much better--until we discovered we were covered with leeches. We had little black leeches all over us. We managed to scrape them off with sticks, and finally with a wooden board we found."

Woodstock definitely had an influence on my life," Larrison said after a quiet moment. "I remember that there was no 'attitude.' In my life, I've seen riots, fights-but I saw no fights, no burning of flags. People shared their food, drinks, people helped each other. I remember feeling: This is the way it should be. I came away from Woodstock believing that now the world would be changed forever. It was the '60s-a time you could be anything you wanted to be. I was 18 years old. Surely people could see, this is the way to live."

It started with a text message on a cell phone from his brother, Warren Good, in Indiana.

"Going to Woodstock?"

Amused, Larrison responded, "You're a little late."

Then he received an email from a friend telling about plans for the Woodstock 40th year Reunion. An article in Rolling Stone magazine about the Reunion peaked Larrison's interest.

Bob Camporeale, a friend of his brother in New York, emailed Larrison with a message: "Bring a sleeping bag, a tent... the rest will be taken care of."

Larrison thought, "Are you for real?"

August 2009 found Larrison, who hates to fly, on a plane to Indianapolis. His wife, Ruth, stayed behind due to work commitments.

His brother, an attorney, met him at the airport and they drove to Shelbyville, Indiana. It was Monday. Larrison visited friends while Good wrapped up his court cases in preparation for the drive to Woodstock on Wednesday. When Wednesday rolled around, Good and Larrison were ready to go, but Good's wife hadn't returned home. After a couple hours, she arrived. She was getting a pedicure-toenails painted red, white and blue especially for the event.

This time, Gregg Larrison arrived at Woodstock in a GMC Suv hauling a pop-up trailer. He was eager to see the place again after forty years. Coming in on the road, "I was amazed and happy that the location had some significance." There were flags flying; the farm field had been transformed into park-like grounds with a museum, new stage and a new pavilion designed to hold 17,000 people. "I had tears in my eyes. I was overwhelmed by memories."

And the music was still magical after all those years. Among the bands who performed were Big Brother and the Holding Company, Ten Years After with Alvin Lee, Canned Heat, Country Joe McDonald, Jefferson Starship, Leslie West and Mountain, Tom Constanten, keyboard player for the Grateful Dead, and Levon Helm, drummer for The Band. The 40th Reunion of Woodstock took place August 15, 16 and 17, 2009, attended by around 80,000 people.

"For me, says Larrison, "the Reunion was a confirmation that the Woodstock experience was real, that I had not wasted my life thinking about those ideals. It upheld a form of reverence for the memory of those young kids whose lives started on that road..."