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Fourteen and Free: My Woodstock Summer of 1969 By: RLT By: RLT Chapter 1
I was a whole fourteen years old in August 1969, I felt I was old enough to take on the world. Maybe I was and maybe I wasn't. I already ran away 3 times from home because of disagreements with my Momma. I had already jumped a train at the locks and went over the Canadian border once and made it back without a scratch, just dirty as heck laying on a bed of black coal all night but seen some beautiful country, something you don’t see in the city of Avalon, my hometown.
So why not try this adventure, an adventure of a lifetime, Woodstock! So, for one unforgettable weekend, my friend Debbie Bracken and I did exactly that. We left our little hometown of Avalon, Pennsylvania, just outside Pittsburgh on the Ohio River, with a wild idea in our heads and a determination that only two girls, one fourteen-year-old and one sixteen could have had. We were going to Woodstock. A 6-hour drive if we were lucky enough to get a ride, heck it was only 350 miles away.
We figured if we couldn’t get a ride, it probley would take us a day to walk it….ha-ha….yea right. Little did we know, 350 miles was a long way. We were just thinking that the school was 1 mile from home times walking there 350 times may take us all day, but we could do it. The school wasn’t a mile even though it felt like it every day we walked to school and definitely didn’t think of the hills and things but we were determined to make it to Woodstock hell or high water. Just that thought made us feel like we were super women.
With just one change of clothes in our bags and a few things to munch on, we started off on our great adventure We didn't have a fancy car, we didn’t even drive. We didn't have a hotel reservation along the way or our parents' permission to go and, truthfully, we didn't have much money. We had about $10.00 each if I’m remembering right. Plus, our golden tickets that I think cost us around $15.00 each. But what we had was each other, a little courage, and the feeling that something extraordinary was waiting for us somewhere up the road in New York.
So, we played hooky from school on Friday. We started hitch hiking as soon as we were out of Avalon heading to Downtown. Debbie Bracken told her parents she was staying at a friend's house. I told my parents I was staying at my friend, Jeanie Z house and Jeanie— my wonderful friend—agreed to cover for me. Jeanie couldn't go with us, because she was grounded that weekend but instead of making us feel bad about it, she helped us make our adventure possible.
If you knew Jeanie, that was the kind of friend, she was. I wish she were still here. Jeanie and Debbie were both taken to heaven far too soon, I just connected back with both of them a few years ago and there are so many times I wish I could sit down with them now after not seeing each other since 1972 and tell them how much their friendship meant to me. Can you hear me now ladies? I Love you, my Beautiful Forever Friends.
At fourteen, I didn't realize how precious these little things were. I just knew I was going to Woodstock, a dream come true. It had been talked about for weeks on T.V. Debbie and I hitchhiked our way out of Avalon. When I think about that now, I shake my head. Two young girls hitchhiking hundreds of miles to a music festival, thinking if we couldn’t get a ride, we could walk the 350 miles in a day!
What were we thinking? But in 1969, the world felt different than it does now. There was a spirit of adventure everywhere. People were traveling, music was changing, nobody hated anyone and young people were looking for something new. And we were looking for something new, Woodstock. Eventually we made our way to Ohio River Boulevard and the McKees Rocks Bridge. That is where our lives took a turn we could never have predicted. A young couple stopped for us. They had a little two-year-old girl with them.
They had a pretty cool baby blue Volkswagen bus. Not just an ordinary Volkswagen bus, either. This one was the prettiest blue and had big, beautiful flowers painted all over it, saying “Love, Peace & USA”. It looked like a Woodstock bus before we had even arrived there. We climbed in. I don't remember exactly what we said or how we introduced ourselves, but I remember the feeling of relief, excitement and maybe just a little bit of wonder that two strangers had actually stopped to pick us up. They were kind.
That kindness would become one of the greatest parts of our story. As we traveled, more people joined us until there were sixteen people in that Volkswagen bus. Sixteen! I still can't believe we all fit. We took the back seat out so everyone could sit on the floor. We told the guy at the gas station in a town in Pennsylvania, where we left it at that we would be back for it but then no one could remember where the gas station was.
There we were, packed together like a bunch of sardines or how we said it back then, little fish in a can that Grandpa ate, traveling toward Woodstock. And somehow, it was perfect. Nobody complained about the lack of room. Nobody cared about being uncomfortable. We were singing and enjoying the 5-window air conditioner we had. We were all headed to the same place. We were going to Woodstock. The farther we traveled, the more exciting it became.
I can still imagine the feeling of sitting on that floor, surrounded by people, looking out at the road and wondering what we were going to find when we got there. We didn't know we were traveling toward history. We were just kids going to a concert. Then we finally arrived, and there were people everywhere, more people than I have ever seen in my lifetime. I mean everywhere. The crowd was enormous. Wound up to be over 400,000 people.
It was so overwhelming that by the time we got there, they weren't even taking tickets anymore. The festival had become something much bigger than anyone had expected. People from fence to fence.
This is Chapter One and there will be many more chapters from My Memory Book called: My Woodstock Summer of 1969 By: RLT By: RLT