Woodstock: Les Goldschmidt

Les Goldschmidt, 64, pharmacist in Hauppauge.

My girlfriend Edie [now my wife] and I, along with three of her friends, decided to attend. Just before we left, we heard news reports of terrible traffic jams and incredible numbers of people descending on the concert site. While the others wanted to leave immediately, I insisted we stop at a supermarket and stock up on food and camping supplies. Since I was the driver, I fortunately won the argument, because there was absolutely nothing available once we got there.

I remember local homeowners running garden hoses out to the street so that we could have some water to drink. They were all trying to help the hordes of kids who descended on their little town, leaving quite a mess.

They watched in quiet awe as the army of festival-goers marched past their homes - some offering hospitality beyond water: phones to call home or even a real bathroom to use.

We ended up parking two or three miles from the site. There were no more gates, fences or ticket-takers. We found a patch of ground where we could see the stage in the distance and hear the music. Sound quality was surprisingly good.

The hundreds of people visible in my pictures are all average, dorky schoolkids. Not one wild-eyed hippie in the bunch. Yet if you see the documentaries or books about Woodstock, you would easily believe that all or most of the kids were stoned, dancing naked, tie-dyed freaks.

There was an overwhelming feeling of peace, love and community, as if everyone there was trying very hard to make the promoters' visions come true despite the hardships. It was an environment that will never be duplicated, much to our society's loss.