CHAPTER 4
Early Birds
The Wednesday before the festival began, crews were still building the stage and sound towers. Yet about fifty thousand fans had already arrived! The advertising had worked. Maybe too well. News about the festival had spread far and wide. By Friday morning, 175,000 people had come. However, it looked like many more than that were on the way.
Could the festival handle such a huge crowd?
People who lived along the roads to the festival sat on lawn chairs in their front yards. They watched a parade of thousands of hippies and other young people drive by. Many were in wildly painted busses or vans, and cars with painted slogans like “Woodstock or Bust.” Soon there were so many cars headed for the festival that traffic creeped along. Then it completely stopped! Drivers gave up and parked their cars along the side of the road, in parking lots, cemeteries, or anywhere there was space. Then crowds of music fans walked ten miles or more to Yasgur’s farm. It was the only way to get there now.
The fans’ excitement grew as they approached the concert area. Then they got confused. There were no ticket booths set up yet. No one knew where to buy tickets or to hand in the tickets they’d bought in advance.
Things quickly spun out of control. The fence around the concert area wasn’t finished. Fans could just enter. There wasn’t enough security to stop them. So there was no way to make sure everyone paid. The festival organizers came to a quick decision. All parts of the fence were taken down.
Woodstock was declared a free concert! Anybody who showed up was welcome. This was great for fans, but a disaster for the organizers. They’d overspent. Without more tickets sales, how would they pay the bills?
Once on the farm’s hillside, fans chose good spots. They claimed them by spreading blankets, setting out belongings, or leaving a friend in charge. Then they walked around, meeting people, looking for snacks, or hoping to see musicians.
The Hog Farmers tried to entertain the crowd. They led yoga exercises from the stage. Thousands of fans on the hillside joined in, taking deep breaths and stretching their muscles. Hog Farmers believed in living simply and knew how to do things to survive outdoors. In the nearby campgrounds, they helped people set up tents or tarps for sleeping. They showed them how to build cooking fires.
People in the crowd quickly made friends and shared the excitement of being together. “Where are you from?” they’d ask one another. It turned out, they’d come to Woodstock from as far away as California, Washington, Florida, and Alabama. And they had a lot in common. They wanted peace, not war. Instead of hello or good-bye, they often said, “Peace, man.” They’d flash a peace sign—two fingers held up in a V.
War wasn’t the only thing on their minds, though. Mostly, they’d come to Woodstock for fun and music. Those who arrived early found ways to have fun before the music even began. They went swimming or skinny-dipping in the nearby lakes. There was a playground area with a wooden jungle gym. It was meant for the little kids at the festival, but older fans played there, too. Long, sturdy vines had been hung from the trees. People swung out on them, let go, and landed in piles of hay. They danced, strummed guitars, and explored the area.
Meanwhile, traffic leading to the concert got worse. Authorities worried about such a huge crowd. It could easily turn into an angry mob. There could be riots! The National Guard—government soldiers—was all set to go in and remove everyone from Yasgur’s land. Woodstock Ventures said there was no need for that. So the National Guard was called off. However, hundreds of local sheriffs, state troopers, and volunteer police needed to help out with traffic and crowd control before the weekend was out.
