SAUGERTIES, N.Y., AUG. 14 -- On the final day of Woodstock '94 -- a mudfest that drove thousands home exhausted, wet and hungry -- the precision-packaged concert became what its critics always wanted: a sloppy be-in of free music and harmony.
If the festival's organizers set too many rules or turned the site into a merchandising mart, nature evened the score, dousing Winston Farm with all-day rains that swamped the vast tent cities, washed out roads, and slowed food and transportation services to a crawl.
Today's early exodus of many of the nearly 300,000 rock fans from the rural concert site eased organizers' concerns about a monumental, 24-hour push to clear the area. But by evening the roads in the immediate area of the Winston Farm were backed up for more than three miles and travelers reported a four-hour wait for shuttle buses to parking lots.
Advertisem*nt
The Allman Brothers Band played in the background as a steady river of young people filled country lanes, choosing the long road home over the wet wait for Bob Dylan, Spin Doctors and Santana, among other blockbuster final acts.
"The rain sucked, but it was worth being here," said Vinnie DiGiovine, 21, as he and friends hauled tents and backpacks on a miles-long trek to overloaded parking areas.
New York State Police reported three deaths in addition to the one reported early Saturday morning. A 20-year-old Ohio man succumbed to a ruptured spleen at the festival, and two people were killed in a car accident on their way home to Chicago. But Lt. James O'Donnell said the festival produced "remarkably few casualties or arrests." He registered only 14 arrests, nearly all for minor offenses, such as a mother and son found sleeping in a local resident's shed.
Advertisem*nt
"They look awfully tired out there," O'Donnell said. "The rain took a lot out of them."
Local officials had been so worried about security that Ulster County spent $340,000 to add a dormitory onto its jail. The facility was not used this weekend, police said.
"This was the ultimate test of the younger generation," said concert organizer John Scher, president of Polygram Diversified Entertainment. "Under pretty trying conditions, everybody seems to be getting along well."
Hyping his product to the end, Scher welcomed today's exodus, saying, "Hopefully, those who leave early can get home in time to call their cable systems and watch the rest on pay-per-view."
Woodstock's gates had long since been trampled and the 1,000-strong Peace Patrol security force had diminished in number and spirit. Still, Scher insisted: "There are some people getting in for free, but it's not a free concert." Organizers said they sold about 190,000 tickets, but police estimated a crowd of about 300,000 at its peak on Saturday.
Advertisem*nt
Some fans were still arriving this afternoon. "We came spur-of-the-moment," said Will Adams, 24, of Nashua, N.H., who left home at 5 a.m. today. " ... We just had to do it."
"We were watching it on MTV and we said, 'Let's go,' " said his friend Corey Brodsky, 19. "Our parents encouraged us because they didn't get to go to the first one."
Though some survivors of the long, messy weekend regretted having shelled out big bucks when many of those around them had walked right in, others welcomed all comers.
"No, I'm not mad. I smoked a lot of weed," said Mona Ciocca, 27, of Boston, who spent $135 for her ticket.
Some fans took advantage of the weather, competing in new sports events such as mud sliding. The mosh pits -- jampacked stage-front lakes of mud where fans dance and pass one another over their shoulders -- were generating a 100-patient-per-hour flow to medical facilities. Doctors handled more than 7,000 injuries, many of them twisted or broken ankles from slips in the mud.
Advertisem*nt
But spirits remained high. "The kids had a phenomenal time here," said organizer Joel Rosenman, a veteran of the 1969 Woodstock. "They don't buy a T-shirt if they don't want it. They don't respond to marketing hype if they're not interested. Adversity is legendary for making people into buddies, and this is one giant buddy system out here."
"We're wet and cold, but it all came together, the rain and the music," said a mud-caked Heidi Jones, 25, of Denver, who said she had not slept since Thursday. "You can't re-create the '60s. You can only do something new."
"I don't know if the first Woodstock was really so much peace and love," said Maureen Strong, 23, a student from Goshen, N.Y. "They had to deal with the same mud and crap. But we're okay. We're professional campers."
But even the best-prepared were at the mercy of the 2,800 portable toilets that became the most loathed element of this year's Woodstock experience. Organizers said they had trouble getting waste-suctioning trucks through clogged and collapsed roads.
Advertisem*nt
The small town of Saugerties was promised a financial bonanza by Woodstock promoters, including a $4 per ticket share of revenues. Most residents said they got what they bargained for, despite snarled streets and massive mounds of trash.
"It's a mess and the rain is a shame," said Court Clerk Sheila McCarthy. "But it's given this town more excitement than it's ever seen, and even our prisoners have been very friendly," she said, referring to various festival-going offenders police brought in to the town hall.
"I know there were people who threatened to shoot these so-called hippies and transient people. I wasn't one of them," said lifelong resident Richard Kime Sr., 56. "These kids are good."
County police were so worried about local backlash last week that they went door to door reminding residents that it is not legal to shoot someone who inadvertently steps on private property.
Advertisem*nt
Saugerties had prepared for the worst, importing 10 area judges and stocking the tiny one-room courthouse with stacks of booking orders and arrest warrants. All for naught. A single Massachusetts teenager slept off an upset stomach on a chaise longue while Judge Charles Smith completed the morning's lone arraignment.
"They're well-behaved kids," Smith said. "That part's good. But the county officials thought they were going to make a lot of money off this, and with all the cleanup and destruction, I don't know that they'll get anything out of it."
After months of publicity, many shopkeepers watched as police roadblocks steered visitors away from dreary commercial streets that painfully reflect the region's high unemployment rate.
"We Surrender," said a sign outside Lachmann's Pastry Shop in Saugerties. "Invade in Peace. Have Fun. Love. But Eat Our Buns."
Advertisem*nt
Kime, who lives less than two miles from the concert site, took in two college students who got separated from their friends and lost their car to the town impound lot. Like many other fans, the two women were unable to park in their assigned lots, many of which were closed after filling up Friday.
"This was forced down our throats," Kime said. "I would have liked to lynch {Woodstock chief promoter} Michael Lang from that telephone pole. He's sticking it to these kids. They had passes and couldn't get in. Lang didn't fulfill his promises."
Promoter Rosenman expressed doubts that any ticket holders had been turned away and said his Woodstock Ventures company has no refund policy.
Even before the music ended early Monday, the myth of Woodstock was larger than the reality.
"By next month, there'll be millions of people who will say they were at Woodstock," said Rosenman.
And you can bet that somewhere, somebody is already hawking "I Survived Woodstock '94" T-shirts, $19.95 while they last.
