My father saw him 1969. He was, I think 16. The rest of the family went on a summer road trip and left him at home for whatever reason. They lived in Buffalo and some of my father's friends were going, so he basically snuck off Woodstock with them. This story only got related to me when I was a little older, and worry of my pulling a similar stunt at that age had dissipated. I was maybe five or six years into playing guitar at the time, and was enamored that he got to see one of my idols play live. I asked him a number of questions, and didn't get a lot of great answers. He was a long ways off from the stage and said he didn't remember much of it. "If he raised the guitar up over his head or something, or walked from one end of the stage to the other, you could see that, but other than that, not really. I was too far away. The PA equipment also wasn't that great and I couldn't hear most of it." That's about all he had to say on it. It was on Monday morning and I think he was just pretty much over the whole ordeal at that point, probably hungover, stoned, tired, and hungry. I remember statements to that effect. He was a Hendrix fan, so he stuck around, but as I look over the setlist, I remember I heard him mostly play a lot of The Band, The Who, and Grateful Dead while I was growing up, so I think that's more what he was there for.
______________________________________________ “There are plenty of good reasons for fighting, but no good reason ever to hate without reservation, to imagine that God Almighty Himself hates with you, too.”
I was 16 or 17 at the Atlanta pop festival, the second one I think. Fourth of July and Hendrix played the Star Spangled Banner, fireworks going off and the pharmacy was open. Only time I saw him and he was the highlight of the show.This message has been edited. Last edited by: sunburn,
Lick the lollipop of mediocrity once and you suck forever.
Posts: 1105 | Location: North | Registered: August 27, 2012
I saw him about a month before he died at Randalls Island NYC. It was a 2 day concert that ended up being free. The first day we took a bus in but had trouble getting on the local bus. It was exact change and no one in Harlem wanted to give us coins in exchange for paper money. Finally, a good guy saw the problem we were having and got us the change we needed. (Harlem was not a friendly place at that time). Hendrix was the last act of the night. The moon was going down, sun coming up. I remember barely being able to keep my eyes open. At the concert, we met friends that drove us home that night and took us back the next night. By car we were about 1 hour away.
Living the Dream
Posts: 4041 | Location: New Jersey | Registered: December 06, 2010
Originally posted by smschulz: No never saw him live but I imagine the stories of Woodstock were much better than actually being there.
That's what my father said. Imagine being stuck for a weekend in the mud with a half million people who didn't bathe in the first place, all whacked out on something.
______________________________________________ “There are plenty of good reasons for fighting, but no good reason ever to hate without reservation, to imagine that God Almighty Himself hates with you, too.”
