By Rachel Barduson of Alexandria
The fields and pastures of Minnesota would unlikely see anything like the pasture of New York in the August heat of 1969. Our pastures and fields were vastly different. The music of that era is perhaps the only similarity the New York and Minnesota fields and pastures had in common.
The Woodstock Music and Art Fair held from Aug. 15-18, 1969 was on a dairy farm near Bethel, New York, 40 miles southwest of the town of Woodstock. I remember catching wind of it and seeing the images of thousands of people on the small screen of our black and white television set as Chet Huntley and David Brinkley reported the happenings, not realizing at the time of course what an epic historical event it would come to be known as.
“Woodstock attracted something like 460,000 people with 32 music acts performed outdoors on a hilly pasture through sunshine and overcast skies, rain and mud. It was one of the largest music festivals in the history of music and festivals, and became synonymous with the counterculture of the 1960s. In 2004, Rolling Stone magazine listed Woodstock as number 19 of the 50 Moments That Changed the History of Rock and Roll.”
As boomers, our generation of music included the acts featured at Woodstock -- Crosby, Stills Nash and Young and Credence Clearwater Revival, along with Carlos Santana, the Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, Joni Mitchell, Jefferson Airplane, Sly and the Family Stone, Richie Havens, Jimi Hendrix, Canned Heat and The Who (just to name a few).
Whatever you were doing during Woodstock in 1969 - you likely remember. You were living and witnessing that time in history, history of the world, history of the country, history of the state. All, or much of it, brought to us in living color or on black and white TV...or our folk’s A.M. radio or the small transistor we held to our ear while we went about our daily “business.” Perhaps it was brought to you by reading the national, state or local newspaper.
Of course, as Woodstock happened in New York for three days during the summer of 1969, life as we knew it in Minnesota carried on as usual. We were also in the fields and pastures. Our fields had farmers, farmer’s wives, farmer’s kids and the upcoming school year’s football players throwing bales and making a buck – to harvest the crops and stack the hay in order to feed the livestock for winter. In our fields the business at hand was harvesting the grain. The fields and pastures weren’t crowded, unless you happened to be a cow who wanted that same blade of grass on the other side of the fence that the other cow just discovered.
Yes, Woodstock is historically known as a culture and counterculture event. And it gained news and press coverage like never-before-seen. As it says on Wikipedia, “In 1969, the country was deep into the controversial Vietnam War. It was also the era of the civil rights movement, a period of great unrest and protest. Woodstock was an opportunity for people to escape into music and spread a message of unity and peace.”
Meanwhile, back in central Minnesota, in 1969, the one constant on the farm was that no matter what the weather, what the crop, what the circumstances – the crops must be harvested and if you’re on a diversified farm, with dairy, the cows must be milked twice a day, the chickens are laying eggs that have to be picked, the pigs have to be “slopped” and dinner is at noon every day with a hot meal, whether it’s 90+ degrees or not. All of it – part of the peaceful “dog days of summer.”
I don’t claim to know or understand everything about the iconic music festival of Woodstock, but I think we all understand how things work back in Minnesota, and honestly, communities throughout the country. We know that when someone is ill, has health issues, has experienced a natural disaster, or needs help – your community steps up no matter how busy you might be. We pay forward with muscle, grit and determination. When someone dies, unexpectedly or because of terminal illness, we step up. We pay tribute and we remember the importance of family, friends and humility.
Case in point, in October, 1991 when Sid Satterlie, Jr. unexpectedly died of a heart attack at the age of 55 while harvesting his crops, a neighborhood rallied around the family. “Sid was a life-long resident of Evansville Township, a Pioneer Seed Corn salesman, avid sportsman and school board member,” wrote Al Edenloff (Echo Press, Alexandria) in October of 1991. “When the work was finished, the farmers’ wives brought out a huge lunch of sandwiches, bars, cookies, and of course, plenty of coffee. They ate the meal right there, in Sid’s field with the 11 combines lined up in a row in front of them.”
Another time in history - I remember it well when my mom and dad joined their neighbors - stepping up to help a friend in need. It was the harvest of 1967. The neighborhood farmers and wives gathered together to help Sanford and Valerie. I look at the picture today and remember all of these people, most now passed on. I grew up with them – they attended the same church I grew up in, we kids knew each other from Luther League and school. Life was simple, yet it was not. When hardships happen, people step up.
And so I reflect. The field and pasture provided for the music and art festival we all know as Woodstock, lasted three days during August of 1969 - an original and once-in-a-lifetime event. It happened 55 years ago.
The fields and pastures of our humble spot in the Midwest – farming and putting up the crops – an annual “event.” It happened 55 years ago and before that and after that and will continue...after that.
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