August 1969

Untitled Part 17

After a long, fantastic night of music, Sha Na Na's performance is like a breath of fresh air. The band played their rendition of songs from the fifties and early sixties with their own twist and flare added in. Their style brought back old sounds and made them new again, really putting in perspective how far rock and roll has come over the last decade.

The early rock and doo-wop songs had me and Mike looking like idiots as we tried to swing dance. We failed miserably, but damn, was it fun.

Their sound, although simplistic compared to others, reminds me why I fell in love with music. Listening to some of their cover songs brought me back to earlier, simple times. Like the first time I heard The Book of Love. I was seven, sitting in the back seat of my dad's car after he just brought me, Daniel, and Elaine ice cream. It was a carefree time in my life, and for a half hour, Sha na na made me feel like a kid again.

The strong sun sears my skin as I hum some of the songs Sha Na Na performed.

Thank God there is no rain.

The humidity, however, is another story. The sticky and damp air sticks to my skin, making me look like I just jumped out of the shower. It also doesn't help the smell permeating around us.

There is no polite way to say it, but we all smell like shit. The body odor, mixed with never-ending damp soil, cigarettes, and weed, is definitely a stench I will never forget.

Bobby walks behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. When I twist my head to look at him, he places a searing kiss on my lips. I have become addicted to Bobby's touch, craving it whenever he isn't around. Every time he kisses me feels like the first time.

Who wouldn't yearn for that mind-altering sensation?

When we pull apart, Bobby asks, "Last act, are you ready, Winnie?"

My shoulders slump while a heaviness rests in my chest. Bobby spins me around and looks at me with small creases formed between his brows. "What's wrong?

I rest my cheek against Bobby's chest and sigh. I focus on the steady rhythm of his heart as he holds me tightly and rubs soothingly along my spine. "I don't want it to end. This weekend has been amazing, Bobby. I have heard dozens of bands play and made new friends. Most importantly, everything that has happened between us. What if I wake up and it is all a dream?"

Bobby lifts my chin with his finger, bringing my gaze to his. He brushes his lips against mine before saying, "Are you awake yet, or are you dreaming because what we have going on between us is as real as it gets."

"Heck yeah, I'm living a dream. I just kissed Bobby Walker."

When Bobby's tongue rolls against his lower lip, my heart flutters. "Well, Winnie, kissing you is definitely a dream come true."

His words send shivers down my spine. I rise on my toes while wrapping my arms around him to bring him close. The moan that erupts from Bobby's chest when I kiss along his neck sends pleasure to my core. "Then let's keep living our dream."

"Stop making out with my brother!" Rose yells. "I'm happy for you both, truly, but do I need to see it?"

"Fuck off," Bobby mumbles.

I tilt my head to the side with my jaw clenched tight. My eyes don't even blink as I look at Rose.

Did she already forget the traumatizing events I witnessed yesterday?

As if she could read my mind, Rose scoffs. "Fine, whatever, continue if you must."

Mike begins to pass around what might be the last doobie of the festival, and we all get ready for the final act to start— Jimi Hendrix.

When Jimi takes the stage, the remaining crowd goes wild. Only a tiny fraction of us are left, and it amazes me that people went home before he could perform. I don't know if it was the rain storm, or maybe they had somewhere to be this beautiful Monday morning, but how could you come all the way to Woodstock and not see Jimi-freaking Hendrix play?

He has only been around for a few years, but Jimi is already an absolute legend and possibly the greatest guitar player of all time.

Sorry, Pete Townshend. I love you and still think you're a genius.

Nobody plays psychedelic rock like Jimi Hendrix. The sounds he produces with his instrument blows my mind. He moves his hands fluidly up and down the fretboard while delivering quick strums to the strings, making it look effortless.

My favorite part about watching Jimi play is the look he gets when he goes off into his own world. He closes his eyes with his mouth hung open and lets the music take control.

The crowd continues to dwindle, and Jimi's energy pulls us closer to the stage with every person who says goodbye.

As soon as Jimi and his band finish a mix-up version of Voodoo Child and Stepping Stone, he plays the first six notes of a song that all Americans know— The Star Spangled Banner.

Jimi starts our national anthem, placing in bits and pieces of his flare before letting it take on a mind of its own. The band tries to play along but eventually gives up. Besides the occasional beat of the drums, Jimi freely expresses himself and brings images of war with only his guitar.

For the first time this weekend, the crowd is still. We remain silent as we experience the beautiful chaos of Jimi's rendition. He has the power to make sounds that paint a picture of what the war in Vietnam is like, things we have only seen on TV.

Jimi Hendrix is sending a message to the world, and I'm here to witness it.

A chill spreads across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

I cling to Bobby's waist as Jimi continues to shred, causing graphic illustrations of bombs exploding, murder, and chaos to flash in my head.

Between verses, Jimi has the ability to make it sound like people are whaling in pain and sirens blaring around us. My eyes prickle when he sneaks in a small portion of Taps, paying homage to those we lost too soon.

Deep down, I know I'm watching one of the greatest moments in musical history.

When the song comes to an end, my emotions run haywire. I cup Bobby's cheek and bring him in for a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Knowing that we will be leaving Woodstock in just a few short hours is bittersweet. A part of me wants to stay forever and never leave the little bubble I have grown accustomed to the past few days.

Woodstock has changed me profoundly.

I have grown and explored new things, and above all, I have fallen deeply in love.

It's as if this weekend was a significant chapter in my book of life, and as it comes to an end, I can't wait to see what the next one brings.