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Woodstock, My Summer of Love, and the BIG LIE
The year was 1969. I was fresh out of high school, living out my hippie dreams in Allentown NY, Buffalo's very own little Haight-Ashbury. With Delaware Park, shops, restaurants, stores and such all within walking distance, there was rarely need of a car to get around in. More often than not, I walked, rode a bus or I thumbed a ride. On occasion, good friend and fellow guitarist Dom Cedro and his pale yellow Corvair would get me from here to there.

That spring, I was well aware a huge three-day music festival was being planned for late August somewhere near Albany. 'Woodstock Music Festival' the poster read, 'Three Days of Peace, Love and Music.' With so many great bands at a fair ticket price I could not resist.
So I started to make my so-called 'plans' well in advance. Of course my 'plans'
consisted of 'yeah, I wanna go'. And with that I figured I was already there. We'll
find it. No problem. We'll get tickets at the gate. Right.

As the days drew closer the buzz grew louder. Now sensing that I may have to
miss work the Monday after the concert, I'd better take the day off in advance.
Taking a day off from my job as a mail room clerk at the Huge Insurance
Company in downtown Buffalo was for me, a really big deal. This was my
first full time job. I had never taken a day off before. How do I do that? I
figured I should probably be as direct as possible, and hope that my
reason for missing work did not get me fired.
In spite of working my tail off moving through three floors...

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©2019 Charlie O’Neill