GOING UP TO YASGUR’S FARM

It’s hard to believe that the 40^th anniversary of Woodstock is upon us! Where did the time go? For two of our Camp Nickleby staffers, the Woodstock Music and Art Fair, as it was originally called, has a very special place in their hearts. Maurice and Charmaine Thibodaux were actually there, rolling around nekkid in the mud at Yasgur’s farm. As some of our loyal readers may recall, Maurice works as our maintenance man, but insists on being referred to as our ‘Viceroy of Camp Operations’. Charmaine works as our cook in the cafeteria, but she constantly refers to her work in the ‘film industry’, in her younger days. Both came to us from New Orleans after losing their house and all of their belongings during Hurricane Katrina.

These two crazy kids actually met at Woodstock. In 1969, both were recent graduates of Tulane University, but never ‘hooked up’ during college. Maurice earned a B.S. degree in chemical ‘engineering’, and Charmaine received a B.F.A. in interpretive dance (every father’s nightmare). When they heard about this music and art festival happening up in New York State, each of them decided to head north. Maurice packed his 1967 green and white VW microbus with a sleeping bag, a box of granola, half a case of Mateus Rosé, some weed and a couple of bongs, and headed north on a hot, muggy Louisiana morning in August of 1969. Charmaine decided to ‘borrow’ her brother’s aging Citroën deux chevaux and hit the road too. Packed with a cooler filled with organic bean sprouts, a loaf of wheat bread, several tie-dyed blouses, and her four-stringed dulcimer, she was ready for the adventure of a lifetime.

Their meeting at Woodstock was the proverbial case of love at first sight! It was, one would call, a whirlwind romance. Both being devout Catholics, they eschewed any type of birth control (and also because they were both #@&%ed up on windowpane acid) their love was consummated on the rotting remnants of Yasgur’s beet crop. Little Muffaletta Zydeco Thibodaux was conceived on August 15, 1969, at approximately 5:37 in the afternoon! Unfortunately, right after the climactic moment occurred, Maurice’s left foot was accidentally run over by Max Yasgur’s grandson, Skippy, taking a joy ride on his grandpa’s vintage 1957 Massey-Ferguson. Little Skippy was apparently suffering from a contact high and didn't see Maurice down on the ground in his Coleman sleeping bag. Maurice shrugged off the injury, but still walks with a slight limp. With that limp, he is constantly reminded of that special day 40 years ago. And little Muffaletta? Well she grew into a fine young woman, went to law school at Tulane and became a civil rights attorney and community organizer in Atlanta, Georgia. She is now currently an attorney, working with ACORN.

I asked Maurice what he remembers about the Woodstock experience. He said, “Not much, man. I was pretty stoned most of the time. But it took a long time to get Ritchie Haven’s music out of my head. Man, the dude played for two hours straight and he only knew one, friggin’ chord!”

While going through some old papers, I came upon this aging advertisement in Ramparts Magazine for an unassuming art and music festival in the summer of ’69. CHECK OUT THOSE PRICES!!!