Up in Flames

"They've got police in riot gear out there now."

The words were disturbing enough, but I visibly jumped several minutes later when the loud detonation of a propane tank echoed across the grounds of Griffiss Air Force Base.

By then, we were already slamming all of our compact discs into plastic tubs, condensing all our opened boxes into as little space as possible. Lights and CD players were unplugged and boxed, and roughly 1,000 compact discs were on our mostly dysfunctional dolly.

We killed the remaining lights and wondered what to do next. The reports from Mark and Steve told us that the riots were getting worse, and that we were probably going to have trouble retrieving our vans from the parking lot to the tent where Awaremusic had set up shop.

But it was Will's words that were most chilling as the fiery rioters and explosions marched nearer.

"Just leave them. If anyone comes near here, just walk away. The CDs are all insured. Just get ready to go."

Suddenly it was a little more real, a little more personal. I shifted into fight-or-flight mode, self-preservation foremost on my mind. I tried to tell myself then, and I'm trying to tell myself now that I wasn't that scared.

I was terrified.

Point one: I was disturbed at the possibility that the fine line of person-on-person damage would be left behind by the rioting fans, opting instead for person-to-person damage. Not to mention the fact that, as the only legitimate CD store at Woodstock, it would only take one jackass to head our way. Part of me wanted to overturn our tables and defend our gear and merchandise. The other part of me to go to hell and get my things.

Point the second: All it takes is one jerk. I said that before. But on this level, I'm much more worried. Thousands of angry people vs. scared riot cops. Oh, and no security. I'll get to that soon enough. What frightened me was the chance that some riot cop would panic and cave in some poor schmuck's head or discharge a weapon at the wrong person and I'd get hurt in the ensuing panic.

When whistles began coming closer to our tent, as did the dull growl of angry people, we began to gather our few remaining personal belongings and waited by the door, foiling one man who attempted to relieve himself on our walls. It was two of our previous customers who encouraged us to leave.

And leave we did, carrying a cooler and a stereo. If we didn't look like looters, it would be hard to identify one. We neared the police, hearing breaking bottles and angry shouts. Luckily, we passed through the checkpoint, and were on our way soon afterward.

I returned to Chicago with a brand new experience. I had expected to make new friends, maybe see a few old ones, see some great music, and maybe earn a little money for my company. Instead, I got caught in what I assume is going to be a historical event.

Looking back, now, it's easy to point fingers: We should have known something would go wrong when half of the security forces quit after the first day on the job. We should have known that a $12 pizza wouldn't go over too well. We should have known that the fans that misunderstood hip-hop and metal artists were likely to misunderstand the point of Woodstock. And we should have known better and left Woodstock alone.

I wouldn't trade my experience for another one at all. But I'd rather not go back there again. It might be hard to draw a lesson out of this event, but I'll try anyway. Here goes: despite what you know you're going to do, what you would have done in my shoes, or what you would do to protect yourself, you don't. Life will occasionally present you with such unfathomable experiences, and the best you can do is to ride them out. I never thought I'd be scared like that. I thought rioting was a thing of another time and another place. I could tell much more of this story, to show how marked the contrast was between the days of the festival, but nothing can begin to describe to you how it feels to actually have your life in danger, and what happens when you shut down and run.

Paul Gutman '00 is working for AWARE Records this summer in Chicago, and attended Woodstock '99 as part of a 6-person crew selling compact discs to the festival-goers. The awaremusic.com tent lost $76,000 of merchandise and personal property during an event of supposed love and peace that ended in mayhem.