Herb Benham: Taft cowboy at Woodstock? Believe it, man
| Friday, Aug 14 2009 05:50 PM
Last Updated Friday, Aug 14 2009 05:52 PM
John Brown was a cowboy. He listened to Loretta Lynn. Before being dragged to Woodstock by two medics in his unit, Brown was a member of the 173rd Airborne Brigade stationed in Fort Bragg.
That Brown, who now lives in Taft, would have attended the famous (infamous?) festival devoted to peace, love and mud was about as likely an event as Forrest Gump ending up with a string of shrimp boats.
Woodstock. It's been 40 years (Aug. 15-18, 1969) since more than a half-million people camped on Max Yasgur's 600-acre farm in upstate New York in order to listen to 32 future members of the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame.
A bunch of people went to Woodstock. After the '60s were over, just as many probably thought they had been there.
"I was from Omak, a little town in Washington," said the now 60-year-old Brown, who is retired from the refrigeration business.
"I grew up on a horse ranch and belonged to the Ghostriders Horse Club. We'd barrel race and pole bend."
Armed with a four-day pass, Brown and his fellow paratroopers packed into a '67 Chevy Bel Air and drove for more than 13 hours on a four-lane highway toward New York. When the traffic stopped, they pulled off, parked and walked for several hours.
Out of place? Although Brown and his two friends wore civvies, with their buzz cuts they were clearly not members of the Grateful Dead entourage. Brown's biggest reservation about Woodstock was that they might be treated poorly given the anti-war sentiment that was sweeping the country.
"People were friendly," Brown said. "They never got in our faces about Vietnam. It was a pretty lovey-dovey, peacey kind of thing. I didn't see any fights, brawls or meanness."
Brown and his buddies found a place to camp about three-quarters of the way up a hill.
None of them had any idea what to expect.
"Richie Havens was one of the opening acts," Brown said. "I fell in love with the song 'Freedom.'"
On Saturday, Brown left his spot on the hill and walked behind the bandstand. He shook Arlo Guthrie's hand and talked with members of John Sebastian's group. The music had begun working on him.
"Santana was awesome," Brown said. "Country Joe McDonald told funny stories."
The weather was cloudy and it rained a lot.
"Coming from Vietnam, where it would rain for two weeks in a row, we thought it was funny," Brown said.
Brown got into the spirit of the festival. He bought a box of candy bars, stood at the top of the hill and threw them into the crowd. He also drank some and did "a little what-not too."
"Yes, there was free love," Brown said. "You could have started with the people who were camping next to us."
More than anything, Brown was impressed by what he found at Woodstock.
"I know it has become a cliche to say it was peaceful, but there was no racism and people got along even through the relative hardship, questionable sanitation, close quarters and the lack of food and water."
Concert over and soon his tour of duty too, Brown went home to Omak to work on the family farm. A year later, he decided to stretch his wings and leave the nest. Brown bought a Wholesome Bread Truck, put in paneling and carpet, bolted an ice chest to the floor and lived in the truck for several years. He drifted between Southern Oregon and the Feather River near Paradise in Northern California.
Brown worked in sheet metal and built dome houses. He met Sharon, his future wife, in a bar and she straightened him right up.
"I've told her many times she probably saved my life," he said.
The Browns moved to Taft in 1980. His wife had grown up there and Brown worked with his father-in-law, who owned Koontz Appliance and Refrigeration.
Married for 30 years, the Brown family includes daughter, Lacey, 26, and two grandchildren.
Brown is happy about many things in his life. Near the top are serving his country (he still proudly wears his dog tags) and going to Woodstock, where he learned something from the camaraderie and goodwill he experienced.
"Don't get mad at your neighbor because he parked too close to your driveway one night," Brown said. "Save it for more important things."
Life lessons have been translated into parenting advice.
"I told my daughter after she got married and started having trouble that she could argue about every pebble in the driveway or pick out the big ones."
From a one-time cowboy, that's poetry you could almost put to music.
