When I was a teenager in Falls Church, my friend Greg and I were inseparable. Greg was mischievous and always full of adventure, skipping class sometimes and going to music concerts. One summer day in the late '60s, Greg came to me especially excited. He had heard about a big rock concert coming up in a month or so that was out of state -- in fact, it was a full day's drive away. We were 15 years old, and neither of us had a driver's license yet. We would have to hitchhike and hope we could get tickets when we got there, if our parents even agreed to the idea. To me, the more cautious one, it was just too complicated, and in the end we decided not to go. There was plenty happening that summer right here in Washington. And the more I thought about it, the more it seemed ridiculous to travel that far just for a concert. Plus, it was going to be in a town I had never even heard of: Woodstock.
Michael Reinemer, Annandale