I took this picture on the last day of my weekend at Woodstock in August 1994.
I’ve kept it in this plastic frame (now stuck inside of it) where it’s hung in every home I’ve moved into. I’ve moved recently and now as I redecorate, I find myself thinking about this mystery Woodstock boy. Who is he? Where is he now?
He was with his father when I spotted him that final day at Woodstock. What I remember most about Woodstock is the mud. By the third day, you could embrace it or you could suffer trying to stay spotless. I tried to stay clean. I think I actually wore a white shirt. But, I was also fascinated by the mud people, a rather large group of Woodstockians, doused in muck and mud from head to toe. They lived and played in a section of Woodstock where it was particularly muddy and hilly, and there they slid down the hills. Head first, yelling like banshees.
This muddy boy was walking up the hill with his father when I noticed him. I was struck by his calmness. And he kind of stood out. Fairly certain he was the only child I saw that weekend. His dad was watchful. I knew I must take his picture so I walked up and asked permission. He stood in front of me and I clicked my camera.
By now he’s a young man. I have no idea what his name is or where he is from, but maybe someone out there knows his Woodstock story or recognizes him. So, can you help a girl out and and share this with your friends? Let’s find the mystery Woodstock boy and see how he’s doing today! How cool would that be to find him?
Do you see his earring? He wore a pink stud in his left ear.