SOME OF THE SOGGY PILGRIMS
of Woodstock were, by day
three, exhausted from exposure
and sought shelter anyway and
anywhere they could find it.
But the show, of course, went
on. Even the most despairing of
the muddy ones were perhaps
soothed by the blues of Johnny
Winter (opposite), or buoyed
when he and his band bounced
into a rousing, crowd-pleasing
finale of “Johnny B. Goode.”