<Archive Obituary> Max Yasgur (February 9th 1973)
Bill Schenley
Photo: http://www.woodstockpreservation.org:81/Father4.jpg
FROM: The New York Times (February 10th 1973) ~
By The Associated Press
MARATHON, Fla., Feb. 9
Max Yasgur, whose Sullivan County dairy farm was the
scene of the tumultuous 1969 Woodstock rock festival,
died today at Fisherman's Hospital. He was 53 years old.
Mr. Yasgur put his 600-acre farm up for sale in 1971,
including its three houses, two barns, a natural pond and a
man-made pond and stream. He asked about $1,000 an
acre.
Surviving are his widow, Mimi; a son, Samuel, and a
daughter, Mrs. Lori Herring.
Undaunted by Threats
Up to the time some 400,000 rock fans descended upon
his farm from across the country, Max Yasgur was just
another dairy farmer in Sullivan County. Local restrictions
had forced the removal of the festival from Woodstock,
and Mr. Yasgur rented his spread in Bethel, about 55 miles
away, to the promoters for a fee he never exactly revealed.
Mr. Yasgur began to receive phone calls, some threatening
to burn him out, others praising him and offering help. In
fact, he quickly established rapport with the crowds of
youngsters gathered for the festival by helping to provide
food for them, sometimes at cost and often free.
"I never expected this festival to be this big," he said at the
time. "But if the generation gap is to be closed, we older
people have to do more than we have done."
When some residents were reported selling water to the
increasingly weary youngsters, he put up a big sign at his
red barn on Route 17B, reading, "Free Water." And he
angrily demanded: "How can anyone ask money for
water."
Still, when it was all over, Mr. Yasgur declared that he
had "no thoughts" of renting his property out for a rerun
of the festival if one were to be held the following year.
"As far as I know," he said then, "I'm going back to
running a dairy farm."
---
Photo: http://fusionanomaly.net/maxyasgur.jpg
---
Woodstock Land for Sale, but Yasgur's Legacy Lives
Photo:
http://www.yasgurroad.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/house001.jpg
FROM: The New York Times (August 28th 1973) ~
By Jeff Blumenfeld
For $85,000 the family of Max Yasgur will sell you
the 40-acre birthplace of the Woodstock Nation.
While some attribute historical value to that particular
tract of land outside Monticello, N.Y., the price merely
reflects the going rate for 40 acres of fertile soil in the
Catskill Mountain farming community of Bethel.
Most of the land that once belonged to the late Max
Yasgur has been sold, yet the "festival field" was one
of the last to go because Max and his wife Mimi were
sentimentally attached to the property.
When Woodstock entrepreneurs Michael Lang and
John Roberts were driven out of Wallkill, N.Y.
(40 miles further down Route 17), the maverick dairy
farmer rented his land to them for $50,000, despite
personal threats against his life and a threatened boycott
of his milk.
Two years ago, during a late-night interview with The
New York Times, Yasgur said: "I told Lang and
Roberts, 'If you fellows can get complete approval from
all safety authorities, you can rent my property.'" Some
of the Sullivan County elders were outraged at Yasgur's
proposal. At one of the last town board meetings held
before the event, Yasgur was present to defend himself
from county and state safety officials.
Yasgur asked each official if there were any legal
stipulations within their respective departments that
hadn't been met to accommodate the expected
40,000 people per day. When no reservations were
raised, he addressed the entire meeting: "So the only
objection to having a festival here is to keep longhairs
out of town?" A murmur of dissent swept through the
heavily conservative Republican crowd, and Yasgur
bellowed: "Well, you can all go pound salt up your ass,
because come Aug. 15, we're going to have a festival!"
He stormed out of the room, and the rest became
rock history.
In the years to follow, as he sold his business and
retired to a winter home in Florida, he became a realtor.
It was hard to keep a sign in front of his home, he said,
because anything with the name Yasgur on it was a
collector's item.
He could have been a rich man in those post-Woodstock
days. All he had to do was join forces with the hip
capitalists who approached him with schemes to market
Yasgur-for-President T-shirts, Yasgur posters and milk
from Yasgur cows. Max refused to prostitute himself that
way. He said once: "I'll be god-damned if I'll capitalize on
what was an accident!"
The use of drugs on his land, however, bothered him
a great deal; LSD in particular. "Any kid I can get off
from drugs means more to me," he commented, "than
endorsing some nutty product." Before he died, hundreds
of festival-goers wrote to say that as a result of
Woodstock and the personal ideals Max publicized later
on, they quit drugs. As Yasgur put it: "To me this means
everything."
Ticket sales for the current Watkins Glen Summer Jam
have reached near Woodstock proportions, and the
state hasn't seen anything like it since 1969. In early
1971, Yasgur remarked: "The worst thing about
Woodstock was that there were just too many. I wouldn't
have done it if I knew there were going to be half a million
instead of 40,000...Bethel is a rural town and can't service
a crowd that big...I have no right to have any kind of affair
that would block vital services from reaching my
neighbors."
Max Yasgur died Feb. 8 in Marathon, Fla. of a heart
ailment. Three days later, 300 of his neighbors attended
the funeral in Monticello. Recently, Mimi Yasgur said in
a telephone interview: "Someone mentioned to me how
strange it was that none of the young people who had
come back so often before made it to the funeral."
Some did come back, but didn't want to disturb the
family by crowding the services. A neighboring Bethel
farmer passing the site after the funeral told Mrs. Yasgur
that a group of young people had gathered at the field.
"We just wanted to say goodbye to Max in our own way,"
they told him.
There's not much left at the festival site to see anymore.
The charred traces of campfires still dot the woods
surrounding Lake Shore Drive and Hurd Road, but one
of the last remaining structures, the skeleton of the
performer's tent, was recently torn down.
Local residents objected to the magnetic attraction it had
upon an endless stream of youths who continue to drive
through those back roads. The owner of the land directly
opposite the stage location was pressured into removing
the "eyesore."
Originally the Yasgurs wanted to donate five acres
overlooking the festival crossroads to the Town of Bethel.
They had intended to turn the wooden platforms and
lean-tos into a park area, but the idea fell through when the
community indicated a park would not be welcome. A
short while ago, Mrs. Yasgur admitted: "The community
did not want to encourage young people to come into the
area."
Employers at nearby resort hotels, summer tourists, and
even some local residents come back to stop and walk
among the alfalfa, or just slow down to picture 400,000
people in their mind's eye. Each year there's talk of
erecting some sort of monument to commemorate the
event.
Before Woodstock, the only thing Sullivan County could
mark in its history books was an Indian raid during the
Revolutionary War and the opening of the Ontario and
Western railroad 100 years ago.
Although the tourist guide books proudly commemorate
the two earlier events, for the past four years the people
of Bethel have opposed any publicity in connection with
the Woodstock Aquarian Exposition and Music and Art
Fair.
Earlier this month a Monticello reporter proposed buying
the land and turning it into an attractive park to bolster the
region's economy. He recommended buying Max Yasgur's
home and turning it into a festival museum for such
memorabilia as Joan Baez' maternity dress, Janis Joplin's
love beads, a Port-O-San outdoor toilet and a spectacular
lighted diorama, a la Gettysburg.
Yasgur, however, isn't about to sell her home or the
70-acres that surround it. "My home is not for sale," she
says. "Certainly not right now!"
Mrs. Yasgur is going through her husband's papers and
stacks of correspondence from throughout the world. In
another box is a collection of tapes that she has yet to
play because of the deep emotional impact they would
have upon her. Before he died, Yasgur completed five
chapters of a book he was collaborating on, and all the
material has been recorded.
Back in 1971, Yasgur began work along a different
theme. The Woodstock Letters would have been a
compilation of his favorite correspondence. Work on
the title was cancelled when publishers convinced him
people would be more interested in an autobiography
than in a collection of letters.
For months Yasgur balked, arguing that he was only the
"landlord" and really had nothing to do with the festival.
Yet with his "I'm a farmer..." speech he became a father
image for Woodstock and its patron saint. He eventually
realized people were interested in what he had to say and
would respect his idealism.
Grudgingly he recorded personal reminiscences, but chose
to espouse a hard line against drugs. He once said:
"Provided all facilities were available, if a festival could be
held drug free--and i know I'm dreaming--they could have
all the private sex and nudity they wanted."
Someday the book will come out, but Mrs. Yasgur has
no strong compulsions about finishing it. For Max, it was
much too autobiographical. For his wife and grandchildren,
it's a precious record of a man who was proudest as a
successful farmer and as a good provider for his family.
"Woodstock was no achievement for Max," Mrs. Yasgur
revealed, "the festival was just an extraordinary event that
widened his experience in life because of his contact with
these people."
The man is best characterized by a comment he once made
to his wife: "When I decide that I have to drive by someone
in need of help and not stop, that's not the kind of world I
want to live in."
Such was the lesson of Woodstock, a three-day social
experiment in brotherhood that showed the world that man
could indeed "get together for fun and music and have
nothing but fun and music."
---
Photo:
http://www.thegreatillusion.com/woodstock-poster.jpg
http://freefallrock.com/images/photos/woodstock.jpg
http://fantasm.still-inspired.com/woodstock/images/woodstock1.jpg
Jim Beaver
"Bill Schenley" <stra...@ma.rr.com> wrote in message
news:1170999846.4...@a75g2000cwd.googlegroups.com...
> Back in 1971, Yasgur began work along a different
> theme. The Woodstock Letters would have been a
> compilation of his favorite correspondence. Work on
> the title was cancelled when publishers convinced him
> people would be more interested in an autobiography
> than in a collection of letters.
Did the book ever come out?
Jim Beaver
Brad Ferguson
Beaver <jumb...@prodigy.spam> wrote:
No. According to this:
<http://www.woodstockpreservation.org/PastPresent/MaxTribute.html>
Max and his unidentified collaborator had finished five chapters, and