[He] felt the past rush in like a tide, drowning him, filling his lungs with its revenant saltiness. I am not myself today, he thought. The heart flutters. Life damages the living. None of us are ourselves. None of us are like this.
By the time we got to Woodstock We were half a million strong And everywhere was song and celebration. And I dreamed I saw the bomber jet planes riding shotgun in the sky Turning into butterflies above our nation.
(Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young “Woodstock”)
45 Years Ago Today - Woodstock Peace & Music Festival