Broward Community College - Silver Sands Yearbook (Fort Lauderdale, FL)

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RUSH'SH'SH'SH'SH'SH 'SH' lt was like dropping a lit match on top of an ant hill. No more calm . . . just the absence of everything except rushing, climaxing, busting-outvall-over energy triggered by Jerry Garcia and his waiting insanity. ZAP. The Grateful Dead and the human swamp were moving, No one could escape it - ZAP ZAP -- brains exploding everywhere - sheer energy, as if a tidal wave of pure pleasure had suddenly wveetly smothered the masses. ZAP ZAP ZAP -- People going nuts, Jumping up and down, up and down. The sweat was pumping out like rivers. The glistening bodies were nearly on top of each other now . . . 300,000 of them writhing as if possessed. And they were possessed, driven without control by Garcia's sounds, swaying them up and down, side to side . . . you knew when it was coming Jerry would sort of be playing along regular and then he'd get this grin on his bushy face and this mad twinkle in his eyes and he'd slide up to the edge of the stage and pointing his guitar like a machine gun, fire off these seemingly endless riffs of pure ecstasy and ZAP, the crowd would go absolutely nuts. Screaming and yelling, hootin' and hollerin' and just generally having a completely fantastic time . . . and Garcia would keep doing it to you and you couldnit help but think, My God, how does he do it? and you keep moving up and down and all around more . identity you're no longer you any you've completely lost your you're just another part of monsterous mass of moving flesh. the' w You're so emersed in scene you barely notice the fifteen old nubile in front of you taking off clothes. There she is completely obliv to the whole world except the music she's jumping up and down and so you, but, Christ, how are you suppi to stay plugged into the sound vi these beautiful bouncing buttocks prancing around, about six inches f you but still you flow . . . still yo wvept up and away, higher and highe that insane music coming and coming

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The Tri-Trip Kid's looking to score and someone from the back is passing out free acid. Hey man! Do you think I could have some of that? Yeh . . . wow . . l'd surely appreciate it! Sure, brother. Crawling on all fours, the Good Samaritan makes his way through the audience and says, How much ya want? Tri-Trip says half embarrassed, half proud, Well, I like to trip triple, ya know. I really wanna get off today. G.S. pours about half a teaspoon of the sparkling turquoise blue powder into the Kid's hand. Cupping his hand he carefully places the blue next to his left nostril, closes his other nostril with his right index finger and takes a mighty snort ,... and another . . .and another, then licks his hand for good measure. The Tri-Trip Kid wrinkles his nose, contorts his peach fuzz face a bit and smiles contentedly. Well, now, . . . where's my pipe? Got some really good hash 'round here somewhere. Meanwhile, some chick's trying to get on the 13 foot high stage much to the delight of her fellow crazies in the front. Bill Graham doesn't tolerate that kind of fun though and proceeded to inform her that if you don't get down, I'm going to throw you off! Graham was probably a little nervous anyway, because the show was scheduled to begin in a few minutes and start it did, right on time, twelve noon, high noon - just maybe the highest noon ever to be recorded in man's history. photos by Kevin Deland -sy i sh Ryu. H ' ,,:,- 1 1 If Q. M... , , Timm . ' f sl I 735 ' E X .f' . 1.

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ryone else keeps coming and coming I coming and that's exactly what it s: ONE FREAKING GLORIOUS iSSlVE COMMUNAL FOUR HOUR NE ORGASMH!!! TRANSITION While the audience went bananas, Dead left the stage to be replaced hin the hour by the Band. They were equally well recieved but ir set marked a noticeable change in prevailing level of consciousness. lf there had been any evidence of civilized behavior during the afternoon, it was soon to disappear. The Band was interrupted on three different occasions. The first distraction came when four skydivers, carrying orange smoke flares descended from the heavens, much to the delight of the festival goers. They unknowingly cheered the death of one of the parachutists as his flare went haywire. He had burned to death before hitting the ground. The other distractions also came from the sky: rainstorms forced the Band .ffl off stage on two different occasions. When they finally finished their set, a moist darkness had enveloped the crowd and the concert site, previously a grassy knoll, had turned into a reeking stench pot of tons of garbage and mud nearly a foot deep. Those who didn't return to their campsites to dry off, were more than ready to get down to itg get down in the slime and boogie with the Allman Brothers. Enthusiasm bordering hysteria greeted the group who immediately proceeded to lay it on thick, one well known song after another, for nearly three and a half hours. Those who manage to elbow their way to the front of the stage at concerts are traditionally a loose bunch of folks. But the hundreds who shuffled for boogieing room in the two foot deep puddles surrounding the base of the stage . . . whew!!??!! Half-naked bodies writhing rhythmetically, ceaselessly, violently, ecstatically determined to displace every pound of mud beneath their feet. Legs pumping furiously, arms flinging everywhere, wild eyes popping out of mud splashed faces . . . women with shaved heads . . . naked men grabbing at invisable objects in the blackness of night . . . drunks pissing in the same puddles everyone else is dancing in . . .and while the down freaks collapsed into the wetness of mother earth, dope was still being consumed in quantities unparalleled in the annals of drugdom. The Allman's took a hardly noticed ten minute break. Then more rain, more mud and more music. They eventually finished their set nearly five hours after they took to the stage. And then, to seemingly drain everyone of any iota of energy not already expended, all three groups came back out and jammed for over an hour. The amps were finally unplugged at 3:30 Sunday morning. Summer Jam had run its course. I was anxious to leave. lt was pointless to hitch within a ten mile radius of the glen. First off, it was a good deal quicker to walk. A town which normally houses a population of 3000 just isn't equipped to handle a 600,000 commuting crazies. Secondly, the majority of the vehicles were already packed beyond a reasonable capacity, inside 5 well as out - hoods, roofs, bumpers, any place a body could hang on.