Woodstock Not: Laurel Made Our History
Woodstock Not: Laurel Made Our History in Life (Magazine) "Laurel is on the pages of Life magazine!” Roger shouted. It was days after Woodstock and celebrity was in the neighborhood. Laurel was our celebrity. She didn't just GO to Woodstock - she was memorialized in the pages of Life magazine. It was Instagram 1969. No one was surprised. But like a celebrity, Laurel was also a stranger. Whenever and wherever she appeared, Laurel smelled like fresh sex in broad daylight. Laurel was gloriously wanton, whorishly flush when she'd smile at a new man. She was at least 25 years old, the first old hippie I met in the 1960s. Blue-eyed and beautiful, her dark roots peeking through short blonde curls, Laurel could run her fingers through her hair and take over a room upon entering. She commanded the panting admiration of younger men, older men and most in between. She was sleeping with Roger and Tom and maybe Rob, and didn't care if Richie Havens or Joe Cocker would show