I was 15, so I had to hide from the musicians union, since I was way underage. It was at the Ambassador Theater, Washington‘s unsuccessful attempt at having a local version of the Fillmore East.
A guy we know had done the sound system for the place, and we would sometimes hang at his house for experimental recording. On the way back to Virginia one Saturday in the Fall of 1967, he asked if we could spare an hour while he did a sound check at the Ambassador. We said sure. He said we had better bring our instruments and amps with us as the van risked being broken into. So we did. There were only three of us along, since the fourth, the rhythm guitarist, was at home in Virginia. So we brought our stuff inside. Our friend said we might as well set up and play a little, as his sound check would go faster if he could do it with a live band. So we did. The hall was empty and had great acoustics, so we sounded incredible.
Suddenly a guy shows up out of nowhere and asks who we were? We said we were friends of Van, the sound guy, and who was he? He said, „I own this place.“ Oops! We apologized for the noise, and said we‘d stop right away. He said, no it was alright, and by the way, were we doing anything that night? Ummm, NOT ANY MORE!!
We got to open for Junior Wells, Canned Heat and the Youngbloods on successive weekends. In the Woodstock video, I see they had a new lead guitarist. I played bass and keyboards in my group, so I used to hang with Larry, their bass player, who was generous with tips on his style.
Those WERE the days!
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