On Woodstock 99 weekend, a look back at Woodstock '69 and the yeshiva kid who sang at the greatest rock show of them all. R JONATHAN MARK Special to the Jewish News oute 17 had seen some legendary traffic jams but nothing like this. Catskill-bound cars were being parked along the highway shoulders and then in the lanes of the highway itself. • Drivers got out and started walk- ing. It was a hot August, 30 years ago this summer, and along with weekend husbands" returning to bungalow colonies and Jewish hotels, a half-million longhairs were headed to an Aquarian exposition" at Max Yasgur's alfalfa farm. A billboard for Brown's Hotel fea- tured a caricature of Jerry Lewis. On other billboards, men were shown golf- ing in billowy slacks. A third billboard advertised the "Woodstock Music and CC Jonathan Mark is associate editor of the New York Jewish Week. 7/23 1999 84 Detroit Jewish News ootistock's `Child Of God' Art Fair" in White Lake, N.Y. The ad Sweetwater, Incredible String Band, depicted a cartoony white dove Tim Hardin, Bert Sommer — were perched on a blue-green guitar neck. forces with which to reckon. Alan Cooper, 19, left his friend's Then there were the heavyweight car in a ditch and started walking. champs: the Grateful Dead; Jimi Unlike the millions around him, Hendrix; Sly and the Family Stone; Cooper was booked to sing at Mountain; The Who; Blood, Sweat & Woodstock with an unknown band, Tears; Joe Cocker; The Band; Crosby, called Sha-Na-Na. Stills & Nash; Janis Joplin; Canned The 12-man aggregation, com- Heat; Ten Years After; Joan Baez; John prised of college kids from Columbia, Sebastian; and Arlo Guthrie. signed a contract to sing for $750, This was to be the company, that which worked out to $62.50 for for one weekend, Cooper kept. Cooper. They had to arrange for their But those bands were being heli- own transportation. coptered in from Oh, by the way, that Above: Sha-Na-Na: "The guys Grossinger's and from same $62.50 gave up front would wear gold other great hotels from away all royalty rights lame suits like the kind they the Catskills' golden age. used in Bye-Bye Birdie." Cooper was just walking from the Woodstock movie and gold- along Route 17. record soundtrack. It all began the autumn before, in Woodstock, for those of you who 1968, when Cooper was a religion are younger than springtime, was the major at Columbia, a Jewish kid fresh all-star musical summit of the rock from a childhood in Long Island era. Even the musicians, perhaps for- where he graduated from HANC, the gotten from that distant time — Hebrew Academy of Nassau County, before his family moved to New Jersey. Columbia was the site, then, of some of the nastiest college riots in a decade of nasty college riots. But Cooper preferred singing. He joined a longstanding campus group, the Kingsmen, which did close har- monies and pop tunes. At a campus concert, when they sang numbers like, "Well I Think I'm Going Out of My Head," the reaction was, shall we say, lukewarm. However, says Cooper, who sang bass, "every time we sang an oldie, like 'The Book of Love,' the crowd went berserk." These oldies weren't all that old. Some were hits just six or seven years before, but in the purple haze of 1968, it could as well have been antediluvian. At the next concert, the Kingsmen slicked back their hair, wore pointy shoes, tight jeans and tighter T-shirts, in one of the .first '50s parodies. "For `CHILD OF GOD' on page 86