Interview With the Dead Boy - Raymond Mizsak
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From the anthology, Complaining to the Clock, a work in progress. This is experimental writing. I am interviewing a dead person, the 17 year old boy who died at the Woodstock Music and Art Fair in Bethel, New York back in 1969. He was accidentally run over early on Saturday morning by a tractor while asleep in his sleeping bag. I have read from four different sources that there were two fatalities at Woodstock that weekend. Some others state that there were three deaths. Any way you stack it, though, 2-3 deaths out of a half million people is excellent odds for survival, except for this boy, named Raymond.
Interview with The Dead Boy -Raymond Mizsak
So Raymond, do you know what happened to you? Why you died?
Yeah, I know what happened to me, man,
but I don’t remember it happening,
Cause I was in my sleeping bag sleeping,
I never heard nothing that morning, except, wait,
I do remember some guys talking from the stage
saying good morning everyone, then all the sudden
I am hearing nothing.
Where I am now, you get to find out what happened to ya,
you know, when you croak.
Never thought I’d be run over by a freaking tractor, man!
Heard later a couple other dudes died there like me.
A big bummer in the summer.
So Raymond, where were you from before dying at Woodstock?
I grew up in New Jersey in areas around Newark,
My house was always filled with music and dancing on the rug,
From Jim Lowe to Fats Domino to Buddy Holly,
then Elvis and Bobby Rydell, and Frankie Avalon
to Jimmy Charles and Ricky Nelson, man,
those were some kind of crazy great times for music!
But the best music was still to come!
Beatles and the Stones were rocking and knocking
inside my bedroom walls in 1965!
Then came the greatest, the Jimi Hendrix Experience,
the band I went to see at Woodstock!
But, he went last man, and…by then, damn!
I went to Woodstock, not to die, man,
but to hear the music of The Experience!
Instead I heard Sweetwater and Ravi Shankar,
while lying in the grass there, looking up at the stars.
Dig It! Like it was really really cool, man.
Like, I had a psychedelic experience, man!
I was with this chick named Prism and
We cried tears when Ravi played…
I can still hear him, man! Still hear him playing
that cool haunting music, as it soared winglike
way up high there, in the heavy air that night;
Think I saw my death coming before it happened, man!
Had some icebag from Prism as a sort of cocktail,
And then I saw a lot more than stars!
I saw gods in the millions coming out of the crowd
like electrified gnats in misery after a black rain.
Raymond, were you there when Richie Havens played?
Yeah man, I was there.
He was on stage playing his guitar like a madman.
It seemed like he’d play forever ‘cause
Sweetwater couldn’t get in! Too much freaking traffic!
But yeah, man, I saw him play.
Great guitar strumming on a few of those pieces.
Handsome Johnny, that’s it!
I remember now, he was playing Handsome Johnny
when I met this brown-eyed girl named Prism.
She had reefer,
so we went to the same field where I died,
and we smoked away my final night,
through Bert Sommer and Tim Hardin, until
Ravi Shankar took the stage with his sitar.
Any lessons to be learned in retrospect Raymond?
No man. No lessons to be learned at all!
Dude, look at me, I am a dead kid,
A dude who never grew up.
Never became a man or a father with a family,
Never found love with a girl or had a career.
I am eternally seventeen because
Some stoned idiot ran over me with his tractor
On a sunny Saturday morning in August of ’69,
while I was sleeping, man!
I was only sleeping!
No lessons learned at all!
Interview over now.
Copyright © Stark Hunter | Year Posted 2019
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