I was a very young man, 14 or 15 maybe when I by only a stroke of luck or fate I made it to the Fox Hollow festival. We had been to a gathering the year before at the house on the grounds there, and to the beers house on the lake in hoosick falls the year before. The first year at the gathering though was like some wonderful dream. We had driven from Michigan all day and night to be there for a thanksgiving weekend gathering. I wanted so badly to be what all the people were. I can't even remember who exactly was there. I know the Armstrongs and the Boyers were I remember cuz they had kids that were kinda coming my age. I thought they were the luckiest kids in the world. I remember Bob Luurtsma was there and that he was very funny and kind to us youngsters from Michigan. The music was non-stop. Bob began playing the fiddle at 7;00 am. I was amazed that it was literally happening right in front of my awakening eyes. I thought fiddlers and folk musicians in general needed to play late in the evening. The thought of playing first thing in the morning had never accured to my young brain. Overload. This is what I remember most. I remember John Dildine taking me aside and showing me the easy rocking motion in his right hand as he played the banjo. He saved my life. I remember Gil Turner arriving at the party late of friday evening and literally sleeping til Sunday morning on the floor waking up just as everyone was getting ready to leave. He sang a song I can't remember. But his road wearyness was a statement as powerful as any music that weekend. He slept through the entire party with it going sturm and drang all around him for 2 days. I always loved him for that and everyone there who knew he needed to be there if only to sleep. And what dreams he must have had.