Dear Mudcatters,

This is my first post to this forum. I have been reading old threads for a few days and I am deeply impressed with the degree of knowledge and caring and fun that you all share with each other.

I found this old thread in the archives, and I cried while reading it. You see, I remember Fox Hollow too, but through the eyes of a small child. I was born in the late '60's in Saratoga Springs, New York. My parents started going to Caffe Lena in '62, with my older brothers who were born in the mid '50's. In the early '70's, my brothers were full-fledged folkies; I loved hanging around them and their friends and dancing and singing, though as a toddler and young girl I couldn't hang out with the teenagers and older folkies as much as I wanted.

I remember that during the year the felt patches for Fox Hollow would sit in a bowl or drawer; they had a picture of a fox on them, and sometimes (is this right?) the letters VIF ("very important fox").

I remember that my brothers would go out to Fox Hollow for the event and I would visit them with my parents on a day trip.

I remember one year in a series of images: driving out and parking in the hot sun with hay bales (?) near the lot; sitting cross-legged with my brother and his girlfriend in their tent; walking along a wooden footpath or bridge to the outhouse/toilet and marveling at the long electric cables strung with light bulbs. I don't specifically remember any of the music or dancing. I do remember wishing more than anything that I could stay.

I think my whole life I've been trying somehow to regain that warm summer gathering, with music and dancing, people talking about freedom and love and justice, people making music and community together.

Thank you for giving me the space to remember this.

Sarah T, Washington DC USA