One of the great thrills I experienced in writing The Far Out Story of Vortex I was meeting Dr. Cameron Bangs, the medical genius behind providing care at the festival. I included his entire 20,000-word, in-the-moment diary in the book and consider it the greatest document of its kind in the history of that era. I only wish I could have brought it to the attention of a larger audience. Dr. Bangs was so generous to me: use the diary Matt, use all my photos. I dearly miss him and his unique Oregon spirit. (Dr. Bangs is at right in the photo.)

Excerpt From Dr. Cameron Bangs’ Vortex Diary

Several of us walked to the bandstand area. Rock music had gone on all night and it was indeed a strange scene the following morning. It was foggy, with visibility limited to about 100 feet. Through the fog, in the still of the morning, with a little dew on the ground we could hear the loud and somewhat lonely twangs of the guitars on the stage, playing rather erratically, definitely not together, sort of the dying embers of previous night’s loud music.

There were a few voices coming up through the fog, a few from the stage as if people were making an effort to continue some sort of activity. As we walked towards the stage, sleeping bags became so thick that you were continually stepping over or around them. With the visibility of about 100 feet it appeared as if bodies extended forever on into eternity. People were sleeping as if they had obviously been drugged the night before. People huddling on top of sleeping bags shivering rather than getting inside. People sleeping with their heads bent over logs and in obviously uncomfortable positions. Here and there were a boy and girl cuddled together in a sleeping bag oblivious to the numerous people around them. Wine bottles were extremely common, it appeared as if there were a thousand of them, mostly the half gallon green variety of the cheap wine being sold in the park.

There were many people awake, stirring, a few fires going, people trying to keep warm. It had gotten quite cold during the night. A few small groups were playing guitars by themselves. A few just waking up and sitting up wondering what the hell had gone on the night before. The whole scene reminded us the morning after a battle. It also reminded me of my days back on the East Coast when we had hurricanes, violent weather, wind, floods, during the night when we were all huddled together and frightened, and by morning it would be calm and the damage and destruction laying around.

At this point, I can recall, perhaps through the sleeplessness and fatigue, the excitement of such a new experience. I became quite reflective on the whole scene and wondered if it was worth it all and what were these people doing here freezing on the ground, obviously hung over from drugs or alcohol? Why couldn’t they be home in clean sheets with mother cooking bacon or coffee for them and lead some sort of normal existence? What drove these kids to this masochistic self harming existence? At this time several of us discussed what we as individuals could possibly do to correct this situation. Could it be corrected? Why should we get swallowed up and involved in this, what seemed to be, an overwhelming situation?

(The following is a compendium of Vortex Voices I collected during the researching of the book. They tell the story, the many sides of it, so well.)

“Hosting an official pot festival would probably cost him the election. Tom knew that. I told him that’s the likely outcome. I also told him it was the only responsible thing to do. We cannot have hordes of people running around Portland.” Ed Westerdahl, Governor McCall’s Executive Assistant.

“I’ve just committed political suicide,” Governor McCall, after giving the go ahead for Vortex I. Governor Tom McCall.

“I hope they all go to hell. What is their purpose except sex and drugs?”

From a letter to Governor McCall

“Why is it that you are so willing to coddle these filthy ugly longhairs?”

From a letter to Governor McCall

“We needed to express our highly romantic notions of the cultural revolution.” Lee Meier, The Family

“We had nothing on the material plane that showed that it could happen, that it was physically possible. We didn’t have a site. We didn’t have any money. There was nor real organization. But we had this belief that it was going to happen. That’s all.” Glen Swift, The Family.

“The hippies at least profess peace and love for their brothers. Nowhere else do I see a people that even try to say such a thing. The hippies have made a start that most of us are afraid to take.”

Jim Remington, letter to the Oregonian

“This place is holy. In the future this place will be regarded with the same adoration as Jerusalem, Gethsemane.”

A Vortex organizer as quoted by the Oregonian

“I wish God would destroy this park and all in it right now–I would gladly go.”

A Vortex visitor as quoted by the Oregonian

“Yeah, I was there man, in a band called Mother Smucker’s Jam, it was wild, insane. I was 21 years old living with two horny chicks in a chicken shack near Estacada on some old freak’s land. I might have been the first person there. Vortex man, it was my first gig!” Mike Esquire

“I’ll never forget walking from the area where we were set up, over to the edge of a hill sloping down to the Clackamas River. As we peered over the edge, we were shocked and delighted to observe around a dozen young girls naked in and around the water. Needless to say, four guys fresh out of high school, went absolutely wild.” Don McFadden, Jacob’s Ladder

“I was working my gold mine in the Siskyous and needed a ride into town for supplies. I got a ride and ended up in a state park 300 miles away. Some kind of festival I had never heard of was about to take place and I got drafted to help run the stage. I met John Lennon down in front and he was a really nice guy, and wanted to talk, but I had to do a job.” Harold Wilson.

We were tearing down local barns to build the stage. It was not going well. One day a helicopter landed and a bunch of suits come out. We thought it was the FBI, but it turned out to be timber executives. I remember taking off my gloves so I could hold hands. We formed a circle, said a silent prayer, and then one of them said, “Let’s get down to business. What do you need?” The next day a crane, pro crews, and beautiful, old growth lumber showed up.” Reggie deSoto

“I remember seeing a woman directing traffic topless and she wasn’t using her hands. It was quite a treat.”

From Clackamas County Sheriff’s Deputy Jim Landles

“A bunch of Legionnaires showed up at the gate swigging from bottles of Jack Daniel’s. They had come directly from the airport. It was headed for violence when a blonde surfer dude with nothing on but boxer shorts jumped up on the barricade. “I just got back from Vietnam 17 days ago and I was shooting people, man. Inside, here, that’s what you fought for man, so we could Rock and Roll!” They all embraced and went inside Vortex together.” Garrick Beck

“We got grub from the Family’s communal kitchen and bread from the Jesus freaks. The Jesus freaks had brought a large supply of unleavened bread. When you went to their camp to ask for some, they would always say, “Yes, but man does not live by bread alone.” Larry Klinger.

“A dump truck brought in some reject presto logs, back then they burned in different colors. The drivers asks, ‘What color logs you want?” I said, “We’re already seeing colors.” David Dumas

“About 200 people from PAJ got about 20 feet from the stage. All of a sudden ladies all around them dropped their clothes, lovely, lovely. Every one of these men had two ladies on them saying “peace brother, love brother.” It was the most effective technique in non-violence I’ve ever seen in my life.” Ed Westerdahl

“There was a National Guardsman, some kid, stationed on the other side of the Clackamas River. He walked into the river and started taking off all of his uniform. Went totally naked. Hundreds of people went out to surround him, and put clothes on him. We gave him some ID and he made it out of the park.” Garrick Beck

“Have you heard about the lockers? Yeah, the drug lockers. All the law enforcement agencies in the area took all their confiscated drugs and gave them away at Vortex…the sandwich board guy was giving it away…he was probably a narc…all the different pots were blended together, it was incredible.” They probably emptied every drug locker in the state.” Tom Cherry

“It was that night when I saw the flat bed trucks slowly drive into the crowd I remember seeing at least 3 at different points in the crowd the one nearest my panel had I would say about 10 or so huge gunny sacks like you would see full of  cotton (big), any way I could see they were throwing something out from these bags I yelled out over here and sure enough one of the guys on the back of this truck threw one at me I missed the first toss but caught the second one and later found out the one I missed, was caught by one of the people with me. well guess what, it was a good 1/4 pound maybe more of pot, it looked like it was compressed into a block and with my friend catching one we had a lot of pot for 5 people and the next day everyone around us was lighting up all day long.” Ron J.

“A guy in his late 60s/early 70s dressed like Gene Autry in silver and sequins came riding up on a horse. I had a joint and he had a pint of whiskey. I traded him a couple of swigs of the pint for a hit off my joint. Then he rode off into the sunset.” David Dumas

“I was the first private car into Vortex, a new Dodge Yellow Charger with seven miles on the odometer. I drove a bunch of hippies back and forth to Salem to meet with McCall. I remember running a mile at full speed down to the river, on mescaline, and not even being winded. I had been drafted but didn’t know it and ended up serving six months in jail for refusing to enlist.” Ted Veremonte

“The whole episode was a great contribution to an understanding between the ages and generations.”

Governor McCall

“It still makes my stomach turn to see all the Vortex people so happily stoned and dancing in the mud. They were every bit as self-indulgent and uncaring about the war as their parents.”

Doug Weiskopf, People’s Army Jamboree.

“Now that I stayed home from my vacation and worked so I can pay taxes so the governor can throw an orgy for all the punks at McIver Park, I am interested in a little breakdown of the costs.”

letter to the Oregonian

“I was convinced we were going to make a counterculture vision that would last.” Lee Meier, The Family

“I feel I inadvertently participated in a sell-out, The state redirected the energy of people like me and it worked, absolutely.” Michael Carr, The Family

“They used rock festivals, our culture, to crush our political dissent.”

Michael McCusker, People’s Army Jamboree

“It was the greatest event in the history of the world,” Barry Adams, Rainbow Family.

“Yeah, it worked. Because nothing happened in Portland.” Bill Brooks, Clackamas County Sheriff’s Deputy

At Vortex, the small freedoms of being able to go naked and smoke dope were won while the larger freedoms like the right to live in a humane society where people have control over their lives were lost.”

Editorial from The Bridge

“Is it all right now for mobs of people to do what no one person can do? Do we reason with adults and require compliance with the laws, then resort to trickery and bribery with young people (an insult to most young people by the way)? These are the double standards of Vortex. These are the enduring damages we’ll pay for in countless ways. We’re paying for them already.” Bob Straub, State Treasurer.

“The Vortex crowds were not bought off protesters. They were local kids who had no interest in political marches, but were interested in a party…In that sense, Vortex had its intended effect. But the myth that Vortex drained off thousands of people who would have rampaged through downtown still lingers.”

Brent Walth, Fire at Eden’s Gate, Tom McCall and the Oregon Story.

“It worked, it absolutely worked.” Ed Westerdahl.

“This was a model, a model to decide whether we will be able to hold peaceful conventions in the United States.” Governor McCall.

(An excerpt from my book, The Far Out Story of Vortex I)

September 2, 1970. Vortex I wasn’t officially over until tomorrow, but almost all of the revelers were gone.

A hippie cleanup crew coordinating out of a tepee called Rainbow remained behind. They were assisting Frank Styles heal the grounds in hope that McIver Park would be ready for the upcoming Labor Day weekend. After breakfast, work proceeded until a rumor surfaced: the Oregon National Guard was set to move in and confront any freaks still left in the park.

Word spread that Governor McCall was in the park. He had landed by helicopter. This was an unscheduled appearance, at least to the hippies. Curious, several of them decided to hike to the upper level to meet him.

As the hippies walked to the helicopter, McCall conferred with Styles. The governor insisted the park be put right and suggested that, “All it needs is some grass seed and fertilizer,” horticulture advice that later one of his aides joked in a handwritten memo should be changed to “Acapulco Gold.”

Styles told McCall he would plant Oregon fescue and assured the park would be restored in no time. Styles also mentioned how hard and how well the hippies had worked in collaboration with parks’ employees. With this last comment, Styles returned to work.

The hippies arrived and there the 6’5” McCall stood, wearing a dark sport coat, dark slacks, dark turtleneck, dark loafers and dark glasses.

McCall had wanted to attend the festival earlier at its peak, but Ed Westerdahl and Ron Schmidt vetoed that idea. Still, the governor felt compelled to visit because, as he later wrote, “…if my administration was going to be voted out…I wanted to be a witness to the scene that was responsible.”

One might have expected a big media showcase. But there were no reporters, film crews or photographers. Accompanied only by a state police officer, McCall walked over when he saw the long hairs approaching. They hugged.

McCall thanked them for their effort and assured the National Guard would not accost or harm them in any way. He gave his word. Then Oregon’s Republican governor and the hippies joined hands and formed a circle. They chanted “oms” for a few minutes, recited the Lord’s Prayer, and concluded with several other literary verses, including one by William Blake.

One of the hippies said, “Governor, I’d like to stay in touch.”

“I’ll do that,” McCall said.

Postscript from 2020: I later learned that the Eagle Feather Ceremony was also performed in the circle. I interviewed a man named Reggie DeSoto who was there and did the performing.

Incredible. Was this not the most astonishing moment in modern Oregon history? Could you imagine Governor Kate Brown or any state politician from either party coming around a circle like that after putting everything on the line with a state-sponsored rock festival for peace?

No. And we need something of that spirit today.

In 1970, some freak wrote in a San Francisco underground newspaper:“So that what you have in effect is a Charlie Manson-Jerry Rubin-Angela Davis-Johnathan Jackson-Bernadette Dohrn-Huey Newton-Timothy Leary-Rolling Stone-monster heading directly for downtown Portland where the American Legion is planning this year’s Victory in Vietnam Parade.”

President Nixon was scheduled to speak at the Legion Convention. Anti-war protesters were going to swarm Portland and battle the Legionnaires. The melee would top the 1968 Democratic convention (riot) in Chicago.

To keep the peace, Governor Tom McCall and hippies collaborated to stage the only state-sponsored rock festival in American history. One hundred thousand people attended this free event at McIver State Park near Estacada.

There was no violence in Portland. There was a helluva party at McIver Park.

It was called Vortex I: A Biodegradable Festival of Life. It is THE most far out story in American history. There will never be another like it. And it only could have happened in Oregon.

Just some of the evidence:

• McCall, a Republican, faced a tough a re-election vote later that fall. When he approved the festival, he said, “I’ve just committed political suicide.”
• The Portland Red Cross and law enforcement agencies gave away illegal drugs inside McIver Park.
• The state’s most powerful corporate executive of that era, the Cascade Corporation’s Robert Warren, drove a pickup truck full of licorice out to the park.
• Someone brought a cougar on a leash. Someone brought and anaconda that escaped its leash.
• The Red Cross and local law enforcement officials dumped drugs in the park.
• A very tall and naked African American hot dog vendor in the park advertised by wearing a red balloon over his penis.
• Vortex I’s cast of characters, in the flesh and the edges of the story, include: Spiro Agnew, the Rainbow Family, Matt Groening, John Kerry, Lothar and the Hand People, Donald Rumsfeld, and perhaps even Al Franken and Hunter S. Thompson.
• At the festival’s end, McCall, visited the park and held hands with some long hairs. They chanted “oms” for a few minutes and then recited the Lord’s Prayer.

Oh there is more evidence, a lot evidence.

Just think what we could do in Oregon back then. What can we do today during the crisis of our lifetimes? There is still much to be learned from Vortex. I celebrate it not out of nostalgia. I celebrate it for its unique risk-taking strategy to solve a serious civic problem, a strategy that bucked all conventional wisdom.

We could use an idea like that now.