Harry Northup: First-Hand & Personal at Altamont

By Harvey Kubernik

Forty years ago on December 6, 1969, the Altamont Speedway was the site of a well documented free rock concert held in Northern California between the cities of Tracy and Livermore.

Following The Rolling Stones planned U.S. tour conclusion, the U.K.-based band organized a headline performance  that was to feature the Flying Burrito Brothers, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Santana, Jefferson Airplane and Grateful Dead (who chose not to take the stage owing to increasing violence on the premises) for a free thank you concert to America.  It was a gesture acknowledging their successful 1969 U.S. trek.

Initially the event was slated for Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, and then Kezar Stadium, but scheduling conflicts emerged due to a San Francisco 49ers football game. Subsequently; the Sears Point Raceway was also considered before the festival secured the Altamont Raceway.

In 2009 Graham Nash recalled for MOJO" magazine about Altamont and the CSN&Y set that afternoon.

"It was very obvious from the very beginning that this was gonna be fucked," Graham offered over the phone from his house in Hawaii. "First of all, getting in there.  There was no way we could get into Altamont. It was insane. So my friend Leo Makota, who was our tour manager, hot wired a car. Him, us, and the lawyer Melvin Belli, together, made it into Altamont. But it was fucked from the start. First of all, the music that they played between acts was electronic music."

Nash also commented about the Grateful Dead who declined to perform at Altamont.

"And we were only there for Jerry (Garcia). ‘Cause it was Jerry that called Crosby and said, ‘Hey man, we're gonna do this Woodstock West, man. You gotta be a part of it. We'll all be there, man.' We played and were not even sure how well we played. Maybe 45 minutes or something and we got the fuck out," volunteered Nash.    

More than 300,000 people attended the gathering. Legendary filmmakers Albert and David Maysles captured the environment and musical action, later integrating the revealing celluloid results into their documentary "Gimme Shelter," theatrically released in 1970.

Altamont is perhaps best known for having been marred by chaos, tension and fights between the hired security Hell's Angels with some of the stage performers and the cramped crowd themselves, resulting in three accidental deaths, allegedly four births and the  homicide of Meredith Hunter.    

But contrary to popular belief, amidst all the madness and the well intended good karma gesture from the Rolling Stones that went haywire at their makeshift Altamont booking, there are many attendees from this well chronicled gig who had a good time and left with a sense of wonder and delight.

One of them is actor Harry E. Northup.

Born in Texas, raised in Nebraska, with a stint in New York and living in California since 1968, the longtime East Hollywood based actor/poet  has appeared in 37 films, including Mean Streets, Taxi Driver and The Silence of the Lambs.

Northup is that rare American actor who is also an accomplished poet. He has written nine books of poetry; the latest  is Red Snow Fence published by Cahuenga Press.

"I was working as a waiter at the Old World Restaurant on the Sunset Strip," recalled Northup from his home in East Hollywood "My first wife, Rita, & I had arrived in Los Angeles, from New York City on March 5, 1968. That day we got an apartment in Santa Monica and that night, I got a job as a waiter at the Old World. I came to L.A. to work in the movies. I worked at night and auditioned for movie and TV roles in the day. We hung out at the beach & went to every rock 'n' roll concert that we could at the Santa Monica Civic, Palladium and Venice Beach."

"Rita & I and our 10-month-old son, Dylan, drove to San Francisco on December 5th, 1969," he continues, "in our blue & white Volkswagen van. It had a bed in the back. We slept in it in the Haight. The morning of the 6th, we ate at Brother Juniper's -- I remember seeing a black man, sitting next to us, with a cross cut into the top of his head -- and then we drove to Altamont. It was slow going when we got near the Speedway. We parked on the side of the road and walked a long way. We took turns carrying Dylan."
 

"At the concert," ruminates Harry, "we met five long-haired surfer guys and three girls we knew from Santa Monica. It was a gray day. It seemed like half a million people were there.  We had driven up Pacific Coast Highway many times from Santa Monica to see the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin and the Paul Butterfield  Blues Band, among others, in Golden Gate Park and other venues, but had never been at a gathering this large."

"Most of the time, we stayed on the perimeter and danced. My wife loved the Stones. She pranced and pointed and sang like Mick. She had seen the Beatles at Shea Stadium years before."

"Harvey Keitel, who was my fellow student in Frank Corsaro's Method acting class in Manhattan, had introduced her to me at the one party that I had given in New York City in the five years that I lived there, from 1963-1968. He also introduced me to Martin Scorsese, who hired me to play The Rapist in his first feature, Who's That Knocking At My Door in 1968. Marty hired me to act in his first six features and first TV show. Bette Midler, by the way, sang Bob Dylan's ‘A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall' at that same party," he recalls.    

"We shared joints, people gave us food: fruit, juices, sandwiches. Our surfer friends danced, held Dylan. Once, I snaked my way down to the left side of the stage just as the Stones sang, ‘Jumpin' Jack Flash.' It was electric. I saw a young woman, who kept trying to climb up onto the stage, and at each attempt, a Hells Angel, who wore a wolf's head kicked her in the face. She must have been a masochist, because she kept going back for more. I headed back to our group. We danced and had a wonderful time. The Stones and Santana were tremendous. We felt renewed." 


The Rolling Stones played "Brown Sugar" live that evening for the first time during their Altamont repertoire.

"It was a long slow journey back to our VW. It wasn't until we were driving south on the 5 Freeway that we heard, on the radio, about the killing at Altamont," recounts Northup.