Imagine setting out on a journey, fueled by the promise of legendary music and camaraderie, only to find yourself amidst a sprawling, chaotic spectacle unlike anything conceived. This feeling of venturing into the unknown, a true rock and roll frontier, was the reality for hundreds of thousands who descended upon a remote stretch of farmland in the Midwest during Labor Day weekend of 1972. The video above provides a compelling glimpse into this legendary event, often remembered as one of the most infamous rock festivals in American history.
Officially known as the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival, but more commonly called the Bull Island Festival, this event etched itself into the memories of all who attended, albeit with a complex mix of nostalgia and disbelief. It was a crucible of 1970s counterculture, unprepared logistics, and sheer human will, embodying both the dreams and the disarray of an era defined by grand, often unruly, gatherings.
The Ambitious Genesis of a Midwestern Festival
The vision for such a monumental event was initially conceived by two ambitious promoters, Bob Alexander and Tom Duncan, who recognized the pervasive popularity of rock music in 1972. They sought to capitalize on this cultural phenomenon by bringing a major music festival to the heart of the Midwest. Their initial venture, the Bosse Field Freedom Fest in Evansville, Indiana, on July 2nd, had featured significant acts like Tina Turner, Edgar Winter, and Dr. John, proving their ability to attract big names.
However, the success of the Bosse Field event also introduced a new kind of audience—the free-spirited “hippies” whose presence in a traditional Midwestern city proved unsettling to local authorities. Richard Wallace, a witness to the era, recalls how Evansville simply was not prepared for this counterculture wave. The promoters, undeterred by local discomfort, then planned an even larger second festival for Labor Day weekend, hoping to repeat and expand on their previous success.
A Shifting Landscape: From City to Wilderness
Evansville’s Mayor Russell Lloyd made it abundantly clear that any further large-scale music events would not be permitted within city or Vanderburgh County limits. This initial rejection set off a frantic search for a suitable new venue, an endeavor that quickly spiraled into a series of rejections from neighboring counties. Initially, the Chandler Raceway in Chandler, Indiana, was considered, with expectations of drawing around 50,000 attendees.
Promotion for this event was launched aggressively, including a full-page advertisement in Rolling Stone magazine, which quickly led to substantial pre-sale ticket sales. This national advertising, however, also inadvertently attracted widespread attention, particularly from radio station WLS in Chicago, which reportedly broadcast festival information every 15 to 30 minutes. This extensive coverage was later identified as a primary reason for the astonishingly massive crowd that eventually gathered, far exceeding initial estimates.
As the planned Labor Day weekend approached, local officials across southwestern Indiana and even parts of Illinois became increasingly alarmed. Dan Davis, an attendee, noted how the sheer volume of incoming people began to “invade” nearby towns. Legal injunctions were filed by nearly every county—including Vanderburgh, Posey, and Gibson—to prevent the festival from taking place in their jurisdictions. Promoters found themselves with no legal venue and thousands of ticket holders expecting a show, creating an extraordinary logistical crisis.
Bull Island: The Solution and the Problem
With time rapidly running out and facing immense pressure, the promoters discovered Bull Island, a peculiar geographical anomaly along the Wabash River. This specific tract of land, while situated on the Indiana side of the river, legally belonged to Illinois, creating a unique jurisdictional ambiguity that authorities in both states struggled to resolve. This loophole offered a desperate solution to the promoters’ dilemma.
The owner, Irvin Hagadorne, was approached by the promoters, who offered to purchase the land for $200,000, making an initial down payment of $50,000. Richard Wallace confirms that the deal was approved on a Tuesday, giving the organizers just days to prepare for a concert scheduled to begin that Saturday. Tellingly, the full $200,000 payment for the land was never completed after the festival concluded, reflecting the financial chaos that soon ensued.
The speed at which the festival was assembled left little to no time for adequate infrastructure development. Richard Wallace aptly remarked that it was “lucky they got had anything down there” given the monumental logistical challenges. For many who arrived, this hastily prepared site, designed for a fraction of the actual attendees, would provide their first glimpse into the raw, unpolished reality of a massive rock festival.
Arrival at the Infamous Bull Island Festival
The journey to the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival became an adventure in itself, mirroring the unpredictable nature of the event. Many attendees, like Dan Davis who was 19 at the time, made their way by hitchhiking, unprepared for the trek ahead. Davis, too young for Woodstock, was determined not to miss this event, setting off with a younger friend and minimal supplies: Vienna sausages, crackers, candy bars, and two canteens of water.
Upon nearing the festival grounds, attendees encountered an immediate nightmare of traffic and congestion. Herschell Gossett described the area as “packed,” with no room for cars anywhere. Keith Reeves recalled parking several miles away, a distance he estimated to be about three miles from the interstate to the actual site. Thousands of people were observed walking, often on top of cars, desperately trying to reach the music.
The chaos extended to the entry gates, which quickly dissolved under the pressure of the overwhelming crowd. Dan Davis and his friend, observing others bypassing the ticket booths, simply walked through stomped-down cornfields and fences. Keith Reeves noted the absence of any gate attendants by the time he arrived, allowing free entry. Richard Wallace bluntly stated, “The gate was gone,” underscoring the complete breakdown of order and ticket collection.
Primitive Conditions and the “Turd Field”
Once inside the Bull Island Festival, the rudimentary conditions immediately became apparent. The farmland was naturally swampy, and organizers had only days to bulldoze rudimentary paths and clear some ground. Basic facilities for hygiene and sanitation were almost nonexistent; there were reportedly only six porta-potties available for an estimated crowd of nearly 300,000 people. This severe lack of sanitation quickly led to unspeakable conditions.
Dan Davis vividly recalled the overflowing porta-potties, with “excrement…above the toilet,” making them unusable. As a result, two unofficial, highly unsanitary areas emerged: a marshy spot dubbed “the turd field” and a “crap ditch,” which Davis later learned was originally intended as a barrier to keep cars away from the stage. Richard Wallace recounted the shocking sight of naked bodies everywhere in the morning daylight, with people bathing and washing their hair directly in the Wabash River, creating a further health hazard.
Alice in Wonderland Avenue: The Open Drug Market
Beyond the primitive living conditions, the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival was also characterized by an overt and rampant drug culture. Dan Davis was particularly struck by the open sale of drugs, an area he later learned was informally known as “Alice in Wonderland Avenue.” Herschell Gossett described hundreds of makeshift booths, offering “all kinds of drugs,” with so much marijuana being smoked that the air constantly burned one’s eyes. Everything imaginable was available, according to Gossett, from marijuana to harder substances.
Davis painted a picture akin to a carnival, where vendors openly hawked their wares with signs and even a naked girl displaying acid prices on a pizza box lid. Keith Reeves observed people setting up blankets to display their drugs and smoking paraphernalia for sale. He even witnessed someone injecting heroin, a sight he had never encountered before. Despite the extensive drug use, Reeves noted that the crowd remained “calm and peaceful,” a curious juxtaposition to the chaotic environment.
Musical Disappointments and Unforgettable Performances
The highly anticipated musical lineup at the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival did not unfold as planned, largely due to financial disputes. Bands like Black Sabbath and Joe Cocker, initially contracted for an audience of 30,000 to 40,000, found themselves performing for an estimated 275,000 to 300,000 people. Seeing this immense crowd, they reportedly demanded an additional $30,000 each—an amount equivalent to approximately $230,000 in today’s currency—before ultimately walking off the stage when their demands were not met.
Despite these significant cancellations, several bands did perform, creating lasting memories for those who endured the festival. Dan Davis distinctly recalled the powerful blues performance of Albert King. He also remembered an all-girl band named Bertha, whose album he later purchased, and the British rock band Foghat. A particularly legendary performance was given by Ted Nugent, who, according to Davis, started late on Saturday night and was still playing when Davis woke up three hours later on Sunday morning.
Scarcity, Looting, and Close Calls
The massive, unexpected crowd quickly depleted food and water supplies, leading vendors to exploit the situation with exorbitant prices. Dan Davis recounted a hamburger costing $10 in 1972, which translates to a staggering $77 in today’s money, sparking widespread anger and frustration. This resentment culminated in scenes of looting; Davis witnessed people overturning a concession table, causing his own two hamburgers to be trampled. In an act of self-preservation, he joined the crowd, grabbing food directly from the grills to share with his friend.
Beyond the food riots, the festival was marked by a series of increasingly bizarre and dangerous incidents. Tales emerged of attendees attempting to kill and cook a cow from Bull Island’s local herd, an endeavor that was reportedly botched, leaving the animal’s carcass to lie exposed throughout the event. More tragically, one woman was run over by a pickup truck in an area she had mistakenly thought was safe for sleeping. She was then passed “over the top of everybody” on a truck to reach medical attention, eventually recovering in an Evansville hospital.
By the end of the Labor Day weekend, supplies were completely exhausted, and chaos reigned. Trucks were looted and subsequently burned, leaving behind a scene of devastation. Dan Davis observed that people leaving the festival were dirty, tired, and simply wanted to go home, a stark contrast to their initial excitement. Keith Reeves, flying over the site on Labor Day, witnessed a significantly thinned crowd but also the charred remains of catering and supply trucks, describing them as “demolished and burnt up.”
The Unforgettable Legacy of the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival
The mass exodus from the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival was as arduous as the arrival. Many attendees struggled to find rides home, often in poor health. Dan Davis, for instance, developed pneumonia, requiring his friend to leave him under an overpass while seeking help, eventually leading to his hospitalization. The press largely remembered Bull Island as a disaster—a tale of band walkouts, food looting, and unchecked chaos.
Yet, for those who experienced it firsthand, the memories are more nuanced and deeply personal. Keith Reeves reflected that his curiosity drew him to the event, believing he would “never see anything like that again.” Herschell Gossett echoed this sentiment, calling it a “once in a lifetime experience.” Richard Wallace, while admitting it “wasn’t a great concert,” proudly declared it a “great time” to say he “was there.” For many, the sheer wildness of the event makes it unforgettable, a memory that stands out from ordinary life experiences.
The enduring memory of the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival has been actively preserved by a few dedicated individuals. Ray Kessler, the late Posey County historian, played a crucial role in keeping its story alive, even organizing a 50th-anniversary commemoration. Eric Vincent manages a long-running Bull Island Facebook page, and Herschell Gossett has diligently collected signed posters, flyers, and made buttons, ensuring the event’s unique history continues to be shared. These efforts highlight that while the festival was indeed chaotic and infamous, its spirit of freedom and raw experience resonates deeply with those who witnessed it.
Unlocking the Vault: Your Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival Questions
What was the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival?
The Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival, also known as the Bull Island Festival, was a large and chaotic rock music festival held in the Midwest during Labor Day weekend of 1972.
Where did the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival take place?
It took place on Bull Island, a remote piece of farmland along the Wabash River that legally belonged to Illinois, near the Indiana border.
Why is the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival described as ‘infamous’?
It’s infamous for its massive overcrowding, severe lack of sanitation, primitive conditions, logistical failures, and financial disputes that led to some major bands walking out.
What were the conditions like for people attending the festival?
Attendees faced extremely primitive conditions, including overflowing and unusable toilets, muddy grounds, food and water shortages, and an open drug market due to the overwhelming crowd and lack of planning.
