Have you ever wondered what happens when a rock concert explodes beyond all expectations, morphing from a planned event into an unforgettable, chaotic spectacle of counter-culture history? The video above offers a compelling glimpse into the legendary 1972 Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival, an event widely known as Bull Island, which etched itself into Midwest folklore. What began as a bold vision from promoters Bob Alexander and Tom Duncan quickly spiraled into one of the wildest and most infamous gatherings of its kind, challenging local authorities and leaving an indelible mark on everyone who experienced it.
The Genesis of a Midwest Rock Festival: From Vision to Venue Scramble
In the early 1970s, rock music wasn’t just a genre; it was a cultural force. Promoters Bob Alexander and Tom Duncan, fresh off their July 2nd Bossy Field Freedom Fest in Evansville, Indiana—a hit featuring big names like Tina Turner, Edgar Winter, and Dr. John—recognized the immense appetite for large-scale musical events. However, the Bossy Field event also introduced a “new kind of crowd” to Evansville: the hippies. This led to “a lot of problems,” as noted by Richard Wallace, making the local authorities wary of any future endeavors.
A Quest for the Perfect (and Available) Location
Undaunted, Alexander and Duncan decided to go even bigger for Labor Day weekend, aiming for a second festival. Mayor Russell Lloyd of Evansville famously declared, “there ain’t no way you guys are gonna do anything in Evansville or Vanderburgh County again.” This strong local opposition set the stage for a frantic search for a suitable venue, a narrative echoed by many large festivals of the era facing community backlash.
Initially, the promoters had their sights set on Chandler Raceway in Chandler, Indiana, expecting a crowd of around 50,000 people. This number, while substantial, was a far cry from what the event ultimately drew. With major acts like Black Sabbath and Joe Cocker lined up, promotion efforts intensified, including a crucial full-page advertisement in Rolling Stone Magazine. This national exposure, however, brought unforeseen consequences.
The Radio’s Role in a Tidal Wave of Attendees
The Rolling Stone ad quickly caught the attention of WLS radio in Chicago. Keith Reeves recounted how WLS “broadcast it… like every 30 minutes, 15 minutes, whatever, for quite a while.” This relentless promotion acted as a powerful magnet, drawing people not just from Indiana, but “from across the country” towards the Midwest. The influx of attendees drastically exceeded initial projections, with Dan Davis observing that “they had way more people than they had expected.”
Local anxieties escalated rapidly. “Every county in southwestern Indiana” filed injunctions, as Dan Davis confirmed, attempting to halt the festival. Posey County, Gibson County, and Vanderburgh County were all against hosting such a large-scale event. With thousands of pre-sold tickets and time running out, the promoters faced an existential crisis for their Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival.
Bull Island: A Jurisdictional Loophole
In a desperate, last-minute move, a solution emerged: Bull Island. This unique piece of land, situated on the Indiana side of the Wabash River but legally belonging to Illinois, presented a jurisdictional puzzle. As Dan Davis explained, “authorities on both states weren’t sure how to handle it. They didn’t know who had jurisdiction.” This ambiguity provided a crucial window of opportunity.
The promoters quickly approached Urban Hagedorn, the owner of Bull Island. They agreed to purchase the land for $200,000, putting down a $50,000 payment. Remarkably, this agreement was finalized on a Tuesday, with the concert scheduled to begin that Saturday. The scramble to prepare the site for hundreds of thousands of people in just a few days was a logistical nightmare, as Richard Wallace aptly put it, “With the logistics they had to do, they were lucky they had anything down there.”
The Arrival: A Journey to Chaos
For many young attendees, the journey to Bull Island was an adventure in itself, often their first exposure to a massive rock festival. Dan Davis, just 19 at the time, was “determined that I was gonna go to it,” having missed Woodstock. Keith Reeves, too, was driven by “curiosity” about an event “that had never happened in our area.”
Navigating the Human Tide
Getting to Bull Island proved to be a formidable challenge. Attendees faced extreme congestion, with cars parked for miles along the interstate. Herschell Gossett described it as “full. There was no room nowhere for no cars. It’s packed.” Dan Davis estimated walking “five to 10 miles to get in there,” a sentiment echoed by Keith Reeves who recalled walking “quite a ways,” estimating it around three miles from the interstate to the site. The sheer volume of people meant roads were impassable, creating a continuous line of festival-goers moving towards the grounds.
Upon reaching the “ticket booth,” another layer of chaos unfolded. Instead of orderly lines, people were simply walking through “stomped down” cornfields and fences to enter without paying. As Keith Reeves noted, “when we got to the gate, it was kind of chaos. There wasn’t anyone there… and we just walked in.” Richard Wallace succinctly stated, “The gate was gone. There was no gate there.” This mass, free entry contributed significantly to the skyrocketing attendance numbers that far outstripped any financial planning.
Life on Bull Island: Rough Conditions and Counter-Culture Immersion
The conditions on Bull Island were, by all accounts, primitive and challenging. The farmland, hastily bulldozed, was swampy and ill-equipped for the massive crowd. Essential facilities were virtually nonexistent.
The Facility Fiasco
Dan Davis vividly recalled the dire sanitation situation: “They have six porta-lets for everybody there.” Given an estimated crowd of 275,000 to 300,000 people, this meant approximately 45,000-50,000 people per porta-let, an utterly insufficient provision. Unsurprisingly, these facilities were quickly overwhelmed, leading attendees to find alternatives like a “marshy area they called the turd field” and “the crap ditch.” This lack of basic infrastructure quickly contributed to unsanitary and uncomfortable conditions, further emphasizing the raw, untamed nature of the event. The sight of “naked bodies everywhere” in the morning, with people using the river for bathing due to no other options, underscored the primitive environment.
An Open-Air Marketplace of Vice
Beyond the logistical challenges, the 1972 Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival became notorious for its open drug culture. Dan Davis was “shocked” by the prevalence of drug sales, likening a specific area, nicknamed “Alice in Wonderland Avenue,” to “a carnival where they’re selling corndogs.” Herschell Gossett remembered “hundreds of booths set up and just all kinds of drugs,” noting “so much pot being smoked that your eyes burn all the time from all the smoke.” From “pot” to “acid” (evidenced by a naked girl with a pizza top displaying acid prices), the drug trade was overt and widespread. Keith Reeves even witnessed someone “shooting up heroin,” an unsettling sight for many attendees unaccustomed to such open use.
The Music and the Monetary Mayhem
Despite the immense draw of a stellar lineup, the music experience at Bull Island was deeply affected by the unprecedented crowd size and the promoters’ financial woes.
High Stakes, Higher Demands
The initial contracts for the bands were based on an expected attendance of 30,000 to 40,000 people. When acts like Black Sabbath and Joe Cocker arrived on Saturday and saw an estimated “275,000 people there,” they quickly demanded more. Richard Wallace noted, “they thought, well, we deserve more money.” Specifically, Black Sabbath and Joe Cocker each demanded an additional $30,000, ultimately walking off when their demands were not met. This financial dispute was a major blow to the festival’s integrity, leaving many attendees disappointed.
The Acts That Played On
Despite the cancellations, some bands honored their commitments or performed as planned, creating memorable moments amidst the chaos. Dan Davis fondly remembered seeing:
- Albert King: An “old black blues player” whose performance left a strong impression.
- Bertha: An “all-girl band” that was “pretty good,” prompting Davis to buy their album later.
- Foghat: Another notable act that played on Saturday.
- Ted Nugent: His marathon performance began Saturday night and extended into Sunday morning, with Davis recalling falling asleep for three hours and waking to Nugent “still playing.”
These performances, delivered under such trying circumstances, became a testament to the resilience of both musicians and fans.
Survival on Bull Island: Looting, Injuries, and Extreme Prices
The sheer scale of the festival, coupled with its disorganization, quickly led to severe shortages of basic necessities. This scarcity, in turn, fueled exploitation and outright lawlessness.
The Price of Sustenance
Food and water became incredibly scarce, and vendors capitalized on the desperate situation. Dan Davis recounted waiting in a concession line where “everybody was complaining because they wanted $10 a hamburger.” To put this into perspective, he noted that “$10 a hamburger, which in today’s money that’s $77.” This exorbitant pricing inevitably led to frustration and eventually, to looting. Dan Davis described a scene where people shouted, “F this place, let’s take it!” The concession table was overturned, and he himself joined the rush, grabbing “a couple hamburgers off the off the grills” to feed himself and his friend. This spontaneous act of mass desperation highlights the breakdown of order and the raw struggle for survival.
Incidents of Chaos and Injury
The lack of control and proper infrastructure contributed to several alarming incidents. Stories emerged of attendees attempting to butcher and cook cattle on the island, a botched attempt that left a “cow… laying there sliced up dead the rest of the festival.” More tragically, an attendee “got run over by a… pickup truck” while sleeping in what she thought was an open area. The difficulty in navigating the dense crowds for emergency services meant she was “passed her over the top of everybody” to reach a vehicle for transport to Evansville, where thankfully, she “survived it okay.” By the end of the weekend, reports circulated of “trucks were looted and burned,” underscoring the complete breakdown of authority and the descent into anarchy.
The Lingering Legacy of the 1972 Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival
As Labor Day arrived, the exhausted and often disillusioned crowd began to disperse. “People weren’t as happy leaving as they were when they came in,” Dan Davis observed, with everyone “dirty, tired” and simply wanting “to go home.” Keith Reeves, flying over the site on Labor Day, recalled “the crowd had really thinned out” but “the interstate still being full” with departing vehicles.
Despite the chaos, the hardships, and the unfulfilled promises, the Bull Island Festival holds a complex and enduring place in the memories of its attendees. Keith Reeves felt his “curiosity” was satisfied, believing he would “never see anything like that again.” Herschell Gossett echoed this, calling it “a once in a lifetime experience.” Richard Wallace, while acknowledging it “wasn’t a great concert,” proudly stated, “it was a great time to be able to say that I was there. That meant a lot to me.” For many, the sheer wildness of the event, its scale, and its unpredictable nature made it an unforgettable chapter in their lives.
Guardians of Memory
The story of the 1972 Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival might have faded into obscurity were it not for dedicated individuals. Dan Davis highlighted three key figures: Ray Kessler, the late Posey County historian, who not only kept the memory alive but organized a 50th-anniversary celebration; Eric Vinson, who tirelessly runs the Bull Island Facebook page; and Herschel Gossett, who collects and preserves posters, flyers, and buttons, ensuring the legend lives on. These efforts are crucial in documenting such pivotal, albeit chaotic, moments in American cultural history.
From the Vault: Your Questions on the ’72 Soda Pop Festival
What was the 1972 Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival?
It was a legendary rock music festival held in 1972, also known as Bull Island, that became famous for its unexpected size and chaotic nature. It is remembered as a significant counter-culture event in Midwest history.
Where did the Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival take place?
The festival took place on a unique piece of land called Bull Island, located on the Indiana side of the Wabash River. This location was chosen last-minute due to its confusing legal jurisdiction between Indiana and Illinois.
Why is the 1972 Erie Canal Soda Pop Festival considered “infamous”?
It’s considered infamous because the crowd vastly exceeded expectations, leading to extreme disorganization, a severe lack of facilities, band walk-offs due to pay disputes, and widespread chaotic conditions. It became a symbol of a wild and untamed gathering.
How many people attended the festival?
While promoters initially expected around 50,000 people, the festival ultimately drew an estimated 275,000 to 300,000 attendees. This massive influx of people contributed significantly to the chaotic conditions.
