Out of all the concerts I saw in my youth this was by far the best. It rained in the middle of the show and I remember Weir saying, "We'll keep playing until one of us gets welded to the stage" Once the rain came in buckets in the August heat everybody got real relaxed and happy. People were sliding down the mud slopped lawn. It was wild! I was one of the first to park in a level grass field so I had to push almost everyone out before I could go. Covered head to toe in mud I finally looked around I saw there were only three cars left, including mine, so I quickly jumped in my car with my girl and had the last two remaining push me out. My last look in the rear view mirror saw the two remaining Dead Heads turn and look at each other motionless. What an afternoon! I remember more of that concert than all the scores I saw back then put together.
What I remember is this strange bearded guy who pulled out a doobie as big as a table leg. It was rolled with tissue paper and had about a quarter lb. of bud. He said he was a grower. He passed it away after smoking for a few minutes, the end flamed for a while, then settled down to a half dollar sized cherry. Watching the surprise at the size as it passed along the crowd was hilarious, but nobody Bogarted that number, too big and too cool to do anything but pass it along.
Of course the hit of the evening was the thunderstorm that hit just before the break. the call and response between the thunder and the drums, for those with acid in their systems must have been a bit of a tweak.