Serve People First or Watch Everything Burn

Woodstock '99. Rome, New York. A former air force base. Concrete runways stretched like scars across the barren ground. No shade. No grass. Just heat and dust waiting to happen.

Three days later, 200,000 people pressed against chain-link fences, desperate for relief. The music pounded from the stage. Limp Bizkit screaming "Break Stuff" while actual stuff broke around them.

The porta-potties overflowed by Saturday morning, raw sewage pooling in the heat. People waded through ankle-deep mud mixed with urine and worse. The stench hung like a toxic cloud. Women formed protective circles just to use the facilities safely.

Water vendors jacked prices higher each hour. Four dollars, then six, then eight for a single bottle while dehydration victims collapsed in medical tents.