It’s Reggae Week again (August 2nd to 4th at County Line Ranch), which used to be like our national holiday around here, the annual celebration when hippies, growers, and all the rest of us back-to-the-landers poured in from the hills, reconnecting with our friends and neighbors for a day of sun and music with the big stars of reggae music.
The performers liked to come to Southern Humboldt, the weed capital of the world, as marijuana was their religion as well as ours, and lots of money flooded into community organizations and rural schools, running their annual fundraising food and drink booths, artisans selling their homemade creations, and profits for the Mateel Community Center (MCC) to fund their/our entertainment programs, other events, and to rebuild after the original building burned up in an arson fire in the 1980’s. (It was also an opportunity for local bands to play, sometimes at nine in the morning.)
In the early years we just packed a few joints and other goodies, drove down to the site near the county line, and randomly parked along both sides of Highway 101. We walked half a mile or so to the entrance booth, bought our tickets for ten bucks (this week three-day tickets are $299 in advance and $349 at the gate), and followed the throng of happy hippies walking into the dusty and exciting bowl at Frenches Camp, joining thousands of other revelers for a day of music, dancing, and working in the booths with other volunteers, including the hundreds necessary to put on the show. (Later, the casual and unorganized parking along the highway was prohibited, and shuttle buses were run to the site from Garberville, Redway, Benbow, and the campgrounds.)
After some years the event expanded to two days, then three, and it got so huge and popular that some of those working on the event for the Mateel split off and started a production company to run it for profit, with a fat cut for the Mateel.
Then came the Reggae Wars in 2006 and 2007 when Peoples Productions and the MCC battled in court for ownership of the event after heated contract negotiations ended in stalemate, and divided the community: Were you with Peoples or the Mateel? (There were rumors of outlaw selling of wristbands by insiders, and pocketing thousands, that kind of graft probably inevitable, as there was so much cash floating around.)
After many months of drama, everyone wanted to stop fighting and a settlement was reached: Peoples took over the event and started an alternate festival just down the river from the original site, calling it “Reggae Rising.” The Mateel kept the name “Reggae On The River” and received a cash payment, while the Southern Humboldt community, the vast majority supporting the Mateel, was shocked that a private company could take over our non-profit’s main fund-raising event.
There has never been a public reckoning about what really went down with that community conflict, it was such a bitter and devisive experience that few wanted to delve into it deeper. Eventually the polarizing memories faded, people moved on and mostly healed friendships and families, and a fragile peace returned. (Seventeen years later, this rundown of a moment in time, lacking many details, may still be upsetting to some, as it had been such an emotional issue.)
The Mateel eventually restarted the festival when Reggae Rising fizzled out, put it on at Benbow once or twice, farmed it out to “High Times,” and when that didn’t work cancelled it for several years, and now it’s back!
Is putting on Reggae crucial for the Mateel Community Center’s survival? Is Reggae this year risking the Mateel’s survival? Will it be a joyous and profitable event?
Over the years Reggae became more for out-of-towners than the community event it started out as, and was for its first thirty years, and still takes a lot of local volunteers to put it on. I hope it works out and is a smashing success, in this era when music festivals are struggling to be profitable, and even to keep existing.
(Backstage note: I first became aware of the glory of backstage when at one concert I went up to Jerry S, told him I wanted to give some weed to the bands and he put a special wrist band on me, then showed me into the hallowed area. Whoopie, was I finally an “insider?”)
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