Bethel -- June Gelish never wanted much to do with Woodstock. Her idea of entertainment was the Concord Hotel, a place with a pool, a bar and a card room, where she spent her summers. But in 1989, the site of the original Woodstock concert fell into her hands. And from then on, her life was forever changed. She was catered to and flattered annually by those seeking a connection to the counterculture. She was despised as well, reviled by others for her efforts to make money from the ghosts of peace and love.

Gelish, 67, died Tuesday from cancer. And the site that has been a controversy for the past 28 years remains virtually unchanged -- still grassy and empty, still the center of controversy.

Sometimes, Gelish supported the pilgrims that come to her property every August. Gelish's land was where the Woodstock stage stood, the epicenter of the counterculture in August 1969 when at least 400,000 people gathered for three days of peace and music.

Some years, thousands of pilgrims came to the site and partied for days. Gelish tried to make money from them those years. Other years, access was blocked by police at Gelish's request and no one came. One year, she contracted for chicken manure to be spread over the field to keep anyone from camping.

"She was naive over the whole aura of Woodstock. It wasn't her gig." said Wayne Saward, who has known Gelish since the mid-1980's when he cast the Woodstock monument that is still at the site.

In the wake of her death, locals wonder what this means for Sullivan County's attempt to buy or condemn the site as a performance park.

Gelish's death should have little bearing on those talks, lawyers familiar with the case said. Gelish's cousin, Stephen Davis, who was also Gelish's lawyer, would not say if she had plans to bequeath the site to anyone.

Gelish had strained relations with Sullivan County officials, and County Attorney Ira Cohen said there had been no recent negotiations between the two parties.

Some blamed Gelish's greed on the failure of the many events that were planned for the site that failed to come about. Gelish said people's feelings were misdirected.

"People up there are so angry at me," she said in a 1994 interview. "They hear my name and they turn blue. But I don't think they're angry at me. They had this land in the palm of their hand and never did anything with it. They're angry that some smart aleck from Brooklyn did it instead."

Louis Nicky, Gelish's companion in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, bought the 37.5 acres of land in 1981 from the estate of Max Yasgur, the farmer who had welcomed the concert promoters in 1969. Gelish became the land's owner of record after Nicky died in 1989, a few days before the festival's 20th anniversary.

Nicky, owner of a chain of auto glass shops in Brooklyn, wanted a vacation house. And so Gelish, often seen with her long black hair held back by a rhinestone-studded tiara and her eyes hidden by rose-tinted sunglasses, was dragged along for the ride.

When the site was first purchased, only a few people gathered there to celebrate the anniversary. Saward was on of them. In 1985, Nicky commissioned Saward to install a concrete-and-metal monument at the corner of the site. Gelish died 12 years to the day after that monument was installed, Saward said.

It was not until 1989, and the first of several planned celebrations fell through, that people started flocking to the site in August. From that point on, it became a yearly ritual. And nothing--police, trespassing tickets, blockades or chicken feces -- would stop them from coming to Bethel.

Gelish grew up in working-class Brooklyn. Her father, who ran a small hat-making factory, died when she was 10, and she was raised by her mother. In 1948, at 19, she married John Gelish and had two sons by him. She met Nicky in 1963, after splitting with Gelish. They were together until his death but never married, a subject she declined to talk about.

When Nicky died, he left no will. A woman named Helen Nicketopoulos filed a suit in Brooklyn surrogate Court against Gelish. In the 1940's, Necketopoulos had been briefly married to Nicky (who shortened his name from Necketopoulos since the marriage), and claimed he never divorced her. She wanted her "widow's share" of his estate. The suit is still pending.

Last summer, persuaded by State Police, Gelish had a change of heart and signed an order requesting all trespassers be kept off. Police blocked all roads and would only allow walk-ins to stay on the site during the day. Campfires and camping were banned.

This year showed signs of being different. The Town of Bethel agreed to put up a privately funded sign that called the town the home of the Woodstock site. And then there is continued property speculation going on around the site.

This year seemed to be filled with promise for Woodstock. But Gelish will not be around to see what happens.

"I'm going to miss seeing June sitting on the monument with her red outfit," said Abigail Storm of the Woodstock Nation Foundation, a group dedicated to getting free access to the site. "I really looked forward to June having a happy ending concerning the property."