May 4th 1970 Remembered

May 4th 1970. At the time we thought that no one would ever forget that date. Kind of like November 11th or December 7th. I wonder how long until September 11th will be just another date that the old folks remember. Today those under thirty can't remember what happened then. You can tell because at the G-20 Summit the kids were making the same mistake that we made. I was afraid for them. I remembered what happened when we found out that John Wayne was a lie. We had been told all our lives that if you followed your beliefs than you would be safe. It didn't matter if you only had a six shooter that shot a gazillion bullets (oops) and there were a million angry bandits or Indians coming for you, you would be safe. It isn't true. But the hubris of youth will still believe. So even if the National Guard is there with real guns and bullets, we will be okay, because we are doing what is right. We forget that history is programmed by the victors.

There have been books written and trials held trying to assign blame. But the problem was more than the people involved it was the times and the culture. There is enough guilt to go around for every one. I am older and perhaps wiser. I now believe that the responsibility for May 4th must lie with the officials and officers who were not prepared and did not do their jobs. Before you jump to conclusions, I also understand that there was no way that they could have been prepared. It had to happen somewhere in the "fly over" states. I am ashamed to say that when they shot at students in Berkley, people said "well those radicals at Berkley, what do you expect." When they shot the black students at Jackson State, people just ignored it. It had to happen to middle class white kids, for our country to sit up and realize that campus demonstrations needed to be handled differently. Today, because every person seems to have a cell phone with a camera on their person, everyone realizes that they will be held accountable for their every mistake. Kent State helped prepare them.

Was there a great conspiracy with lots of outside agitators? Sort of. There was weather, hormones, fatigue, innocence, culture and lack of fore thought. What do I mean by weather. I remember that it was the first decent weekend all spring. Up to that weekend, it had been a rainy, chilly spring, but now there was sunshine and the spring flowers were amazing. Kent had a history of spring shenanigans - streakers and mud fights. It was most assuredly spring and there were plenty of hormones running rampant. The girls were wearing mini skirts, but just because you wanted to be in style, didn't mean that you would allow the guys to "take advantage" of you. So the guys were full of frustration on at least a subliminal level.

My memory is fuzzy, but it seems to me that the first problems started downtown with the trashing and burning of some businesses on Water Street. This was not initiated by students but by members of a motorcycle gang that came to Kent to party in the bars on Water Street, where the kids went to drink and dance. Some students felt that those businesses had taken advantage of them. Certainly many of the "townies" resented and still resent people associated with the college. But college kids who had never experienced the energy associated with the kind of violence initiated by the motorcycle guys, felt it, and liked it. Certainly it was exciting and certainly they had no idea about how to handle that kind of energy or how easy it could get out of control.

On Saturday night, we went to the Film Festival and watched all kinds of interesting independent films. In the middle there was an announcement telling us not to leave because there was a fire at the R. O. T. C. Building - a Quonset hut that I think had been slated for replacement. If it hadn't been, it should have been. We were told that when the films were over we were to leave and go directly home. Not wanting to get into trouble, or the way of firemen we did so. We could see the flames in the night. But it had been a long day and we were tired. A fire didn't sound like a good time. I am to this day appalled that students attacked firemen and cut hoses. Those idiots, what if their dorm had caught on fire later or if those hoses and men had been needed some other place? Today those students are in their sixties and I doubt that it was their proudest moment.

Our wonderful governor sent the already fatigued National Guard to Kent State and imposed a curfew, to protect the town and the university. He certainly wasn't going to let a bunch of hippie students intimidate him. It was really weird to have helicopters flying overhead at night. On Sunday we went to see the soldiers protecting the burned out building. I particularly wanted to go to see the lilacs on what was called lilac walk. If I remember right, we brought along our cats on leashes. We talked a bit with the National Guard, who were probably not supposed to talk to us, but they were just people too.

Our government was sending our friends, and schoolmates, to fight in Viet Nam and Cambodia. They were not telling the truth about it. We had been taught in Sunday School that those were our brothers. We believed it, even though generations of their culture, and our culture makes that in some senses untrue. I had demonstrated against the war by standing with other students outside the Student Union. It was a bad thing our country was doing, and I was opposed to it, so it seemed like the least I could do was stand in a line with other students as a witness. It didn't make me a fire-brand, it just showed that I thought we were wrong. It was pretty ineffective, but better than nothing.

On May 4th I went to class. It was Monday, that was where I was supposed to be. My professors were appalled by having soldiers on campus. I remember that this was especially hard on a professor who had been in Germany during World War II. He felt like he was back in time, and he didn't like it. My classes were dismissed early because there was no way that the teachers could teach I the tumult. Students were massing on the commons for a demonstration. I went, because I was still opposed to the War in Viet Nam. Our government had to pay attention.

There were people shouting, encouraging people to chant about the war. As time passed, I realized that I was uncomfortable with the energy level in the crowd. People were getting wound up, and I didn't want to be wound up to the level that was coming. I imagine that this is how a mob behaves and imagine that it is hard not to get swept up. I still wanted to see what was going on, so I went to the top of the Architecture Building. It had windows all around and you could see without being in a place that would probably be tear gassed. It was what we expected and what had happened to other demonstrators across the country. I saw the National Guard marching and turn to surround the students. That was what I thought, so I rushed to the other side of the building to look for more Guardsmen. I assumed that we were all going to be arrested and bussed to Ravenna, the county seat where the court system would have to deal with us. Then I heard the shots. I was stunned. I went back to where the National Guard had turned and saw a student on the ground, bleeding.

In my shock, I decided that the best thing I could do was go home. I really didn't want to be there any more. In their wisdom the campus bus system had been shut down so I was stuck until I ran into a friend with a car. I remember Dorothy Fuldheim on the news, crying about what we had done to our children. That sympathy lasted only one day. The powers that be quickly regained control of the media. The school was shut down. Students were sent finals to return in the mail and the school was closed until next quarter. It was grim. They didn't send therapists in to help us understand what had happened. Perhaps that is better, since sometimes I think therapists just help people to accept the party line.

Who's fault was it that students were shot at Kent State: The president who was lying to us; The governor who was spewing inflammatory rhetoric, rather than trying to calm things; The school president, who it is rumored was drinking in the Brown Derby - and really who could blame him for drinking as his world was spun out of his control; The Officers of the National Guard, who did not take care of their soldiers; The National Guardsmen, who were tired from dealing with a trucking strike in Akron the week before, many of whom were just trying to avoid service in Viet Nam anyhow? Who couldn't hear and were frightened and upset by the number of students who were chanting at them; The students who were inexperienced with the kind of energy associated with a mob mentality, who were throwing rocks or worse at armed men; The girls in their short skirts; the list can go on and on. The answer is all of us.

It is shameful that we shot our children. But it had to happen to stop the riots that were going on at campuses across the country. Wiser heads might have sent in the State Highway Patrol, which had better training and would politely, but firmly tell the students "I am sorry but you need to disperse now, or to go home, sir or ma'am." There were many available. They were adults and the students had been trained for years to obey the Highway Patrol or they would get a ticket and might lose their drivers license. It is the nature of politicians to believe that they can control things and the nature of youth to rebel. The following year, a new University President, supplied buses to take students to Washington D.C. to demonstrate against the war. Much cheaper than losing control of the campus.

Because of the shootings at Kent State, Campus unrest was handled differently. Eventually we left Viet Nam. There are still people forty years later to whom I cannot talk about Kent State. They cannot possibly see that the students did anything right. I think there is so much blame to share. I think that students are at college to learn how to be grown up, not to be shot. Shame on all of us, student and non-student alike. Remember May 4th so it doesn't happen again.