Jim, re: '68 Dem convention in Chicago
re: John, so where is your '68 democratic convention story? Did Dalys men crack you over the head or something?
I posted part of it to Amy, but I'll expand.
I was an 18 year old kid, mostly apolitical, but certainly against the Vietnam war, in a vague sort of way that an 18 year old cares about anything except a good party and a pretty girl. So all this interesting riot stuff is happening in my city, and of course me and a couple of buddies decide to see what's up (more curious than fearful, a good thing, at any age).
So we drive downtown and make our way to the front line of the protestors on Michigan Ave, in front of the Hilton, just at the precise moment that all hell is about to break loose. I'm standing there in a line of protestors, looking directly at a line of National Guard troops, bayonets fixed, staring us down, and 1000's of Chicago cops behind them. Mind you this is really the front lawn of Chicago, the most prestigious place in the city, the identity of the city. Certainly curious to my 18 year old mind, it's looking very much like a war zone. Very cool and NOT boring.
After a few minutes, the National Guard starts to back up and seems to almost disappear, as the Chicago police move slowly forward. Very coordinated. I say to my buddies let's get the hell out of here, something is about to happen. They are caught up in how cool the moment is, and stay; I back off to the sidewalk. Suddenly the Chicago cops charge, banging heads with their night sticks at every chance, relentless, left and right just banging away. That was what was caught on the TV coverage.
So the crowd, 1000's deep, is now on the run, people getting trampled. This isn't open ground, it's tall building canyons; no place to go except down other city side streets. The first relief off Michigan Ave, where the cops are charging, is Balbo Street. I take my running left there, and (shit!) a bus loaded with cops pulls up at the end of the block (city canyon, no escape), charging out swinging night sticks, a perfectly coordinated maneuver. Everybody is trapped front and back. I'll never forget the sight of this girl, couldn't have been more than 15, lying on the ground, being beaten on the head by two cops with night sticks.
I managed to get through, one of my buddies got his head cracked and the other got arrested for tipping a police car (amazing how political people can get in a hurry when they are being attacked). The folks that got it the worst were the reporters, or anyone carrying a camera. You had a camera, you were dead meat, they beat the hell out of you and your camera. They didn't want a lot of pictures.
And that was really the most gentle night, though nobody knew it. Most of the violence happened on the quieter nights on the side streets, out of the range of TV cameras. But the TV cameras were rolling on Michigan Ave, so people noticed that evening.
Was it a big deal? Compared to the civilians in Iraq, it was a day at the beach. "Shock" it was, "awe" it wasn't.
What's the moral of the story?
You figure it out, I haven't. One thing for sure is that you are wrong... I'm not a "Daly Democrat".
John
PS I haven't told that story in 30 years. Somehow, it seems like it's has more relevance now than it has for a long, long time. I'm wondering how the Rep convention in New York will turn out. |
