I Remember, 1968
A small skirmish in a bigger war.41 total reviews
Comment from psalmist
I was 15 in 1968. While I was not an active demonstrator, my sympathies were with the anti-war protestors, still are. I have been reading about the Old Testament prophets, and how their overwhelming passion for social injustice. They were persecuted then, prophets are still unpopular today.
I really liked these words: "We drove home, viciously arguing, but keeping it all in our heads. The silence was the loudest I'd ever heard." I could feel the anger and lack of understanding. Such poignant words for how we too often "communicate" with each other.
Thanks for the memories. Linda
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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I was 15 in 1968. While I was not an active demonstrator, my sympathies were with the anti-war protestors, still are. I have been reading about the Old Testament prophets, and how their overwhelming passion for social injustice. They were persecuted then, prophets are still unpopular today.
I really liked these words: "We drove home, viciously arguing, but keeping it all in our heads. The silence was the loudest I'd ever heard." I could feel the anger and lack of understanding. Such poignant words for how we too often "communicate" with each other.
Thanks for the memories. Linda
Comment Written 04-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Thank you, Linda. I don't know about you, but I'm sure I'd be a much different person today if I hadn't experienced the 60's.
Thank you for the thoughtful review. Peace, Lee
Comment from Cooper Watt
Fascinating story, Lee. I sometimes wish I were older so to have memories of the 60's. Instead, I grew up in the 80's....the only thing I felt like protesting were the dumb-as-shit haircuts, Culture Club, my mom's fascination with microwave cooking, and the beginnings of anti-smoking by-laws.
Be good, brother.
Coop.
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Fascinating story, Lee. I sometimes wish I were older so to have memories of the 60's. Instead, I grew up in the 80's....the only thing I felt like protesting were the dumb-as-shit haircuts, Culture Club, my mom's fascination with microwave cooking, and the beginnings of anti-smoking by-laws.
Be good, brother.
Coop.
Comment Written 04-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Thanks, Coop. For all the turmoil of the '60s, I'm glad I was there. I suspect I'd be a much different person had I missed that decade. Thanks again, brother. Peace, Lee
Comment from LancsLass
Hello, Lee.
An honest writer, I believe, cannot help but reveal himself through his fiction. I have read enough of your fiction to think that I know who you are, recognize you as a kindred spirit, even though I don't actually know you from Adam.
This essay confirms everything I believe to be true, and explains why I feel drawn to you in friendship. Even I think that's a bit weird :) but it is how it is. I suspect it is how it is for a lot of people here. You speak so eloquently for us and about us.
Even in an essay, you employ storytelling to get to the heart of a question, without even posing a question. You brought to life a time and place I only knew from television, and several thousand miles away.
I remember 1968. Nightly, the news was full of grotesque images of American national figures being shot or protestors being herded and hurt, or soldiers living and dying in unbelievable conditions--half of them with no real idea why, or local Vietnamese doing the same, although they, at least, had the clarity of vision to know they were defending their country.
From four thousand miles away it all looked very angry and violent and not a place I had any interest in ever setting foot. I was engulfed in Britain's swinging sixties, planning a July wedding and very glad I was no part of it.
If anyone had told me that at the end of the following decade I would move to America and spend the next thirty years of my life there, acquiring an American son-in-law and American grandchildren, or that I would become an American myself,I would not have believed them. Such is life.
Thanks for taking me back in a superbly written and presented piece. And showing how world events and politics may feel like they are remote but actually they effect every one of us in personal ways. The image of that 'used to be pitching arm' will stay with me.
Great job! Anna
reply by the author on 05-Jun-2012
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Hello, Lee.
An honest writer, I believe, cannot help but reveal himself through his fiction. I have read enough of your fiction to think that I know who you are, recognize you as a kindred spirit, even though I don't actually know you from Adam.
This essay confirms everything I believe to be true, and explains why I feel drawn to you in friendship. Even I think that's a bit weird :) but it is how it is. I suspect it is how it is for a lot of people here. You speak so eloquently for us and about us.
Even in an essay, you employ storytelling to get to the heart of a question, without even posing a question. You brought to life a time and place I only knew from television, and several thousand miles away.
I remember 1968. Nightly, the news was full of grotesque images of American national figures being shot or protestors being herded and hurt, or soldiers living and dying in unbelievable conditions--half of them with no real idea why, or local Vietnamese doing the same, although they, at least, had the clarity of vision to know they were defending their country.
From four thousand miles away it all looked very angry and violent and not a place I had any interest in ever setting foot. I was engulfed in Britain's swinging sixties, planning a July wedding and very glad I was no part of it.
If anyone had told me that at the end of the following decade I would move to America and spend the next thirty years of my life there, acquiring an American son-in-law and American grandchildren, or that I would become an American myself,I would not have believed them. Such is life.
Thanks for taking me back in a superbly written and presented piece. And showing how world events and politics may feel like they are remote but actually they effect every one of us in personal ways. The image of that 'used to be pitching arm' will stay with me.
Great job! Anna
Comment Written 04-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 05-Jun-2012
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Oh, Anna, what a terrific review! I don't think it's at weird that we have found a connection. I often wondered what the chaos of the American 60s looked like to the rest of the so-called civilized world--especially the British, our first cousins. This is a special review from a special friend. Thank you so much, Anna. Peace, Lee
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Not that I didnā??t grow to love Wyoming. Itā??s a magical place, but not for the faint hearted. Itā??s different from UK in every way imaginable. I love both places :)
It is strange, though, having half your family on one continent and half on another. I don't recommend it.
Comment from CALLAHANMR
Hi Lee:)
I too remember 1968, I was in sympathy with those who opposed the Viet Nam war, but in general I was on the other side of the fence from direct protesters. I had three small children who made me stay as far from danger as possible.
Still the terrible events of 1968 touched me. I lived in a roit ares of Kansas City, Missouri as bullets flew through our neighborhood and Molotov cocktails were thrown around our home. I remember the young policeman who lived next door with a new and terrified wife. He brought me an M-1 rifle to protect our homes if looters came.I'm glad none came, but fear pervaded the air.I was riding on a city bus, safer than my cay, I thought, when tee windows were shot out with real bullets and a Molotov cocktail bounced off the windshield.
The closest I came to a demonstration came when Richard Nixon came to town to speak and te girls ripped off and burned their bras as the crowd chanted, "We don't want
your f**king war!"
Yes, I remember 1968 and I hope I never see another like it. Sadly our police seemed once more to be intent on shooting first and asking questions later. we have two police brutality cases in Houston at the present time.
Wonderful writing, Lee.
Roger
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Hi Lee:)
I too remember 1968, I was in sympathy with those who opposed the Viet Nam war, but in general I was on the other side of the fence from direct protesters. I had three small children who made me stay as far from danger as possible.
Still the terrible events of 1968 touched me. I lived in a roit ares of Kansas City, Missouri as bullets flew through our neighborhood and Molotov cocktails were thrown around our home. I remember the young policeman who lived next door with a new and terrified wife. He brought me an M-1 rifle to protect our homes if looters came.I'm glad none came, but fear pervaded the air.I was riding on a city bus, safer than my cay, I thought, when tee windows were shot out with real bullets and a Molotov cocktail bounced off the windshield.
The closest I came to a demonstration came when Richard Nixon came to town to speak and te girls ripped off and burned their bras as the crowd chanted, "We don't want
your f**king war!"
Yes, I remember 1968 and I hope I never see another like it. Sadly our police seemed once more to be intent on shooting first and asking questions later. we have two police brutality cases in Houston at the present time.
Wonderful writing, Lee.
Roger
Comment Written 04-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Thank you, Roger. That bloody war, and that bloody year touched us all. The Chinese say, 'May you live in interesting times.' Well, maybe not that interesting. Thanks for the great review.
Peace, Lee
Comment from Rob Caudle
I too remember 68 I was home on compassionate leave to see my first child born while the 68 Chicago riots were going on I was stunned that the country that employed me and was sending me back to the bush could engage in such egregious violations of its citizenry. Bobby seal was chained to a chair and gagged in the American courtroom of judge Julius Hoffman the same court where Abby and his so called conspirators were tried, all the while my friends and I smoked great dope and med-evacked the wounded. It was indeed a strange and cofusing year. Who were these people who had sent my friends and me so far from home and then beat, jailed and killed the friends we had left behind. Thanks for penning and posting this piece.
Rob
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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I too remember 68 I was home on compassionate leave to see my first child born while the 68 Chicago riots were going on I was stunned that the country that employed me and was sending me back to the bush could engage in such egregious violations of its citizenry. Bobby seal was chained to a chair and gagged in the American courtroom of judge Julius Hoffman the same court where Abby and his so called conspirators were tried, all the while my friends and I smoked great dope and med-evacked the wounded. It was indeed a strange and cofusing year. Who were these people who had sent my friends and me so far from home and then beat, jailed and killed the friends we had left behind. Thanks for penning and posting this piece.
Rob
Comment Written 04-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Your story makes mine seem a bit whiney. I'm glad you made it back. Thanks for the review. Peace, Lee
Comment from Realist101
Hi Lee...I was in eighth grade that year...bobbling around in school with not a clue about the real world. I do remember dad going on about the war, but I can't remember much more than he thought is was a waste. I admire your ability to roll with those kinds of punches Lee. I would have come up fighting back. But at least you were there and that in itself is something to be proud of. I do understand how your dad could have been upset with you. It probably also scared the beJesus out of him? And I hope your shoulder's okay. Wow. Nice work Lee. I found no spaggies either. Susan
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Hi Lee...I was in eighth grade that year...bobbling around in school with not a clue about the real world. I do remember dad going on about the war, but I can't remember much more than he thought is was a waste. I admire your ability to roll with those kinds of punches Lee. I would have come up fighting back. But at least you were there and that in itself is something to be proud of. I do understand how your dad could have been upset with you. It probably also scared the beJesus out of him? And I hope your shoulder's okay. Wow. Nice work Lee. I found no spaggies either. Susan
Comment Written 03-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Thank you, Susan. I'm glad you enjoyed this. Eighth graders should be bobbing around clueless. Thanks again. Peace, Lee
Comment from seaglass
An excellent piece. I remember 1968 and 69 and 70.... Would you have believed after the pain, courage and determination of the 60's protests and ictories, we would see America wanting to go back to some of those ideals we fought so hard to change. Thank you for what you did. You did nothing wrong, we did nothing wrong, except to demonstrate what democracy is suppose to be. Glad you still have your spirit.
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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An excellent piece. I remember 1968 and 69 and 70.... Would you have believed after the pain, courage and determination of the 60's protests and ictories, we would see America wanting to go back to some of those ideals we fought so hard to change. Thank you for what you did. You did nothing wrong, we did nothing wrong, except to demonstrate what democracy is suppose to be. Glad you still have your spirit.
Comment Written 03-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Thank you so much, seaglass. I enjoy writing about historic events from 'the little guy's' point of view, but I don't often get a chance to really participate. Thank you for a fine review. Peace, Lee
Comment from Spitfire
What an opener! I remember 1968. I had my first child. The contractions were so unbearable that I made believe I was a war prisoner being tortured by the enemy. It seemed so much nobler than labor pains. Now, don't assume I was pro-war or anti. Too consumed with motherhood. I enjoyed your quippy style of writing (yes, rhymes with hippy) Excellent description of how the police treated you and how your father and you kept an angry silence. A great ending. I'm sure there's some magazine that would print this piece.
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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What an opener! I remember 1968. I had my first child. The contractions were so unbearable that I made believe I was a war prisoner being tortured by the enemy. It seemed so much nobler than labor pains. Now, don't assume I was pro-war or anti. Too consumed with motherhood. I enjoyed your quippy style of writing (yes, rhymes with hippy) Excellent description of how the police treated you and how your father and you kept an angry silence. A great ending. I'm sure there's some magazine that would print this piece.
Comment Written 03-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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Thank you, Shari. I'm sure I'd rather get a knock on the noggin than give birth. Thanks for the fine review, and the encouragement. Peace, Lee
Comment from FrankieXP
This tale is a literary time capsule told by one of an aging and grand-parently generation. At age 61, I was part of this American history as well. I too protested, even going to Miami "sit down" against the Republican convention of 1972. The madness of '68 did not stop, it simply shifted to Nixon's broken election promise of '68 to end the Vietnam war promptly. As we know, he escalated it.
The piece is told with almost the same passions and viewpoint of the kid who lived the story itself. The telling ends with the same conviction of 44 years earlier: ". . . I don't remember what I did wrong." Therein is a weakness of the piece: Is there no greater wisdom to be shared? Maybe not. Maybe this 18 year old really was just having a little adventure as a political activist, and was upset that the police interfered with his innocent fun?
This rating does not count towards story rating or author rank.
The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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This tale is a literary time capsule told by one of an aging and grand-parently generation. At age 61, I was part of this American history as well. I too protested, even going to Miami "sit down" against the Republican convention of 1972. The madness of '68 did not stop, it simply shifted to Nixon's broken election promise of '68 to end the Vietnam war promptly. As we know, he escalated it.
The piece is told with almost the same passions and viewpoint of the kid who lived the story itself. The telling ends with the same conviction of 44 years earlier: ". . . I don't remember what I did wrong." Therein is a weakness of the piece: Is there no greater wisdom to be shared? Maybe not. Maybe this 18 year old really was just having a little adventure as a political activist, and was upset that the police interfered with his innocent fun?
This rating does not count towards story rating or author rank.
The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
Comment Written 03-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 04-Jun-2012
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FrankieXP, thank you for your honest comments. I'm sorry my piece (or my lack of wisdom) disappointed you so. Peace, Lee
Comment from JBCaine
Dammit, Hump-
You had me right up to the Author's Notes. All Peace and Love and Ganja. Then you go and stick Bobby Kennedy together with the good Dr. King.
One, a true idealist, and the other, the very picture of what the 99% purport to be rallying against still today. Granted, neither tragic death is excusable or acceptable, but the two are not comparable other than as opposites.
Anyway, I hope you'll forgive my mini-rant. Or just ignore it. That's what my wife does, and it seems to work for us.
As far as the story goes, once again, you show just what makes you a superb storyteller. I'm just in a ranting mood today, and should have waited until tomorrow to review.
Anybody can say, "I went to a march. For no reason at all, I was given the Oaken Shampoo by the cops. The old man and I fought about it for years."
As so few can do, you take that little teeny bit of your history and turn it into an experience into which you then grab us and stick us front and center.
As always, that is the difference between a story and a work of art.
"I remember the thing that used to be my pitching arm going instantly numb." Gorgeous line. Too many others to mention.
Best.
JBCaine
reply by the author on 05-Jun-2012
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Dammit, Hump-
You had me right up to the Author's Notes. All Peace and Love and Ganja. Then you go and stick Bobby Kennedy together with the good Dr. King.
One, a true idealist, and the other, the very picture of what the 99% purport to be rallying against still today. Granted, neither tragic death is excusable or acceptable, but the two are not comparable other than as opposites.
Anyway, I hope you'll forgive my mini-rant. Or just ignore it. That's what my wife does, and it seems to work for us.
As far as the story goes, once again, you show just what makes you a superb storyteller. I'm just in a ranting mood today, and should have waited until tomorrow to review.
Anybody can say, "I went to a march. For no reason at all, I was given the Oaken Shampoo by the cops. The old man and I fought about it for years."
As so few can do, you take that little teeny bit of your history and turn it into an experience into which you then grab us and stick us front and center.
As always, that is the difference between a story and a work of art.
"I remember the thing that used to be my pitching arm going instantly numb." Gorgeous line. Too many others to mention.
Best.
JBCaine
Comment Written 03-Jun-2012
reply by the author on 05-Jun-2012
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Hey, JB. Sorry Bobby doesn't pass muster. But I'm glad this piece has some resonance for you. I'm amazed by how eager the younger readers are to dismiss this era as irrelevant. I love 'oaken shampoo' and I may steal it. Thanks so much, JB. Peace (see? I still carry vestiges), Lee
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Lee-
Your vestiges are the good kind. What little I know of you tells me you are a good soul with actual altruistic principles. AND, unlike many of the leftover Hippies out here, your bio indicates that at some point you actually accepted that showers do have a purpose.
I have no no call to talk smack about Bobby K. He did accomplish some good things. In my opinion, though, he was just not anywhere near the same caliber human being as Dr. King. All of us have our foibles and faults, but for most of us, they don't include blackmail and powergrabs. I am not a believer in the ends justifying the means (most of the time).
Sorry. There I go again. Dammit! Should have waited until tomorrow to reply.
Regardless, it is a great story. I do hope to buy your book one day.
The "oaken shampoo" is not mine, so go ahead and steal it. I did.
Best,
JBCaine
