1970 was an incredible year for tumultuous and benign events.
> The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) was created.
> The first Earth Day was on April 22.
> The Beatles disbanded after releasing the album, Let it Be.
> The Concorde made its first flight.
> The first woman jockey was in the Kentucky Derby.
> Apollo 13 made its historical and almost tragic flight.
> Crosby, Stills & Nash won a Grammy.
> Joni Mitchell played her final concert at the Royal Albert Hall.
> The Who’s ‘Tommy’ was performed at Lincoln Center in New York.
> Christine McVie joined Fleetwood Mac.
> The voting age was lowered to 18.
> Janis Joplin made her debut.
> The movie, Catch-22, was released, and M*A*S*H debuted.
> (source)
Lots of great music back then! It was integral to the times.
Amidst all of that, though, the one event that has stuck with me all these years is the killing of four students at Kent State University in Ohio.
When Nixon invaded Cambodia on April 29, I was a 16 year old sophomore in boarding school in Greenfield, MA. A few activists got most of us to walk out of school that day and hitchhike about 30 miles to Northampton for rallies, speeches, music, getting high and rebelling. There must have been a couple hundred girls on the interstate with their thumbs out. What a sight! We returned by dinner time, and spent the evening talking about what we learned and accomplished that day.
The anti-war movement had been gaining momentum for several years. It kept escalating and felt frenetic, a fast and furious upward spiral to keep on being vocal until we were heard. I can’t put words to what was going on, but when I see history shows on tv, the emotions come back.
But I can’t name them.
A few days later, students at Kent State were protesting against Nixon’s invasion, just like we had. Out of fear, the Ohio National Guard opened fire on them. Four were killed; two were protesters, two were students going to class.
I was … shocked … stunned … horrified. I felt like I couldn’t move, and everything suddenly seemed silent. I couldn’t make sense of what had happened, but it felt like this was the beginning of the end of the protesting, the movement, the revolution and the war. It seemed to be a turning point. The frenetic pace seemed to have ended in one afternoon.
And so much was taken away from us.
When I went to college two years later, we had an exchange program for the month of January. Some kids were gone, and some new ones came. It was experimental and felt very weird.
One of the women who came to live in my dorm was the sister of Allison Krause, one of the students killed at Kent State. Some googling gave me the name, Laurel. I don’t remember that as her name, but it was a long time ago, and I remember little from those days. My memory tells me she was very quiet and kept to herself. I felt that she was very sad, and I let her be. I don’t remember engaging with her much, but I do remember her presence, and it moved me. I was honored and humbled to ‘know’ her.
Every year since then, on May 4, Kent State has come into my mind. As I was writing my piece last week the 40th anniversary of Earth Day, I realized Kent State was another 40th year anniversary. The times and the event are clear in my mind and still move me, and now I have a 19 year old daughter of my own. I can’t imagine the pain, not just of losing a child or sibling, but of losing one in turmoil such as we saw during those times.
Last night, I came across this fabulous article from the Daily Kos. They came up with the same info I did while I was googling Kent State and put it together really well. Please read it.
You can follow Laurel on Twitter and read her website. It’s far from over for the survivors, their families and everyone else who was there.
