Staying Alive—The Life and Times of an American Baby Boomer Part 2

Excerpted and Abbreviated from: Chapter 3 – The College Park Disturbances – May 1970 The Multi-Colored Line …it was difficult to tell whether Route 1 was open or closed. There were no vehicles traveling on it, but there weren't any students actively blocking it either. Up on the hill beside the Chapel a large group of students were beginning to coalesce. I headed in that direction. The view of Route 1 from the hill was pretty good. While I stood there evaluating the tactical advantages of my position, a long-haired girl approached me and handed me a black arm-band. “For the Kent State Four,” she said. Then she moved on to distribute more arm-bands. I tied the black arm-band to my left arm. A pimply-faced guy came up and handed me a green arm-band. “For the Earth, man, we've got to protect the Earth,” he said in an off-handed, spaced out voice. He looked at me expectantly. How could I turn him down? “We sure do, man, thanks.” He smiled and wandered off, distributing his wares. I tied the green arm-band to my left forearm. Another guy came up to me and offered me a red arm-band. “For the revolution, man,” he said. “No thanks, man,” I responded, “I've got all I need right now.” “Power to the People, man,” he returned. “Power to the People,” I echoed. He too wandered off. I saw someone handing out yellow arm-bands, but I was never offered one, and I never did find out what they were supposed to represent. Must be the day for arm-bands, I mused. I saw few people that I knew well, but that was not unusual for the College Park campus. I did run into Harry Rabbitt. I thought that I was decked out in my finest demonstration attire and regalia - what with my best patched-up jeans, my soft-soled Indian moccasins, my khaki shirt, my best leather head-band, and my three strings of love beads. Not to mention all the appropriate arm-bands. But Harry had us all beat. Long hair, full beard. And of course he had donned khaki fatigues, including combat boots. But he also came equipped with a real World War One helmet, and his own gas mask, also of WWI vintage, in convenient carrying case. “Hey, Harry, how's it going?” I said. Harry was one of the original “Skinner 87”, the guys who took Skinner Hall for a day and a night a few months back. It was also rumored that he was one of the leaders of the current hostilities. “Better get ready for some serious shit, man.” With those words of wisdom he moved off to gather his field staff. Sometime after ten thirty the first small group of radical demonstrators made a sortie towards the South Gate and Route 1. The police were ready, and they clashed in front of the monumental entrance that made up the South Gate. The police were also equipped in their best demonstration attire, with riot helmets, extra-long riot sticks, tear gas masks, and a full brace of tear gas. Some even had riot shields. The skirmish didn't last long, with the students retreating back up the hill. Immediately following the retreat, another small group of demonstrators made a sally towards Route 1 directly in front of us. They were met by the police at the brick wall. Rocks and fists and riot sticks flew. The skirmish lasted less than ten minutes, then this group also retreated. Reconnaissance in Force. During the hour of skirmishes, more and more police assembled along Route 1. There must have been representatives from every jurisdiction in the State. There were more state troopers than any other type, but almost half of the assembled forces were from the counties and cities and towns across Maryland. Every jurisdiction had its own style of uniform - different colors and styles and cuts. Some very military looking, some rather gaudy. As they gathered with their units, interspersed with the tan of the state troopers, I had a vision of how Napoleon's and Wellington’s armies must have looked at Waterloo – the police looked like regiments of Napoleonic soldiers, a multi-colored line spread out before us. Many of the demonstrators went down the hill to meet the multi-colored line, and there was a lot of trading of rocks and tear gas canisters. The main action was about 150 yards away from me. I began to wonder if it wasn't a good time for me to move off to the sidelines, so that I wouldn't get caught in the combat. As I pondered this, at some signal unheard by us on the hill, the entire police line charged the students. It was pretty rough, because the demonstrators were fighting back. Fists and clubs were flying, people were tripping and falling on the ground. Students were being picked up and carted off – by both sides. The police charged again, and the demonstrators moved forward to meet them. The conflict rolled in our direction, and then was pushed back again. After about ten minutes of scuffling, the police moved back down the hill to re-group. They took their wounded and their prisoners with them. The demonstrators were regrouping back on Regents Drive. I was now right in their midst. They were definitely getting the worst of the battle, although they were giving a good account of themselves. Soon, the police line charged again. Up the hill they swarmed, meeting the students in front of Annapolis Hall, crashing with the entire student line along Regents Drive, and pushing especially hard in front of the Chapel. Tear gas drifted everywhere - eerily resembling the smoke from gun and cannon fire. It was difficult to see what was really going on, but there were police and students wrestling not only in front of me, but to my right. Some police had penetrated the student line near Annapolis Hall. I started moving off to my left, towards the Chapel, to put more distance between me and danger. Suddenly I saw more police in front of the Chapel than students. The police were staging a right (to them) enfilade. They were flanking the left end of the student line, which immediately collapsed. The center gave way after it. The right end was already in turmoil. I was caught up in a massive retreat. I ran with a small group of students towards the Chapel. I had to dodge through police chasing other students as I ran up the steps to the large front doors. Melee came to mind. This was what it was like when Roman legionnaires broke through the lines of Gallic or Germanic tribes. The slaughter would come next. I entered the Chapel and ran down the right side aisle to the first side-door that I could find. I pushed it open and glanced out. Police were chasing students past me, back towards the rear of the Chapel, as I watched. They were surrounding the Chapel. I felt panicky. How was I to escape? I retraced my path back to the front door of the Chapel. I pushed open one of the big doors and looked outside. The only police in sight were down on Route 1. The main line had swept completely past the Chapel and was still pursuing demonstrators. I ran out into the open. I knew that if I turned to the right towards Annapolis Hall, I would be heading towards the middle of the original student line, and probably towards a major concentration of police. But I had just seen some police around the Chapel to my left. They were the closest ones that I was aware of. I decided to risk it and make a break for the Mall. Once there, if I eluded the police until then, I would have many avenues of escape. I bolted down the Chapel steps and turned left up Regents Drive towards the Mall. There were police to my left, hauling back students from behind the Chapel. There were also police behind me, and to my right, but these were too far away to cause me any immediate concern. I ran for all I was worth up the street towards the Mall. Although my break for safety was of paramount concern to me, I was only one student among many thousands to the police. Apparently they already had their hands full.