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* Flowers Are Betteer Than Bullets: Kent State 45 Years Later
Whiting-Out History
by
Paul Keane
Forty-five years ago
on May 4th, at half past noon, I was watching pints of blood
flow out of Jeffrey Miller’s head onto the asphalt parking lot of Kent State
University . He had been
shot by Ohio National Guardsmen during a student protest, not over the Viet Nam war, but over the presence of Guardsmen
who had taken over the Kent
State campus because of
anti Viet-Nam-War protests. It’s a small distinction---anti-war vs. anti-guardsmen
protest --- but a telling one because history gets changed in the telling.
I didn’t know Jeffrey Miller’s name at that moment, although
I would work with his mother and the parents of the other three students
killed, for the next few years trying to get President Nixon to reverse Attorney General Mitchell
who refused to convene a federal grand jury
to investigate the shootings. We would eventually get it convened in
1973 when Nixon took his eyes off Kent
State to deal with
Watergate and an “acting attorney general” was put in place for just three
months. The administration had panicked
when the duly appointed attorney
general and his assistant attorney general both jumped ship in protest (the
“Saturday Night Massacre” it was called)
over Nixon’s cover-up in Watergate, and they had to have someone run the
Justice ship. Sounds confusing and it
was. History can turn course forever in
a simple three months, or in a tiny 13 seconds, the time it took guardsmen to
shoot 67 rounds into 13 students at Kent
State .
Without that three month temporary attorney general (Robert
Bork) no federal grand jury to investigate the Kent State
killings would ever have been convened.
After a month of taking testimony, that grand jury was disbanded forever by the judge for what he called
‘insufficient evidence’ : A failure to prove there was a “conspiracy” to
deprive the Kent State students of their civil rights before the gunshots were
fired. No conspiracy, no violation of the law.
You could be dead after you were shot by Ohio National Guardsmen, but
your civil rights would still be intact, unless the guardsmen had ‘agreed
beforehand’ (i.e ‘conspired’) to take your civil rights away. No guardsman has
ever spent a mille-second behind bars for killing those students.
I remember watching a national news show the day after the
killings and a mother of a college-age boy was being interviewed. Here are her
exact words, which I will never forget: “If my son had long hair and sandals he
should have been shot too.” That viciousness pinpoints the quality fear and
hatred between the generations in 1970. The healing humor of redneck Archie Bunker and his hippie
son-in-law, Meathead in the television series “All in the Family” had not been
invented yet. “Never trust anyone over thirty” was the mantra of a generation
of kids whose fathers were sending them off to die in Viet Nam . Does
anyone remember the Draft?
I didn’t know Jeffrey Miller. But I did know one of the three other
students who were dead near my feet in that parking lot: Allison Krause. She ate in the cafeteria of the dorm where I
was a graduate counselor, and was conspicuous at 5’10’ tall (a good target in a
crowd of shorter students) and conspicuous as a striking brunette beauty with
long hair.
She and her boyfriend were the Romeo and Juliet of our dorm
complex, always together, always embracing each other. She was dying in his arms
while Jeffrey Miller lay dead at my
feet, part of his skull blown off. The guardsman’s bullet that hit her exploded
on impact and ripped through several vital organs.
Alan Canfora was one of the nine wounded survivors, shot in the
wrist. He had been wearing a headband
like Jeffrey Miller, and had given the guardsmen an upraised middle finger
while waving a black flag, a clear target. He is sixty-five now, and will
become a father for the very first time, around this year’s forty-fifth
anniversary, his facebook page proudly proclaims. He has kept the annual
memorial services at Kent
State going for all these
years.
Sometimes history needs to stand still, if only for a candle
to burn in remembrance.
Dean Kahler, the most seriously wounded of the nine
survivors has been in a wheelchair for
forty-five years. He and I and two other Kent
State students drove from Ohio to the Nixon
White House for the second time since the shootings, during the Watergate
scandal in 1973, to present Nixon with 10,000 Kent State
signatures for a federal grand jury----- petitions which the President clearly did not want . Nixon was “busy
Watergating” to quote his aide Leonard
Garment, who promised us he would “pass
along the petitions to the President.”
Little did we know
that, because Nixon had taken his eye
off the Kent State ball to deal with Watergate, we
would actually get a grand jury convened. Dean Kahler, who held the heavy
cardboard box with those 10,000
signatures in his lap, has been in that wheelchair all these 45 years,
including that day in the White
House Executive
Office Building .
It is the closest a Kent
State victim ever got to President
Nixon, who willfully allowed justice to be delayed. Nixon’s own words after the shooting were
bloodless in their coldness; “When dissent turns to violence it invites
tragedy.” The day before the shootings,
Allison Krause, who would die in her boyfriend’s arms, put a flower in a
National Guardsman’s rifle and said, “Flowers are better than bullets.” The
Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko would write a poem dedicated to Allison Krause: He titled it “Flowers and Bullets.”
When I last saw Dean in Boston where we shared a hotel room for the 25th anniversary of the shootings at a memorial held by Emerson College, I became fully aware of the daily difficulties a paraplegic endures, despite the passage of the Americans for Disabilities Act which Dean worked to have made law after his own disability was thrust upon by Guardsmen’s bullets. Dean still had both his legs at that 25th anniversary, albeit paralyzed. His facebook page today reveals that they have since been amputated ; but, it also reveals that he still competes in wheelchair races. He too is in his 60’s now.
When I was watching the blood flow out of Jeffrey Miller’s
head, time stopped for me, or rather is seemed to slow down. I suppose that was
PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) ,
although that term hadn’t been invented in 1970. There was an eerie silence among the
crowd. A faculty marshal was shouting at
students to leave the area lest they all be killed. My eyes were so
riveted on Jeffrey Miller’s ashen face
and the flowing blood that I failed to
notice a girl on her knees screaming
near the body with her hands upraised. That
image became the most famous photo of the anti-war protest movement. It inspired the musical group, Crosby, Stills,
Nash and Young to create what became the
rock anthem for that movement, “Four Dead in Ohio”, whose line “Tin soldiers
and Nixon comin’ ” rang frighteningly
true.
All I could see was death, not the future photo which would imprint itself on the country’s conscience. There was no way anyone could lose this much
blood and not be dead, I thought .
I walked calmly, almost in a daze , back to my dorm to call
my parents in Connecticut
to tell them I was alive. When I found
that the phones were dead, I thought, “I am trapped” and I got in my car and drove out of town
with only the clothes on my back. (Cell
phones had not yet been invented.)
I noticed telephone
lines on the ground as I drove out of Kent, being “repaired, ” Or were they being disconnected to cut off
the students from the “outside agitators” which
Ohio’s governor, James A. Rhodes, claimed were coming to the Kent campus?
That fear-mongering was the governor’s pretext for having sent in the National Guard two days before : "They're worse than the Brownshirts,
and the Communist element, and also the Night Riders, and the vigilantes.
They're the worst type of people that we harbor in America and we’re not going to let
them take over campus,”[5]
Governor Rhodes had declared. He was running for the U.S. Senate and this rhetoric made him look tough. I did not find a working phone for ten miles.
The FBI took over the campus immediately after the shootings
and ordered 18,000 resident students to
leave at once; buses were brought in to ferry them away The campus had been
emptied by nightfall on May 4th, 1970. I was
a bit sick to my stomach. I drove to Cleveland where a family
I had met only once took me in.
Every room on campus was searched for “weapons”. One of my
RA’s ( resident advisors) was a geology
major in Manchester Hall, a dorm where I
was a counselor. His geology rock
collection was confiscated by the FBI and later appeared as evidence on a display table set up by the local Portage County grand jury for the press to
photograph, evidence that students had been harboring “weapons” in their dorms
to injure the National Guardsmen. Authorities (including FBI Director J. Edgar
Hoover) were desperate to prove that the guardsmen had acted in self-defense in
killing four ivory-tower children of American mothers on
an apple-pie Ohio
campus.
That
While hippies and yippies chanted “ Seig heil Judge Jones” I stood outside the Portage County
courthouse in 30 degree weather carrying a home-made sign saying “$137,000 of
your tax money is being WASTED.” I was
wearing a three piece suit to show the public I was respectable, even if I did
have a beard---a symbol of protest and rebellion in 1970. It snowed while I
stood there so I built a snowman to hold
my sign.
The closest student killed was 263 feet from a
Guardsman. Let’s assume he or she (two
of the fatalities were girls) had a rock as a weapon. Even the best pitcher in baseball couldn’t
throw a rock 263 feet with menacing accuracy. The local grand jury didn’t care.
And neither did the U. S.Attorney General.
It is worth noting here that Nixon’s
vice president, Spiro Agnew, himself a
lawyer, is on record as saying that in
his opinion the Kent
State killings “are at
least second degree murder.”
I am sorry to report that two years before the Kent State
killings, three male students were shot in the back and killed by state
troopers at South Carolina
State University
at Orangeburg during anti-segregation protests.
The students were black, and were soon forgotten.
And eleven days after the Kent State
killings, three students were killed by local and state police at Jackson State
College in Jackson Mississippi in an anti-war student protest. They too were black, and they too were soon
forgotten.
Not the bigotry of Orangeburg or Jackson State, , but the
passage of time, has finally diluted Kent State, a name which now sounds to modern ears like Iwo Jima sounded to
my ears fifty years ago, a distant event, inked in on the pages of a history
book. There is no blood left in the words “Kent State ”
at all.
And I suppose that is a blessing. How could we live in a world where over 60 million people were killed in a single
world war, if we carried their blood on our hands throughout our lives? The amnesia of history, its ability to
white-out guilt and shame , is probably a psychological necessity to assure the
continuance of humanity.
I wish I could tell you the American system worked and justice
was done for the dead and wounded who lay bleeding around my feet on the
parking lot at Kent
State forty-five years
ago. No, it was not justice : It was
just dumb luck.
Nixon took his eye
off his three-month-old acting- attorney
general, who somehow allowed a federal grand jury to squeak through the Justice
Department’s politically clenched iron fist. Did he intend it ---did he even know it? That three-month ‘temp, Acting Attorney General, Robert Bork, was himself
later rejected as being too conservative when nominated for the Supreme Court. One wonders about his
motives. Or perhaps he was a real lawyer, simply following the law, Watergate
or no Watergate.
I left Kent State late in 1973 and went on to Yale University Divinity School to
try to understand what kind of divine power would allow unarmed students to be maimed and killed by armed,
uniformed officers in America. I never found an answer to that question.
By 1977, seven years after the killings, I arranged for the largest collection of Kent State
archives related to the shootings to be donated not to Kent State Library which
refused to guarantee to protect them. Remember, Kent State was funded by the State of Ohio after all, a
state which was being sued by the parents of the dead students in a civil
lawsuit after the federal criminal grand
jury was dismissed by the judge, so it was absurd to think Kent State would
agree in writing to protect documents which might be used in evidence against their
own funding-source: Ohio .
No, the archives would go not to Kent
State —where they rightfully belonged,
historically speaking --- but to Yale University
instead, which not only guaranteed to
protect them but to put them in their
Manuscripts and Archives Division at Sterling Memorial Library. Yale has one of the great libraries of the
world with over fifteen million volumes. The donation is called the Kent State
Collection at Yale and can be found on the Internet today.
I have often said since then that getting the archives’ donated to Yale instead of to Kent State
was the only justice the parents of the dead would ever receive : Poetic
justice.
There has not even been the slim satisfaction of a poetic
justice for those slain black students
at Orangeburg and Jackson State during these forty-five years of honoring the white Kent State
dead.
How long will it be before Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown and
Tamir Rice are lost to such white-outs of history ? Or as demography changes, and people of color
become the American majority, are such white-outs
on their way out ?
M.A., M.Div., M.Ed
Paul Keane was a witness to the shootings and worked with the parents of the slain for justice. He established the
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