Bill’s panic was interrupted by Pat who now appeared before him, carrying two cups of tea. She set one down on the coffee table in front of Bill. The other cup she kept, balancing it carefully, as she sat down on the sofa, leaving a comfortable space between Bill and her.
Soundtrack: A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall---Bob DylanBuy an MP3 of the original recording
Buy a CD of the original album
"A penny for your thoughts?" she ventured tritely.
Cliché or no, he seized upon Pat's query to avoid thinking any further about his growing attraction to her. The Dylan song playing on the stereo got him thinking about the year that had just passed, so full of turmoil, dashed hopes, tragedy, and death. Would 1969 be more of the same? It was hard to believe the country could withstand another 1968, a year in which all hope seemed to have died for him and for so many others.
"Well... you know, Pat, I was just reflecting on this past year. Maybe that's what's got me down. This has been a year of enormous shocks and bitter disappointments for me... really, for all of us, I think. God! Barely a year ago, I was close to finishing the book I need to get published in order to get tenure... and then... the world started to fly apart."
Pat stared in at his face. "Go on," she encouraged him gently.
For a moment he sat and listened to Dylan’s vision of the times, as he replayed in his mind the dramatic and disturbing events that had occurred in rapid-fire sequence over just the first six months of last year. Then slowly he began to relate his own experience of those events, a story he'd told any number of times this past year to students, bed-partners, anyone who'd listen.
"Well, I guess it all began with the Tet offensive last January--- a pretty clear signal to all, even Walter fucking Cronkite, that we were NOT winning the war!
But for me, it started on the last day of March. I was in DC for a conference and I walked into the hotel lobby and right there on a big TV monitor was LBJ giving one of his typical war-justifying speeches, when toward the end of his speech, he suddenly announced he wouldn't run for re-election! Well, at first I didn't really understand what the fucker had said (I don't think anybody did), but then it sunk in... and I leaped in the air and thrust my right arm and fist up, and shouted, 'YES!'"
Pat's eyes were wide, as she listened to Bill's animated recollections. "Wow! I only read about it the next day in the papers. That was startling enough, but to have heard it live when it happened and... in DC for gosh sakes? You must have been really excited!"
Pat was into it. That pleased Bill. "Excited? I was ecstatic! Well anyway, there were lots of people in the lobby and most of them just stared at me, I guess wondering if I was some kind of anarchist or nut case or something. I didn't give a shit. I was so elated. As far as I was concerned, Johnson was a fucking Judas. In 1964, I'd voted for him, the first time I ever voted for a major party candidate rather than a socialist or progressive party candidate. Why? Because I was so afraid of Goldwater's war-mongering.
And what did that asshole, Johnson, do? He used some tiny, probably phony, incident in the Gulf of Tonkin as an excuse to escalate the fucking war far beyond where it was, beyond where even goddamn Goldwater probably would have taken it!" Bill stopped to catch his breath and remember his bitterness about Johnson's betrayal of his (Bill's) trust. He sipped his now tepid tea.
"So anyway," Bill continued, "Johnson's withdrawal from the race was very welcomed news to me! Still, I was stunned. A sitting President forced out of office by public opinion and by the political courage of a mild-mannered poet-Senator from Minnesota! Can you imagine?"
Pat nodded, sipping her tea as well. "Yeah, it was amazing, wasn't it? But... unfortunately..."
"Yeah," Bill sighed forlornly. "Unfortunately, the euphoria of that moment faded fast. Less than a week later, Dr. King was dead..."
A small tear trickled down Pat's cheek, as she added, "Gunned down on a Memphis motel balcony by cowardly, racist assassins... his glorious dreams of ending racial inequality, the War, and poverty all shattered."
As if singing a tragic duet, Bill and Pat continued, alternating in their reminiscences of the past decade of death and destruction, of disappointment and despair. First Bill, "Our dream, too, shattered once again... as in 1963 when JFK was assassinated."
Then Pat, "...and in 1965 when Malcolm X was murdered."
Back to Bill, "And now, the greatest of them all, the peace-loving Reverend Martin Luther King Jr."
Now Pat, "A man who had inspired so many black people like myself to pursue the dream of racial and social justice! Nor was that to be the end to the killing or to the loss of great men."
Bill choked up and could hardly go on, "No... barely two months after Dr. King's death, yet another assassin's bullet claimed the life of Robert Kennedy... a man who I, and so many others, hoped and believed would lead the country out of the war and away from inequality into a new era of peace, social justice, and racial harmony."
Bill and Pat looked into each other's eyes and reached their hands out to one another. Tears were now streaming down both their faces, as they fell silent. In that silence, Bill clearly recalled his feelings that June morning when he'd awakened to hear the news that Bobby was dead. He had been devastated by this death, more so than by any of the others.
He began to talk again, very quietly, "You know, after Dr. King's death, I really believed the killing would stop. I believed that Bobby Kennedy would win the Democratic Party nomination over the objections of the party hacks and apologists for the war. I believed he would be the next President of the United States. I believed that he would end the war and turn the attention of the country to ending poverty and racial injustice, as well."
Pat squeezed Bill's hand. He felt her compassion flow through his body. She understood the pain he had felt... the pain he still felt. He had believed in so much... until that day, as he watched in horror on the morning news, the murder of the last politician he would ever believe in.
"You know, Pat, when Bobby was killed, I stopped believing in anything related to politics in America. I was afraid to. I began to think that if I rested my hopes on any political figure, he'd be killed!"
Pat wiped the tears from her eyes and looked intently into Bill's face, "I know, Bill. I know. I feel the same way. Exactly!"
Now it was Bill's turn; he squeezed Pat's hand. At that moment, he felt, they were totally in synch with each other's feelings. "Still, old habits die hard and, in July, despite myself, I found myself watching the Democratic Convention on TV. So what did I see? Mayor Daley's Chicago cops tear gassing and clubbing protesters and innocent bystanders alike. Abraham Ribicoff bravely denouncing this offense to civil liberties from the convention podium and Daley and his cronies jeering him from the audience."
Pat interrupted him, "I didn't watch it. Is it true that they yelled, 'Get out, you Jew?' It just doesn't seem possible that could have happened... here, now, in America."
Bill nodded, sadly, "I'm afraid it did, at least it sure looked like it did on TV! And more! Some of Daley's goons tried to bodily remove this young CBS reporter, Dan Rather, from the convention floor. You could see it and hear him struggling and gasping for breath. But, you know, after all the assassinations, the outrages at the convention didn't really surprise me. In fact, they hardly stirred me. I'd already given up on politics. Truthfully, I'd already given up on America. In fact, since the killings of Dr. King and Bobby, it's been all I can do to hang onto life."
That statement seemed to shock Pat. She grabbed Bill by both shoulders, "No, Bill! Don't say that! It can't be true! Their deaths were tragic... and a great loss to us all... but, you've... we've got to keep going, striving to make this world a better place, a place of justice for all people. If people like us give up, it will leave the world in charge of assholes like Daley and racists like George Wallace and Orville Faubus. We can't do that!"
Links
1968, "the worst year of the century"
Tet offensive, begun January 30, 1968
Walter Cronkite questions the status of the Viet Nam War (February 27, 1968)
Walter Cronkite questions the status of the Viet Nam War (February 27, 1968) [video]
LBJ's announces that he won't run for re-election (March 31, 1968) [audio]
1964 presidential campaign between LBJ and Barry Goldwater
Gulf of Tonkin incident (1964)
Eugene McCarthy, Senator from Minnesota, successfully challenges LBJ in New Hampshire primary (March, 1968)
Robert Kennedy tells a crowd in Indianapolis that Martin Luther King has been assassinated (April 4, 1968) [video]
Assassination of Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. (April 4, 1968)
Assassination of President Kennedy (November 22, 1963)
Assassination of Malcolm X (February 21, 1965)
Assassination of Robert Kennedy (June 5, 1968)
1968 Democratic Convention: Protesters and Chicago Police[video]
The History They Didn't Teach You in School"--August 29th: 1968 Democratic Convention
The Confrontation between Senator Abraham Ribicoff and Mayor Richard Daley at the 1968 Democratic Convention
CBS Reporter Dan Rather is manhandled on the 1968 Democratic Convention floor [video]
Richard J. Daley, Mayor of Chicago
George Wallace, Governor of Alabama
Orville Faubus, Governor of Arkansas
Bob Dylan (Buy CDs of his albums)
Go to the next scene in Bill's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Bill, Scene 11 "Alone"
Go to the previous scene in Bill's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Bill, Scene 9 "What a Mess!"
Go to a related scene
New Year's Eve 1968: Pat, Scene 10 "Forgiveness"
"Well, I guess it all began with the Tet offensive last January--- a pretty clear signal to all, even Walter fucking Cronkite, that we were NOT winning the war!
But for me, it started on the last day of March. I was in DC for a conference and I walked into the hotel lobby and right there on a big TV monitor was LBJ giving one of his typical war-justifying speeches, when toward the end of his speech, he suddenly announced he wouldn't run for re-election! Well, at first I didn't really understand what the fucker had said (I don't think anybody did), but then it sunk in... and I leaped in the air and thrust my right arm and fist up, and shouted, 'YES!'"
Pat's eyes were wide, as she listened to Bill's animated recollections. "Wow! I only read about it the next day in the papers. That was startling enough, but to have heard it live when it happened and... in DC for gosh sakes? You must have been really excited!"
Pat was into it. That pleased Bill. "Excited? I was ecstatic! Well anyway, there were lots of people in the lobby and most of them just stared at me, I guess wondering if I was some kind of anarchist or nut case or something. I didn't give a shit. I was so elated. As far as I was concerned, Johnson was a fucking Judas. In 1964, I'd voted for him, the first time I ever voted for a major party candidate rather than a socialist or progressive party candidate. Why? Because I was so afraid of Goldwater's war-mongering.
And what did that asshole, Johnson, do? He used some tiny, probably phony, incident in the Gulf of Tonkin as an excuse to escalate the fucking war far beyond where it was, beyond where even goddamn Goldwater probably would have taken it!" Bill stopped to catch his breath and remember his bitterness about Johnson's betrayal of his (Bill's) trust. He sipped his now tepid tea.
"So anyway," Bill continued, "Johnson's withdrawal from the race was very welcomed news to me! Still, I was stunned. A sitting President forced out of office by public opinion and by the political courage of a mild-mannered poet-Senator from Minnesota! Can you imagine?"
Pat nodded, sipping her tea as well. "Yeah, it was amazing, wasn't it? But... unfortunately..."
"Yeah," Bill sighed forlornly. "Unfortunately, the euphoria of that moment faded fast. Less than a week later, Dr. King was dead..."
A small tear trickled down Pat's cheek, as she added, "Gunned down on a Memphis motel balcony by cowardly, racist assassins... his glorious dreams of ending racial inequality, the War, and poverty all shattered."
As if singing a tragic duet, Bill and Pat continued, alternating in their reminiscences of the past decade of death and destruction, of disappointment and despair. First Bill, "Our dream, too, shattered once again... as in 1963 when JFK was assassinated."
Then Pat, "...and in 1965 when Malcolm X was murdered."
Back to Bill, "And now, the greatest of them all, the peace-loving Reverend Martin Luther King Jr."
Now Pat, "A man who had inspired so many black people like myself to pursue the dream of racial and social justice! Nor was that to be the end to the killing or to the loss of great men."
Bill choked up and could hardly go on, "No... barely two months after Dr. King's death, yet another assassin's bullet claimed the life of Robert Kennedy... a man who I, and so many others, hoped and believed would lead the country out of the war and away from inequality into a new era of peace, social justice, and racial harmony."
Bill and Pat looked into each other's eyes and reached their hands out to one another. Tears were now streaming down both their faces, as they fell silent. In that silence, Bill clearly recalled his feelings that June morning when he'd awakened to hear the news that Bobby was dead. He had been devastated by this death, more so than by any of the others.
He began to talk again, very quietly, "You know, after Dr. King's death, I really believed the killing would stop. I believed that Bobby Kennedy would win the Democratic Party nomination over the objections of the party hacks and apologists for the war. I believed he would be the next President of the United States. I believed that he would end the war and turn the attention of the country to ending poverty and racial injustice, as well."
Pat squeezed Bill's hand. He felt her compassion flow through his body. She understood the pain he had felt... the pain he still felt. He had believed in so much... until that day, as he watched in horror on the morning news, the murder of the last politician he would ever believe in.
"You know, Pat, when Bobby was killed, I stopped believing in anything related to politics in America. I was afraid to. I began to think that if I rested my hopes on any political figure, he'd be killed!"
Pat wiped the tears from her eyes and looked intently into Bill's face, "I know, Bill. I know. I feel the same way. Exactly!"
Now it was Bill's turn; he squeezed Pat's hand. At that moment, he felt, they were totally in synch with each other's feelings. "Still, old habits die hard and, in July, despite myself, I found myself watching the Democratic Convention on TV. So what did I see? Mayor Daley's Chicago cops tear gassing and clubbing protesters and innocent bystanders alike. Abraham Ribicoff bravely denouncing this offense to civil liberties from the convention podium and Daley and his cronies jeering him from the audience."
Pat interrupted him, "I didn't watch it. Is it true that they yelled, 'Get out, you Jew?' It just doesn't seem possible that could have happened... here, now, in America."
Bill nodded, sadly, "I'm afraid it did, at least it sure looked like it did on TV! And more! Some of Daley's goons tried to bodily remove this young CBS reporter, Dan Rather, from the convention floor. You could see it and hear him struggling and gasping for breath. But, you know, after all the assassinations, the outrages at the convention didn't really surprise me. In fact, they hardly stirred me. I'd already given up on politics. Truthfully, I'd already given up on America. In fact, since the killings of Dr. King and Bobby, it's been all I can do to hang onto life."
That statement seemed to shock Pat. She grabbed Bill by both shoulders, "No, Bill! Don't say that! It can't be true! Their deaths were tragic... and a great loss to us all... but, you've... we've got to keep going, striving to make this world a better place, a place of justice for all people. If people like us give up, it will leave the world in charge of assholes like Daley and racists like George Wallace and Orville Faubus. We can't do that!"
Links
1968, "the worst year of the century"
Tet offensive, begun January 30, 1968
Walter Cronkite questions the status of the Viet Nam War (February 27, 1968)
Walter Cronkite questions the status of the Viet Nam War (February 27, 1968) [video]
LBJ's announces that he won't run for re-election (March 31, 1968) [audio]
1964 presidential campaign between LBJ and Barry Goldwater
Gulf of Tonkin incident (1964)
Eugene McCarthy, Senator from Minnesota, successfully challenges LBJ in New Hampshire primary (March, 1968)
Robert Kennedy tells a crowd in Indianapolis that Martin Luther King has been assassinated (April 4, 1968) [video]
Assassination of Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. (April 4, 1968)
Assassination of President Kennedy (November 22, 1963)
Assassination of Malcolm X (February 21, 1965)
Assassination of Robert Kennedy (June 5, 1968)
1968 Democratic Convention: Protesters and Chicago Police[video]
The History They Didn't Teach You in School"--August 29th: 1968 Democratic Convention
The Confrontation between Senator Abraham Ribicoff and Mayor Richard Daley at the 1968 Democratic Convention
CBS Reporter Dan Rather is manhandled on the 1968 Democratic Convention floor [video]
Richard J. Daley, Mayor of Chicago
George Wallace, Governor of Alabama
Orville Faubus, Governor of Arkansas
Bob Dylan (Buy CDs of his albums)
Go to the next scene in Bill's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Bill, Scene 11 "Alone"
Go to the previous scene in Bill's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Bill, Scene 9 "What a Mess!"
Go to a related scene
New Year's Eve 1968: Pat, Scene 10 "Forgiveness"
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