Note: Forty-five years ago, tomorrow, the Tet Offensive
was launched in Vietnam. A week before, the USS Pueblo had been
captured at sea. It was a hell of a way to start a year. It was 1968. The piece below was written in 2012; after some foolishness it takes a look at 1968, a year shaped by unusual violence.
*
After no sleep for a couple of nights,
while being overcome by a virus, I finally dozed off. Wouldn’t you know
it, the ghost of Richard Nixon
came to me in a dream. He said he had a message for Mitt Romney.
"Hey, I don't like Romney a bit," I said. So, I told Nixon to quit bothering me, he should just tell Romney himself.
Frowning and shaking his jowls, Nixon said he’d stop pestering me when I promise to never draw another mean caricature of him.
Naturally, I chuckled, “No dice.”
So, Nixon instructed me, “Tell that Romney not to let anybody discourage
him from twisting the truth into whatever shape he likes, whenever the
hell he feels like it. You tell him that when a Republican President-elect says it during his run for office, it isn't called
lying. No sir! It’s called, advertising.”
Nixon waited for me to laugh. I didn't. Then he wanted to talk about the everlasting genius of his famous Checkers Speech.
To shut his trap, I woke up and ambled toward the bathroom. Covered in
sweat, I was hoping my fever had broken.
Then,
walking back toward my bed, I thought about the opinion polls that
suggest most Americans are sick and tired of the war in
Afghanistan, but they're itching to start a new war with Iran.
No joke.
After the Vietnam War, I foolishly thought I'd never see my country
mired in a long, unpopular war again. Of course, before the Bush
administration’s power-grabbing reaction to 9/11, I never anticipated
such a thing as a never-ending war on a tactic -- the War on Terror.
Thinking about how wrong well-meaning people can be about the
justifications of a war reminds me of 1968, a year that began with most
Americans supporting their nation’s war in Southeast Asia.
With the still-escalating war in Vietnam as a
backdrop, the stormy events of America’s 1968 unfolded the year after
San Francisco’s Summer of Love. In 1969 our swashbuckling
astronauts first set foot on the moon. My generation remembers 1968 for its wall-to-wall violence.
*
Jan. 23: The USS Pueblo was seized on the high seas by North
Korean forces; at least that’s the story I got. At the time I was in the
Navy and I had little doubt we would rescue the Pueblo’s crew, even if
it meant another war.
Subsequently, as captives, the Pueblo’s 83 men endured an ordeal that
was shocking to an American public that had naively thought its Super
Power status meant such things could not happen.
Jan. 30: The Tet Offensive began, as the shadowy Viet Cong flexed
its muscles and blurred battle lines with simultaneous assaults in many parts of South Vietnam. Even the American embassy in
Saigon was attacked.
Mar. 16: Some 500 Vietnamese villagers -- women, children and old
men (animals, too) -- were killed by American soldiers on patrol in
what came to be known as the My Lai Massacre. However, it would be another 20
months before investigative journalist Seymour Hersh would break the
horrifying story of the covered-up massacre, via the Associated Press
wire service.
Mar. 31: Facing the burgeoning antiwar-driven campaigns of Sen.
Eugene McCarthy and Sen. Robert Kennedy, President Lyndon Johnson
suddenly withdrew from the presidential race, declining to run for
reelection by saying, “I shall not seek and I will not accept the
nomination...”
Apr. 4: America’s most respected civil rights leader, Martin
Luther King, was shot and killed in Memphis, Tennessee. Riots followed in cities
coast-to-coast. The bitterness that remained after the dust settled was
scary.
In Richmond, it ended an era. Young adventurous whites who followed
music could no longer go in the black clubs they had once patronized. No more Sahara Club for me.
May 13: The USA and North Vietnam began a series of negotiations
to end the war in Vietnam that came to be known as the Paris Peace
Talks. Ironically, as a backdrop, France, itself, was in chaos. Workers
and students had shut down much of the country with a series of strikes.
The trains weren’t running, the airports were closed, as were schools,
etc.
May 24: On the same day I was discharged from the Navy, Father
Philip Berrigan and Thomas Lewis (of Artists Concerned About Vietnam)
got sentenced to six years for destroying federal property, stemming
from an incident where duck blood was poured over draft files at
Baltimore’s Selective Service headquarters.
June 3: Artist Andy Warhol nearly died from wounds received from a
gunshot fired by Valerie Solanis. She was a sometime writer and one of
the many off-beat characters who had occasionally hung out at Warhol’s
famous studio, The Factory.
June 5: Having just won the California primary, Robert Kennedy
was assassinated by Sirhan Sirhan in Los Angeles. The hopes of millions
that the Vietnam War would end soon died that night. It’s hard to
imagine that Richard Nixon would have been able to defeat Kennedy in the
general election.
Kennedy's death meant the gravy
train being enjoyed by
big corporations supplying the war effort would continue to chug along.
At this same time, 21-year-old Mitt Romney, who was a decidedly pro-war
guy, was acting as a Mormon missionary in France.
June 8: James Earl Ray was arrested in London. Eventually, he was
convicted of murdering Martin Luther King. Yet, questions about that
crime and Ray's role linger today.
July 23: After watching “2001: A Space Odyssey” at the
Westhampton Theatre, I saw The Who play live on stage at the Mosque (now
the Altria Theater). Looking at the long line to get into the concert, I
was quite surprised at how many hippies there were in Richmond. This was
in the period the band was into smashing up its equipment to finish off
shows.
The acid I took that day served me well.
Aug. 20: Soviet tanks rolled into Czechoslovakia to crush what
had been a season of renaissance. As it had been with the construction
of the Berlin Wall and the Cuban Missile Crisis, talk of World War III
being one button-push away was commonplace.
Aug. 28: In Chicago the Democratic convention that selected Vice
President Hubert Humphrey to top its ticket melted down. With tear gas
in the air and blood in the streets 178 demonstrators/bystanders were
arrested. Many were roughed up on live television. As cops clubbed
citizens in the streets, CBS reporters Mike Wallace and Dan Rather were
punched on the convention floor.
Watching the riots surrounding the Democratic convention on television, I
began wondering if those who were saying our society was coming unglued
might be right. Consequently, for the first time my political ideas
were aired out in a newspaper, when my letter to the editor was
published by the Richmond Times-Dispatch. That experience began a love
affair with seeing my name in print.
Oct. 18: At the Summer Olympics at Mexico City, American track
stars Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists during the medal
ceremony for the 200 meter race. Smith and Carlos wore black gloves (and
other symbolic accouterments) for a protest gesture that was widely
seen as a “black power” salute.
Nov. 5: Richard Nixon (depicted above) narrowly defeated Hubert
Humphrey. Although Humphrey, himself, was for peace, out of loyalty he
refused to denounce Johnson’s failing war policy. It cost Humphrey dearly.
Also elected that day was Shirley Chisholm from Brooklyn. She was the
first black female to serve in the House of Representatives.
Dec. 21: The first manned space mission to escape Earth’s gravity and orbit the moon began with the launching of Apollo 8.
Dec. 24: After having its way with them for 11 months, torture
and mock executions included, North Korea released all of the members of
the Pueblo’s crew but kept the ship. The U.S. Navy seemed to
blame the Pueblo’s captain, Commander Lloyd M. "Pete" Bucher, for the entire
painful fiasco. Mercifully, the Secretary of the Navy called off any
official punishment.
At the time, there was
a cumulative, escalating feeling that connected the most earthshaking events of 1968.
Each crazy thing that happened seemed to be feeding off of the last crazy
thing.
After 1968, the general public’s
perception of the antiwar movement’s
protests as being unpatriotic kaleidoscoped into something else. In June
of 1969 LIFE Magazine published “The Faces of the American Dead
in Vietnam: One Week’s Toll.” It was a ten-page story that featured
photographs and the names of 242 men who had died in the war in one
week.
The effect was dramatic. Looking at all those hopeful young faces was too much to bear, when we knew each
coming week was going to claim the lives of another two or three hundred young men.
In 1969 the
Hawks' picture of how a victory in Vietnam would look was rapidly fading into a
blur. With 1968 in the rear-view mirror, the Doves were beginning to prevail in the
propaganda struggle ... the bloody war went on, anyway.
-- 30 --
Note: This story is part of a collection of them at Biograph Times. Words and art by F.T. Rea. All rights reserved.
