03/12/2020
She was finishing her senior year in High School and planning for college. In High School, in addition to class requirements and the usual high school activities, she worked with inner city kids tutoring them once a week, and she went to the "old age home" once a month to sing with the residents and play guitar for them. And, she worked on the campaign to get the vote for 18 year olds, because she didn't understand how 18 year olds were old enough to be drafted for war, but not to vote. Mostly though, her life had very few existential worries.
That is until the week before she left for college, and he got his draft papers. Suddenly, Viet Nam became very personal. As she was registering for classes, he was in basic training. As she was finding her way around campus, he was drilling and marching and learning about weapons. And, as everyone on campus went to football games, and she began working on the anti-war resistance on campus, he was sent to war.
While he was sitting in Viet Nam, she began marching against the war. She began carrying signs and making noise and getting angry. She noticed a guy who was several years older at the first organizing meetings. Maybe he was a grad student, she thought, but wasn't sure. He talked a lot, more than anyone else, when they all met to plan the first protest at the student union. He was charismatic and full of energy and rage at the establishment. He was always calling for revolution. He mesmerized the group, but, she knew that she didn't really want a revolution, she wanted an end to this war, she wanted all her guys to come home now, but didn't want revolution, but, she said nothing then.
Then, on the day of the planned protest, she looked for that older guy, the leader as she came to think of him, but didn't see him anywhere. She and her protest friends began to march, holding their hand made signs, chanting and determined to have their voices heard. The plan was for a peaceful yet rowdy event. But it was not to be because someone started tossing bottles over their heads at the police. And, when one projectile came sailing over and hit one of the campus policemen on the head and shattered, there was blood, and the chaos began, and tear gas was shot at the marchers, and the ones in front were overwhelmed by the fumes, and bottles kept sailing over and shattering everywhere... She used her anti war sign as a shield, and she and her friends who had been in front turned to retreat away from the police. In that moment, she felt like the war had come home....
And then, through the tear gas and the chaos and the yelling and the screaming she saw that guy, the one who always talked about revolution. There he was, standing in the very back of the group, and he was the one throwing those bottles over the heads of the marchers toward the police.... and she understood, he really wanted the chaos, he really wanted a revolution, just like he always said, and, he didn't really care about the kids in front who were getting hurt..... it was all about his agenda, and they were merely his props, and she knew that he would never put himself at the front of a march unless and until all he had to do was talk.....
