We Lost Our Innocence

You know, being a part of something memorable doesn’t seem like it at the time. For me, it was tragic. The Kent State massacre. I knew a couple of the victims, at least a little. Allison was in one of my classes, and William was a good friend of another friend of mine. Yeah, I had been aware of the protest to happen that Monday, and honestly planned to be a part of the protest.

           Looking back now, I realize how momentous that day was. It was like the nation had its rose-colored glasses finally kicked off, and we got a full view of the unrest. You people think Trump was a poor president? You didn’t have to live through Nixon! He could lie with the best of them, and had the smarts to make you believe it. At least pretty much everyone knows Trump was openly dishonest.

           Anyway, enough about now. You’re wanting to know back then. Ok, well here goes.

           All weekend, the tension had been increasing. You see, on Friday night, there were a bunch of people who had been drinking decided that it was time to continue the fairly peaceful rally we had held earlier in the day. Difference was, the students were cold sober…and the drunks, well…they were drunk. Not a good combination, beer and protests. It got out of hand, and the mayor called in reinforcements for the cops. I don’t remember his name, but when he called in the National Guard? Really? Calling in troops to try and control people protesting about troops?

           I heard some of the talk. You know, about how they wanted the press there…how they wanted the nation to see what was going on. I got asked about coming out to protest on Monday. I said I would. After all, this was a peaceful protest, right? No alcohol involved.

           The rest of the weekend was pretty much regular. Saturday night spent trying to find a date. Nope, not that weekend. Sunday, cramming for exams, getting some notes together for finals. There was this song on the radio getting a lot of airplay, “American Woman”. It was big then, but not with the girls…even the ones that thought Burton Cummings was all that!

           Monday came. There were morning classes to attend. Got out of my 2^nd morning class in time to get over to the library and cram in a few more essay notes for anthropology. Just barely made it to where a bunch of us met before attending the rally. There were a couple of chants people had thought up. Then we left, meeting up with other groups of people.

           I knew something was up when they started ringing the bell. You want to incite a bunch of students? Yeah, ring the victory bell. Something nice and loud that we can all hear. By this time, it was becoming apparent that the Guard wasn’t going to be there as decoration. No, they had their orders, alright. Orders to get us quiet! You think several hundred pissed-off students are scared of a small bunch of weekend warriors? Not a chance. At least, until we saw them mounting bayonets on their rifles and advancing.

           It was then that we realized we just might be in over our heads. Some of us, myself included, figured out pretty quick that this wasn’t going to be a standoff situation. But we couldn’t look like cowards to everyone else, right? So we stayed. Turns out courage may actually be fear of looking like you’re scared. You couldn’t look bad in front of your friends, right? That’s what it was like…at least most of the time. We didn’t know what anger could do to us.

           We ended up clustered around Prentice Hall, still sticking together. Those dumbass troops boxed themselves in at first. Yeah, weekend warriors! This standoff lasted about, oh, ten minutes or so. The troops must not have gauged the wind correctly. They were launching tear gas at us, but it was blowing back into their faces. Hell, not only wasn’t it affecting us, it was blocking their vision! About the only smart thing they’d done so far was wearing gear to protect themselves from the gas. You would have thought a decent military move would’ve had troops already stationed in the parking lots to either side. Some officer their squad leader was!

           After calling their bluff, when some of them got down into firing stances, we were a little more encouraged. Then it happened. Some say they heard a shot coming from the building behind us. Me, I’m not so sure. What I saw still chills my blood, all these years later.

           As I was watching, the Guardsmen knelt down into firing positions all at once. One of them opened fire with his pistol. Then the rifles started going off. These idiots weren’t using blanks! They were actually firing live rounds at American citizens! People started screaming, and a lot of it was pain. I saw a couple of people go down, blood erupting from their wounds. It was pure chaos! I didn’t get hit with any rounds, but I was knocked down by people trying to get away from the firing squad. I’ve still got the scar on my arm where I was pushed into the side of a parked car, breaking the window with my elbow. I could sure hear the rounds, like cracks going off nearby. I’ve not been that scared since. I wasn’t the only one. People were running in every direction, except towards the troops. Screams were so loud, you couldn’t think. It was just react and run, no chance of trying to think about what you’re doing.

           And you’d think that someone threatened them, for them to act this way, right? No, no way. There wasn’t anyone anywhere near them. And they kept firing at us, even though we were running away! You know, the more I think about, the angrier I’m getting. It’s no wonder we lost Vietnam. If the soldiers over there were like those…those…piss-ant Guardsmen, yeah I can see why.

           Finally, Professor Frank got in front of us. We had started to turn around, now an angry mob intent on going after those…them. It didn’t matter to us they had guns and we didn’t. There were a lot less of them than us. But Professor Frank, God rest his soul, managed to get everyone calmed down enough to think it through. That includes the soldiers. Suddenly, they weren’t soldiers anymore. Hell, most of them were our age!

           Turns out, this catastrophe became a trigger for more rallies. Pretty soon, there were calls across the nation to protest the war. It took a few years, and mostly because Nixon stepped down, but we got out of Vietnam. Hate to say it, but I was just as guilty as a lot of youths back then of berating the soldiers coming back from there. “Baby killers” we called them, among other names. We had no idea what they had gone through over there. As the years went by, yeah we learned, alright. We learned that we had alienated our military. We learned that we had turned our back on a lot of our very own generation. We learned, as we began to see the scarring left on those guys. So many crippled, sometimes openly, sometimes not.

           They say the nation lost its innocence in the Sixties. And you know, that’s somewhat true. But not completely. Even as late as 1969, we didn’t question the office of the President too much. The government in general, oh for sure. What do you think spawned Woodstock? But, the President was still our leader and we didn’t investigate him much. At least, not until this. You see, when troops are ordered to fire on their own, those orders are ultimately the responsibility of the President. He may not have given the order. But, he is responsible for the people put into leadership positions, by appointing those he knows will follow his orders.

           No, we didn’t “lose” our innocence in the Sixties. It was dented, yes. But, when Kent State happened...and then Watergate happened…that’s when we truly lost our innocence as a nation. When we were able to question the office of the President. When we were able to question the integrity of the President, and see that the man was just that. A flawed, crooked man. That’s when we lost our innocence as a nation.

           I’m a lot older now. Turned 72 last month, as a matter of fact. I’ve seen a lot of things, done a lot of things. One of my grandsons enlisted in the Navy last year. I couldn’t have been prouder of him. Come a long way from ridiculing the military as a young man. Now, when I think of back then, it isn’t my friends from high school or college I remember, or the parties that seemed so important at the time. No, it’s people like Allison and William I remember. The faces of some of those Guardsmen, when they realized what they’d done. The ones that we lost back then, that never got a chance to see their children grow up, or to even have children. The ones that never knew what it was like to lose their innocence.