The helpless instruments of blind chance
Chapter 7: The helpless instruments of blind chance
Setting: Daniel has made it through his senior year without Elizabeth. He is planning to enlist in the Air Force when he graduates in a few weeks. But then he heard that Elizabeth broke up with that guy she was dating, so he plans a trip to her house with Peterson to win her back. But when he gets to Kent, Ohio, her mother said he has not broken up with Jeffrey. In fact, she got married this weekend. Daniel is devastated, but Peterson convinces him they should go the Kent State campus to meet some girls Peterson is sure will make their trip unforgettable. But it is May 4, 1970, and what awaits them on campus is much more unforgettable than either of them ever imagined.
KENT STATE UNIVERSITY, MAY 4, 1970. “Come on, man. This is your final semester of college. You gonna let the Ice Queen be the last thing you remember about Kent? It's a perfect spring day. For once in your life, Robinson, try to have some fun. It'll be like a graduation present. What do you say? You in?”
I didn't answer or even look at him. All I heard was Mrs. Johnson. She's on her honeymoon with Jeffrey.
Peterson took my silence as a yes and turned the car around and drove east on Main Street toward the university. We were going through the bar district downtown when we saw it. The sidewalks were filled with broken glass, debris and piles of rubbish. Every building on both sides of the street was damaged. Most of the windows were covered with plywood. Some buildings looked burned. Cops were everywhere.
“Look at that sign, Peterson!” I pointed toward an official looking poster on the front of a building. “Martial law! What the hell happened here?”
He only frowned.
We crossed the Cuyahoga River slowly, still staring all around, heading east toward the campus. “Don't worry about it,” Peterson said. “Probably a party that got out of hand. Just look for Prentice Drive. There's got to be a phone in one of those buildings.”
It was nearly noon. I expected to see the campus filled with students walking to class, not soldiers lined up everywhere. On the edge of the Commons we saw maybe a hundred of them climb out of huge Army trucks parked in front of a burning pile of rubble.
“That's the Ohio National Guard!” Peterson stared all around as he drove slowly down the street. “And I think that's the ROTC building they’re guarding, or it was the ROTC building.”
Dark, foul smoke drifted toward us from the huge smoldering pile of blackened beams, twisted metal and broken glass. It quickly surrounded us, and the car was soon filled with that acrid smell. Frantically rubbing my raw, burning eyes, I still couldn’t see anything. And now my lungs were on fire! “God, Peterson, I can’t breathe!” Coughing hard, he slammed on the brakes and rubbed his red eyes. “What the hell happened here?”
For once, I saw fear in his face... and that scared me. But I couldn’t look away from that line of soldiers forming in front of us.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Peterson called out the window to a student running by.
“We're protestin' the fuckin' war in Vietnam, man.” He waved his arms, hollering back at us. Peterson jammed the car in gear and quickly caught up with him.
“What about the ROTC building?” he called again, this time much louder. “What happened to it?”
The protester stopped running, pointed at the smoking debris, and smiled. “We burned it down, man. The Army got no fuckin' business on our campus.”
“But the National Guard...?”
“Fuck 'em! And fuck the war in Vietnam!” he shouted, running now toward a crowd forming on the Commons.
“I gotta see what's going on,” Peterson said, his eyes wide with excitement. He quickly steered the car into a parking spot and jumped out.
I didn’t know what to do, so I ran after him toward the Commons.
“God, Peterson! There must be a thousand people here!”
Suddenly a jeep drove from behind a line of soldiers, moving slowly across the Commons toward a large group of students. “You are ordered to disperse! You must leave the area immediately!” a soldier in the Jeep declared over a bullhorn.
No one moved. Instead they all chanted, “Pigs off campus!”
“You are ordered to disperse!” the soldier announced again.
The crowd moved forward and chanted even louder. “Pigs off campus!” Several protesters threw rocks.
Someone barked a command. Soldiers quickly formed several lines, then began marching right past Peterson and me.
“Did you see that?” I called over the noise.
“What?”
“Look at their uniforms. They've got their names covered. Why'd they do that?”
“Beats me. All I see is they got guns!”
“What's that mean?”
“It means they're expecting a war!” Peterson yelled back as we muscled our way through the crowd.
The protesters shouted louder, throwing more rocks.
Another command rang over the bullhorn, followed by several rounds of tear gas. Then screams burst from the crowd.
“What the hell's happening?” I called out, but Peterson didn't hear me. He pushed his way through the crowd, away from the gas now enveloping us. I ran to catch up with him, but the gas flooded my eyes. My throat burned, choking me.
“We gotta get away from these crazy hippies,” I heard him yell from somewhere. “Follow me....”
But where? I couldn’t see him in the crowd!
Rubbing my eyes, I thought I saw him for a second about twenty feet ahead of me, pointing toward a building at the top of the hill. I tried to call out, but my throat stung too much. All I could do was stumble after him.
“You are ordered to disperse!” the soldier in the Jeep barked again.
The protesters around me shoved forward, then flung more rocks. Some even grabbed the gas canisters and threw them back at the soldiers. Louder chanting rose from every direction. “PIGS OFF CAMPUS! PIGS OFF CAMPUS!”
The noise was deafening! Blinded by the gas, I tried to get away, but the crowd swept wildly around me. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm, pulling me back. It was Peterson!
“I can’t see—the gas!” I tried to tell him over the maddening noise, but my throat hurt too much.
“We gotta get outta here!” he shouted in my ear, leading me across the parking lot toward some building. The crowd surged around again. They pushed us left, then pulled us right, then pushed us left again. We couldn’t move! Someone rammed into me from behind. I fell down, as the mob pressed in on me from all sides. Elbowing a guy in front of me, I clawed back to my feet. But I lost sight of Peterson again! Where the hell is he? I rubbed my eyes, frantically looking everywhere.
That's when I saw that kid, maybe ten feet in front of me. He didn't look any more than fifteen, but he was jumping up and down and screaming at the soldiers, “Pigs off campus! “Pigs off campus!” He was wearing a red cowboy shirt—the kind Billy always wore, and I froze. More people bumped into me from behind, knocking me left and right again. But I just stood there, transfixed by what I thought was my kid brother in the middle of all this madness.
Suddenly a gas canister hissed through the air and landed beside me. There were more screams! The crowd surged in from every direction. I was tossed back and forth in a wave of seething rage. I can’t see! I can’t breathe! Please, God, get me away from all these crazy hippies… but I couldn’t take my eyes off that kid.
Without any warning, the soldiers suddenly turned, marching away from us. The crowd, pounded after them, sounding a victory chant, “Pigs off campus! Pigs off campus!” They shoved me forward, right next to that kid. He turned, saying something I couldn’t hear. I stood there, staring at Billy.
“Wait for me, Daniel,” he called from somewhere behind me. But I ignored him and pedaled after Frankie.
“I told you get outta the fuckin’ way. Now look what you done!” The old man jerked him up by his arm and there was that god-awful sound when he broke it.
I saw him walking out the door with those two welfare people…wearing that stupid red cowboy shirt.
“Pigs off campus!” blasted in my ears again. I shook my head, looking up just as the soldiers reached the top of the hill. Suddenly, they pivoted toward us. They’re coming back. I have to run! But I couldn't move in the crowd. I’m trapped!
The soldiers stood there for just a second. Oh, God! They’re pointing their rifles at us! The wind shifted. Tear gas blew all around me again. Out of nowhere, a single shot screamed out! A god-awful silence followed for maybe two seconds, maybe a minute. It seemed like forever. That horrid sound hung in the air.
Then more shots—dozens of them—shattered the silence. Almost with one voice, the people around me cried out with this anguished wail. Everyone stampeded in all directions. Some got knocked down, others stepped on. A burly, bearded guy slammed into me with his shoulder. I’m going to die!
The gas cleared for a minute, as the crowd opened up around me. Dozens laying everywhere, screaming, crying…and some of them... weren’t moving. I saw that kid again... just two feet away... on the ground with more blood around him than I ever thought possible. It ran from a gaping wound in his head, across the parking lot to the curb.
His face is gone! All that was left was a bloody, unrecognizable mass of flesh and bone and brains!
I couldn't think. I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't move. Someone grabbed my arm, spun me around and yanked me away from that sickening sight.
“Robinson, you okay? God, you got blood all over you! You hit?”
I couldn't answer. All I saw was Billy—no, not Billy! That kid in the cowboy shirt with his blood and brains splattered all over me.
“Robinson! For God's sake! We've got to get the hell out of here!” He yanked my arm again.
I shook my head. I had to wake up from this nightmare. “Peterson?”
“Run, dammit! Run!” He dragged me away from that horrid sight in front of me. We ran back to the car, through the terrified students, through the tear gas still clouding the air, through the bodies all over the Commons. Peterson slammed the car into gear, floored the gas pedal and careened through the parking lot. I had no words. What I saw, what I felt, how scared I was—there was no describing any of it. I’d been in hell, and I was never coming out again.
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