May 4, 1970, began like any other school day for me: A ride
on the yellow Blue Bird bus driven my Mr. Stickel, “Reflections of My Life” by
Marmalade playing on the bus radio set to WLS. Arrival at school and the day of
classes. And then during lunch sometime around 1:15 PM I heard a news report on
WCMR, which seemed to be the favored station of the kitchen folk, that four
students had been killed in an anti-war protest at Kent State University
Watching the national news later that day and grasping more
of the total situation, I was even more disrupted.
May 4, 1970, Kent
State
At age fourteen I asked my history teacher the next day, Mr. Cassel , “Is this a serious oath they take or merely a
formality?”
Yes, for me, May 4 was a national existential crisis. I was
challenged in my conviction that the Constitution was the inviolable national
contract. This contract, with its First Amendment, surely guaranteed protest, assembly,
a speaking of the mind, especially on a public campus such as Kent State
Of course a youngster of fourteen would not have the fuller
perspective of an adult who has lived the realities of life. I did not, at that
time, know the more specific military oath of office which requires obedience
to orders given. But surely, these college campus students could not be seen as
“domestic threats” to the Constitution. The worst threat that they could have
been was as an embarrassment to Kent
State
I imagine there are other events which hold the same
traumatic effect of national crisis to other people. I lived through the Detroit
But this cognitive conflict I experienced on that day in 1970
formed and shaped my sense of ethics. I assert when one takes an oath, it is
not a mere formality nor is it a dotting and crossing of organizational “i”
sand “t”s; it is a deliberate and earnest action of personal identity and
integrity.
But perhaps it is even more than recognizing a national
contract. Perhaps it runs more deeply.
My son, Eric, in critique of this memoir said it well in
conclusion…
“It is a
problem larger than a legal document or an oath of adherence to it. It is
a loss of faith in the ability of human beings to remove themselves from the
moment and to do what is right and be good to one another.”
 |
| Jeffrey Miller |
 |
| Allison Krause |
Every May 4 I remember the names of Allison Krause and Jeffrey Miller, Sandra Scheuer and William Knox Schroeder. Whether protesting or merely walking to class, the
day, the month, and the following decades should have turned out differently
for them and their families.
There is a phrase chiseled into the grave stone for Allison
Krause. It was a phrase she spoke just the day before…
“Flowers are better than bullets”.
On May 4th this year, in honor of Allison and the
others, enjoy a flower, deliver one to a friend, wear one. Today let us
practice “to do what is right and be good to one
another.”
 |
| Sandra Scheuer |
 |
| William Schroeder |
