Forty years ago in 1970 began what a lot of us called the "Days of May." It was the most massive student strike in US history. Frustration over years of war, racism and repression boiled over when President Nixon ordered the US invasion of neutral Cambodia on April 30, 1970.
On May 1, campuses around the nation rose up in mass demonstrations. There was widespread vandalism of Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC) facilities as well as other symbols of the military. Thousands of police and soldiers were sent to US campuses to try and break the strike and crush the demonstrations.
On May 4, Ohio National Guard troops opened fire on an unarmed crowd of students, killing 4 and wounding 9 others. John Filo snapped that iconic photo of a young Mary Ann Vecchio weeping over the bleeding body of the dead Jeffrey Miller.
All of the victims were white. Black and brown students across the country contemplated what it meant when the government was now openly murdering white students on national television.
I had graduated from the University of Maryland at College Park(UM) in 1969, but of course returned for the May demonstrations. As a member of Students for a Democratic Society, I had taken part in a number of small spirited protests, but was totally unprepared for the massive turn-out during the Days of May. The shootings at Kent State had not intimidated the University of Maryland community. If anything, Kent State had made people even more determined.
We occupied US Route 1 next to the UM campus in protest of the war and were met by teargas, police clubs and arrests. A graduate student was shot and wounded on the first day, but there was no more gunfire after that.
There were huge meetings on campus and a strike committee was organized. The offices of the Air Force ROTC were trashed, some uniforms were burned and some windows were broken, but there was no initially no widespread property destruction at UM.
That changed two weeks into the strike.
The night of May 14, 1970 was the most violent night of the 1970 College Park demonstrations. It would have been a lot more destructive but for the raw courage of one college professor.
Although I never discussed this with people, I had an aversion to throwing rocks at the police. Despite the violence around me, I didn't really want to physically hurt anyone. So I contented myself with tossing back teargas bombs and dodging club wielding cops.
My dad had been involved with a granite workers' strike during the Great Depression and gave me some friendly advice about how hot a teargas bomb was and to never pick one up with my bare hands. I started bringing workgloves to demonstrations along with a water soaked bandana and a canteen. Besides helping keep teargas out of my lungs, the bandana also hid my face when I pulled it up over my mouth. That outfit became a radical fashion statement at UM rallies.
It generally worked out OK except for the one time I picked up an unexploded teargas grenade and it blew up in my hand. I woke up a few moments later with my face and lungs in burning choking agony and two brave people dragging me by the arms to safety. I didn't know them, but who ever you were....hey, thanks.
Governor Mandel had mobilized the National Guard who occupied the campus and instituted a defacto martial law. It was ironic, because we all knew that the reason many people joined the Guard was because they didn't want to fight in the unpopular Viet Nam War. I was sorry to see them. They were probably even sorrier being there.
The exchanges of teargas bombs and rocks were the fiercest I had ever seen. People were determined to hold on to their piece of liberated Maryland even in the face of a military occupation. National Guard Commander Warfield's helicopter flew overhead and added a further surreal menace to the whole scene. We always referred to him as "General Warfare", but in defense of the man, he never ordered his soldiers to open fire on us.
We grouped on the hill in front of the Chapel. It was dark and hard to see how many people were holding out, but it seemed like thousands. The crowd ebbed and flowed depending on how many teargas bombs were fired by the National Guard and police from the base of the hill near Route 1.
A few of us decided to go over to the administration building to see if anything was happening over there. On the way over, we spotted a state cop in full riot gear trying to hide by what was then the Home Economics building. Knowing that he was armed, we approached him cautiously and suggested that he get the fuck out of there ASAP. Clearly frightened and outnumbered, he made hand gestures signaling his non-aggressive intentions and hastily made his way back down the hill where the other cops were gathered.
We could hear shouting and the crash of breaking glass from around the Administration buildings. People were smashing windows with pieces of bricks they had dug up from around the flagpoles. The office of University President Elkins was singled out for special attention. There were no cops anywhere in the area.
Then the doors of the Main Administration building opened and people rushed up the stairs. Protesters had gotten inside and invited people to join them. Through a broken window? By forcing a door? I don't really know. Soon they were trashing furniture and other breakable items. Portraits of famous Marylanders were tossed out of the doors.
Then out of the darkness, a Volkswagon bug came to a screeching halt at the stop sign in front of the Main Admin building.
An arm emerged from the passenger side holding a can of gasoline. The can was quickly snatched away and several people ran up the steps. It all happened very fast. There was shouting from inside the Main Administration Building as people exited the lobby doors and ran down the steps. The lobby of the building exploded into sheets of flame. "Omigod!" I thought to myself, "What if someone is trapped inside?" It looked like the whole place would burn to the ground without a cop or firefighter in sight.
Unexpectedly, a single figure ran up the steps toward the now burning lobby. It was the chemistry professor Ed Beall. I didn't know Ed well, but he had a reputation for being anti-war and a strong opponent of the university administration. He was yelling over and over again as he ran," What are you doing? What are you doing?"
I couldn't believe it. Ed was running into the flames and risking his life to put out the fire. I guess he must have grabbed a fire extinguisher or something, because the blaze soon subsided. He was joined by others in his efforts. No one tried to stop him or rekindle fire.
During the few minutes of the inferno, I had stood paralyzed by an undefinable mix of conflicting emotions. My country was busy burning people alive with napalm dropped by US Air Force planes on Southeast Asia. The people of Southeast Asia had never attacked the USA or threatened our nation in any way. However, burning down the Admin building was not going to stop the barbarism of our war on SE Asia. I thought coldly to myself, "The Air Force ROTC building is nearby, if they want to reduce something to ashes, that would be a better choice."
I turned to an animated discussion happening nearby. Several people wanted to go around the campus and burn down other buildings. Although I was pumped with fear and adrenaline, I stayed calm and helped talk them out of it by explaining that we would need those buildings as part of our new liberated zone. That seemed to satisfy them and there were no more attempts at arson that night.
No one was badly hurt or killed that night at College Park and actual fire damage was minimal. What we didn't know was that hundreds of miles away at historically black Jackson State University, the Mississippi cops were firing hundreds of rounds at a women's dorm. When the shooting ended, two students were dead and 20 wounded. Compared to that, we got off easy.
You might think the Administration gave Ed Beall a medal for risking his life above and beyond the call of duty for a chemistry professor. But no, Ed was subjected to official harassment and repression that went on for years.
It was typical of the university presidency of Wilson Elkins. Elkins was a leftover from the bad old days of Jim Crow and rightwing militarism. Even someone who saved his office and his building from total destruction would feel his wrath. I suppose the cynical old cliche about "No good deed goes unpunished" was proven once again.