In the Spring 1998 issue of Traditions, UConn's alumni magazine,
we asked alumni for their remembrances of 1968, the year, as
William Manchester wrote, "everything went wrong." What follows
are the memories of those who replied to that request, woven
with some of the major events in the world and on campus during
that turbulent year.
As the 1968 spring semester began, Americans learned the U.S.S.
Pueblo, with a crew of 83, had been seized by North Korea. Students
returning to Storrs learned that Dennis Hampton, editor-in-chief
of the Connecticut Daily Campus, had arrived safely in Saigon.
Hampton, on special assignment, was in the capitol city of South
Vietnam just three days before the celebration of Tet, the lunar
New Year observance. U.S. troops expected a quiet day - instead
they faced the beginning of a North Vietnamese offensive that
cost lives and drastically altered views of the war on the home
front.
For Thomas Evans, Storrs was a safe-haven from the war. He had
spent 1967 in a Marine Corps infantry platoon in Vietnam, his
time "spent in a bunker on a hill called Con Thien along the
DMZ, being bombarded by enemy artillery, rockets, and mortars."
Evans says "the transition from firefights to shaving cream
fights" took only a few short months, and he recalls an incident
early in the semester as he and four new friends talked one
evening.
"Our freshman dormitory complex, nicknamed the Jungle, was shaped
like a giant U with my dorm on one wing. Somebody set off a
string of firecrackers in the quadrangle outside. Because of
the shape of the complex, each firecracker explosion echoed
off the other buildings. It sounded just like an automatic weapon
to me, like the rapid fire of bullets smacking into a rice paddy
dike in Vietnam, so I dove to the floor. The other four freshmen
stared at me, wondering what my problem was."
The shocks continue
With the Tet offensive, sentiment against the war rose at home
and the presidential fortunes of Lyndon B. Johnson fell. He
shocked the nation on March 31 when, after announcing a bombing
halt in Vietnam and proposing peace talks in Paris, he told
his fellow Americans that he would not seek his party's nomination
for a second term. It was one of many shocks to come - that
week. .
Tim Jerman, Class of 1970, recalls an event that came just days
after the Johnson address.
"My most vivid memory came in April when Martin Luther King
was shot; I can distinctly remember wandering out of my dorm
in a daze, wondering what was happening to the country."
That daze was felt by many, but soon it took a turn. In an awful
paradox, a unprecedented wave of civil unrest and violence swept
the nation in reaction to King's murder, even though the slain
civil rights leader was an outspoken pacifist. Rioting struck
125 cities, including Hartford and New Haven. The nation's Capitol
was ringed with barbed wire and combat troops.
On April 25, Becky Vail was named "Miss UConn" - but the sense
of the traditional was short-lived. The next day, 350 students
marched into administrative offices in Gulley Hall to protest
the war in Vietnam and racism in America. They called for a
student strike and, among other things, for the Board of Trustees
and UCONN President Homer Babbidge to issue statements in opposition
to the war, give financial support to Hartford inner-city schools,
and create an "urban semester."
In May, Bruce Miner '67, recalls that he came to campus to take
care of some unfinished business. He had completed degree requirements
in August 1967 and was supposed to attend commencement on May
23, the date for his induction into the armed services. He came
to Storrs to provide proof of the scheduling conflict in order
to receive his
degree.
"There was a table set up by the 'Students for RFK.' Behind
that table, getting signatures for campaign volunteers, was
the prettiest girl I had ever seen at UConn. She was wearing
a white straw hat with an RFK campaign sticker on the front.
She had a celestial look about her, light brown hair, beautiful
eyes. She seemed very sincere.
"A few weeks later, as our platoon was forming up under the
red sky of morning, our platoon sergeant, a veteran of two combat
tours in Vietnam, told us 'I'm a sad man today - they killed
Robert Kennedy.' He was crying as he spoke his words. We were
numb as he marched us away to the barracks. I was reminded how
my parents cried when JFK was killed, and thought about how
they were feeling on this day. I thought of the girl at UConn.
How far away she seemed."
Minor sums up that year the way many that lived through
it might: "For me, 1968 was a year of missed opportunities and
a deep sense of personal loss."
|
State troopers in riot gear faced students protesting interviews
held by Olin Mathieson, another military contractor, on November
26. This time there was some violence, and the Daily Campus
carried a photo of at least one student bloodied during a clash
with police.
It isn't the violence, though, that one alumna recalls of the
many protests. "Hopefully my memory is correct on the year,"
says Dana Morvak (Abrams) '72. "I recall standing outside Gulley
Hall, at night, in the winter, and the students were very cold.
President Babbidge ordered that the students be served hot chocolate
to keep us warm. It struck me that here we were, striking the
University, and we were being catered to," Morvak says.
The countless anti-war protests across the nation that year
are also remembered by Col. John A. Anderson, '54, who was
at the mid-point of his career in the U.S. Army. Now retired,
Anderson was assigned to an Army research unit at the Pentagon.
Anderson and his wife hosted his sister-in-law and several college
friends who had come to Washington for an anti-war demonstration.
The debating began as soon as Anderson picked up the group of
protestors at Union Station.
"While en route to our house, I gave them a trip around the
Pentagon and a tour of its parking lots. They were not impressed
with this pro-war demon chauffeur," says Anderson. "Later that
evening amid the beer and, perhaps, some mary jane, Cathy and
her friends and I had some interesting discussions — no minds
were changed, but the discussions were interesting and lively.
The group was particularly impressed with my comment that, like
Voltaire, 'I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend
with my life your right to say it.'"
Nixon elected, moon within reach
Richard Nixon was elected president that November in one of
the closest elections in U.S. history. Vice President Hubert
Humphrey, the Democratic candidate, could not overcome his association
with the Johnson administration's discredited war policies,
nor the violence between protesters and police that swept through
Chicago during the Democratic National Convention in August.
On December 22, the surviving 82 members of the Pueblo crew
were released by North Korea and headed home. And as America
and the world headed toward 1969, the crew of Apollo 8 circled
the moon, sending greetings and a look back at what appeared
to be a peaceful, good earth. That achievement in space,
and especially one to come the following July, is in the memory
of Normand Beauregard '51, who was a contracting officer for
NASA.
"During the last quarter of 1968 the ongoing work on Apollo
lunar suits and backpacks was reaching a critical phase at the
Manned Spacecraft Center in Houston for a July 1969 lunar landing.
A high level of intensive procurement and contract management
activity was necessary," says Beauregard. "I couldn't have been
more challenged or motivated. The rest is history. I feel gratified
for making a small contribution to the program.
"Your subject question made me reflect, at age 70, on that intense
period of history."
Mark J. Roy |
