Where Were You in the 1960's
The 60's was a decade unlike most others in American history.
The assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy, and Martin Luther King sent shock waves not only through the United States, but around the world.
Vietnam was ripping American apart and many of young people were dying in a useless war that brought down a president.
Jim Crow, segregation, the Civil Right marches. Each in it's own a huge part of our history. Together a generation frozen in time.
Bloody battles fought on the streets and universities of America, pitting American against American. The race riots of the 60's, cities burning, Americans picking sides. Black, White, Brown and Red...Who's side were you on. The school killing of black students by the Police in South Carolina, The Orangeburg Massacre when the Highway Patrol opened fire on 200 unarmed black university students, killing three and wounding a dozen or more.
In Vietnam young Americans dying in droves, names that how seem like ancient history. Hue, Kae Sanh, Hamburger Hill, Tet. Ia Drang (Death Valley), My Lai Massacre. To many of us that history was yesterday, never to be forgotten.
The first war American fought it that was televised. The nightly news showed us the body bags coming back to American soil. It also showed us American cities burning and Americans battling each other in the streets. Young people, now mostly retired if they lived, were changing American.
Yet amid all the this strife some good things were happening. The Civil Right Act. The Voting Rights Act and freedoms that some Americans paid for with their lives.
Organizations formed that were both for and against what was happening. The Black Panthers, American Indian Movement (AIM). groups such as the SLA and Weathermen because household names.
Could American survive the 60's...It did, but rolling into the 70's the times were just as turbulent. Nixon, Wounded Knee, Kent State.
I spent 24 of those months in Vietnam, survived and returned home to chaos. I marched for civil rights and became an early member of the American Indian Movement. There were a few times when I wasn't sure if I was back in Nam or in the U.S. They were dangerous times for many of us that were bucking the establishment.
What were you doing in the 1960's...Tell us your story.
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A/noon Kavika..I was born in 1960 and the 2 things that I remember most about the early 60's are related to the States....The first time 1963..my mum was crying at the kitchen sink and that scared me..Asked what was wrong??? She said a man in the USA had been shot, he was a great man called a President and it was a total shock that echoed around the world...I did not understand what she meant but I remember that very well....Then again 1968 my mum was crying again and being older this time understood when she said his brother had also been shot...That sticks in my mind as up until those 2 times I had never seen my mum cry...The 1960's were the best years out..the freedom and riding our bikes for miles..Going blackberrying, mushrooming, catching tadpoles, home when the streetlights came on....Glad I lived it all....I did not know that much about the Vietnam war etc as we did not get TV until I was 14...
Those were two traumatic events that echoed worldwide.
Idyllic.
I remember we had an air raid drill that morning where we all had to get under our desks and pray for forgiveness for our "sins"
in case the drill was wasn't a drill and we were going to heaven in the next 90 seconds.......
Shortly after that disappointment, we were sent home due to a tragedy that Sister Mary Twelvefingers could not articulate,
and several of the weeping teachers told us that our parents would explain it but my Mom too, was in shock,
and glued to the TV.
By the time my Dad got home and forbade me to watch the TV, I pretty much knew as much as any of us needed to know about that sorry day,
and ended up watching enough TV that week to see Jack Ruby kill Oswald on live TV.
After King was killed in April 68, I was not phased when Robert Kennedy was killed in June the same year.
As a high schooler already registered with the draft board, I was already numb.
Yes, for those of us who preceded video games and cellphones, which seem to have taken the place of those idyllic experiences.
I watched it live as well.
Each of their deaths had a effect on me, but MLK probably the greatest since i was deeply invovled in the Civil Rights movement at the time.
Seperated by a dateline, an equater, and a change in water swirl...and with the exception of the TV, identical childhoods.
I remember exactly where I was when I heard about the deaths of the Kennedy brothers, Martin King, Janice, Jimi, Mama Cass, Sharon Tate, Brian Jones, etc. Famous deaths are memorable.
I was too young to know what was going on since I was born in 62. Of course I knew about Vietnam since my cousins were over there, but really didn't understand it, and I do vaguely remember seeing it on tv.
So you're just a kid, lady. Well not a kid but a younger person...
Same here, bout the only thing of importance I remember from the 60's was the moon landing
You missed one hell of a decade.
Lol couldn't be helped
Used to work for NASA way after the fact of the moon landing. I loved JFK!
I was a kid in the 60s. I remember wanting to be a hippie but my mom said I couldn't. I remember that as a teenager in the early 70s I was terrified that they were going to draft me and send me to Nam to die but I got lucky. They ended the draft when I was 16.
Real hippies didn't much care for what mom said.
One of my few regrets is that I didn't make it to Woodstock (was in reform school at the time).
Being in reform schools beat being in Vietnam.
They gave me the option. I chose reform school over Nam.
What year was that? Popular perception was changing so fast.
1969 I was sleeping with Grace Slick back then.
Oh, yeah!
A lot of us were doing that....
I was 10.
We're the same age. I was born in February, 1962 so I was alive for the Cuban Missile Crisis but seeing as how I was still drooling, I don't know anything about it. I do know my father got called up for his physical for the draft.
My dad's younger brothers all went to Vietnam. Three of them were drafted and the youngest enlisted. They don't talk much about it.
There was a riot in our school cafeteria sometime in 1969 or 1970, but I don't know what started it. Maybe it was the Pirates beating the Orioles in the World Series?
The video reminds me, and probably Kavika, of what we were going through in the 60's. Was a young Marine coming home from 'Nam in '65 - landed in San Fran to be bused to El Toro for paperwork to take 30 days leave before reporting to my next duty station - MCAS El Toro. Going to our buses, a crowd of 'bout 100+ started harassing us by yelling, throwing cabbage, eggs and any other trash they could find. Cops on the corner just turned their backs, even when we were being "trashed". Our Gunny's ensured we got on the buses to keep us from busting rank and pounding the pathetic marchers.
Volunteered to go back to 'Nam in '67 'cause Dad heard rumors that he was getting ready to get orders. At that time, DoD wouldn't allow more than one family member over there at a time. My thoughts were that if something happened to me, the family could go on. But, if it happened to Dad, it would probably tear the family apart.
Came back and was discharged in '68 - total of two tours 27 months. Got home to MS where Dad had retired and started applying for jobs. Three potential employers refused to hire me 'cause I was a "Marine Baby-killer" - they even put it on the referral sheet that I took to the Unemployment office.
Welcome home.
Yeah, it was pretty shitty coming home. I didn't get it that bad, but getting a job as a longshoreman in the LA/LB harbor was a life saver for me.
Welcome home, Silent Eagle.
Waanakiwin (peace)
I hear you. I remember coming back to the world from overseas in late 73. I was wearing my Navy dress blue uniform walking through LAX to catch a flight to Tucson when a young kid with greasy long hair spit on me and tried to kick me calling me a "war mongering baby killer". The worthless little puke ignored or failed to notice the medical cadeuce emblem on my upper sleeve. I tried to tell him I was in the medical field. His answer was, " Doesn't make a difference. You were still there." I laughed at him and walked away. We grew up real fast in those days...
We sure did. This is a quote that I have on my desk....''Innocence is the first casualty of war''....
Best song ever.
The year 1968.
As I was born in the month of January, I was 12 years old for much of that year.
What do i remember?
Really, a lot of frivolous things...and some dead serious things.
My head has always been wrapped around motorsports. Only one thing captured my interest sooner. That was marksmanship. I learned marksmanship before I was old enough to attend school.
1968 saw the rise of the Roger Penske/Mark Donahue Z/2 Camaros overthrow the Mustangs and Cougars of the Gurney and Shelby teams in the Trans Am series.
Can Am saw the establishment of one of the most dominant teams in motorsports history. "The Bruce and Denny" show of Team McLaren. Two determined and self made Kiwis. Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme.
I stumbled across a hidden talent. I was a damn good wrestler and went on a streak of several years without a single loss. The last couple of years against people 100lbs and more than me. Many years later, the first time I saw Alexandr Karelin wrestle, I re-assessed my prowess. LOL. Look him up on youtube and don't focus on his loss as an old guy.
I mentioned something about marksmanship. Yeah. That year, 1968 the kid across the street Joined the Navy because his dad had been a SeaBee in the Pacific.
The kid across the street and up a few doors had been drafted into the Army. What I remember most was, he couldn't shoot worth a shit. For real. He had no business being assigned to infantry. He sucked as a shooter. SUCKED.
When he returned from basic training the kid across the street, dad and I spent time with him, helping him learn to be comfortable shooting, Yes, 12 year old me. In a year I would become the family marksman and not against a bunch of weekend yahoos.
That kid was a mess. A week after shipping out, he was shipped back home. I've been called a bullshitting liar about that. Fuck that. Tell him. Maybe the Tet Offensive never happened then?
What a year.
I think I'm in love with you. Hope you're not a guy.
LOL, 100% certified guy.
Great.
I remember Dan Gables. He was a force. He was a good one to watch too. From what I recall, very good with balance and positioning.
I think the best learn that tipping point of where you over or under commit and cause your own demise.
Kind of like Karelin. He had a streak from something like '83 - '87. Then from '87 to '00.
One time he was asked what was his greatest opponent. He said his refrigerator.
He bear hugged it and carried it up 8 flights of steps when he had to move to city from his country Siberian cottage. He always kept a place there for part of his workouts and personal sanity.
Like all of us, we all have a patented move we invented, he invented the Karelin Lift. When you get caught in that, you are done.
I always wondered "how can you get out of that"? Well, one day I saw. Some guy tried it on him once. In the middle of him being lifted in the air, he reversed on the guy, mid air. WTF?
They came back down, he's on top and can't contain his laughter. The other guy just laid there, "okay, I'm done".
Too funny.
That's a good one.
I found a little bit of history on Karelin of the '87 - 00" stretch. It ends in his last match.
When he was young, his mom burned his wrestling uniform after a broken leg. He didn't quit.
LOL.
Funny.
He did a good job there.
Born in 67. The tail end of the decade so can't say much of anything really.
I do remember when I was young wanting to be a hippie.
Never really wanted to be a hippie but ended up as one.
Vietnam appears to be of big importance to Americans at that time, but I'm a Canadian, and my only contact was my relationship with the draft dodgers who had moved to Canada, two of whom were partners with me in opening the Toronto Folklore Centre. One was a folksinger and the other a guitar maker. Many of my best times were as a weekend hippie spending weekends at a hippie commune in the country, although I never experienced the elixir weed until the mid-60s. I was a fan of folk music, spent my time in coffee houses listening to and being friends with performers, many of whom became famous such as Joni Mitchell for whom I secured her first paying gig in Ontario, and one who was already an icon who had travelled with Woodie Guthrie, Ramblin' Jack Elliott, who stayed at my home whenever he performed in Toronto. I recall going to Greenwich Village to watch my friends Ian and Sylvia perform at The Bitter End, and staying over in Izzy Young's apartment above his iconic New York Folklore Center in the village, when he gave the girl I had travelled with the keys to the Folklore Centre to run it for the weekend because he went out of town. That was what gave me the notion to open a Folklore Centre. Performers would come and jam in the store, but I don't think we sold much except some guitar strings. The only thing I remember about his dingy apartment was the cockroaches in the bathtub. During those years I attended Folk Music Festivals, such as Newport, where I saw Bob Dylan get booed off the stage for going electric, The Philadelphia Folk Festival twice (where I got my first taste of the elixir), The Smithsonian Festival of American Folklife in Washington DC. I was one of the persons running Canada's most famous Folk Music Festivals, the Mariposa Folk Festival (which is where I met Alanis Obomsawin), and in between I actually practised law and travelled a lot, in America, Bermuda, Europe and North Africa. Maybe because I never married until the early 70s I spent a lot of time in my darkroom developing photos, because my hobby has always been photography. I'm sorry I brought so few photos with me of my life during that time, the rest being in storage in Toronto.
And that is only a PART of the story.
That was one hell of a part though.
Thanks for sharing. Some of us pull a trigger for a living.
There is nothing wrong with that.
As I was born in '58 and I grew up in a very small mid-west town I missed a lot of the early 60's. It required something of great magnitude to make it into my world back then. About the earliest memory of significance I have was when Kennedy was shot. Mostly what I remember from that time was that I was upset as I had been watching some inane show on TV and Cronkite broke in with news, and I remember my mother crying about the news. Was still too young to really understand what it was but I knew it was something terrible.
The next memory I remember very will was watching the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show. If I remember correctly, at 6pm was the Wonderful World of Disney and 7pm was the Ed Sullivan Show. Haven't a clue what came on at 8 as my folks would never let me stay up past that.
The Vietnam War took up so much of the early 60's with reporting from everywhere on this, and all the protesting and riots because of it. As I was in small town mid-America, the general attitude was that the riots were wrong and those young people should shut up and sit down. Ahhh, small town attitudes.. And that general attitude never seemed to go away even when young men from the area died over there.
And the joy of the Green Bay Packers winning what would later be known as Super Bowl 1 and 2. Great times that.. How could you not live in Wisconsin in those years and not be on top of the world regardless of what else was happening in the world.
I remember much more from the second half of the 60's, but that's to be expected. Watched the first moon landing as it happened. So much of that time helped to make me who I am, even with the protected environment I grew up in.
Upper midwest and cold country...Bart Starr, need I say more.
Already said too much - how 'bout Lenny Dawson?
GO CHIEFS!
I was born in 1960 and my parents moved from Brooklyn to Amityville, LI (yes that Amityville of both the horror and Jaws). By the time I entered elementary school, the race riots had started in that town. I didn't understand it, until my classmate, who was black, was murdered by being hit by a car, because her father who was a cabbie, used to drive me home a few times a week. It was something my parents tried to hide from me and I only learned about it years later when I was living in Wantagh. Her death was one of the reasons that my parents to move.
What a horrible thing to happen sister.
It actually had a life long effect on me.
Still live in the tiny town I was born in. As a paramedic had to call time of death for both mom and dad. Weird having to do that.
Everybody was looking at me and waiting for a decision as to continue cpr on dad. Hardest decision of my life.
I let my 86yo father die.
I'm sure you know that at that age, if he had been revived, it is unlikely that he'd have been revived without lasting effects from the cardiac arrest. I know it was a hard decision, but you did what you could at the time. It's terrible that the decision rested with you.
Thanks for that Sandy. As a paramedic I've had to watch a whole bunch of folk die that I couldn't save. But none of them were mom and dad. We knew that mom didn't have a chance. Were hoping that dad did.
I am the medical guy in the family. They look to me for this sort of thing.
That's terrible, Perrie.
In Chicago.
From grade school through most of HS. In the early years we lived in the hood, about 8 blocks north of the Cabrini Green projects. Used to walk the streets of Old Town, watched the artisans and the junkies. Saw my first dead person [overdose] when I was 9.
Spent the summers @ my great grandparents dairy farm in central Wisconsin and @ Lincoln Park.
Moved to the west side for my middle school years. Got into sports, on the track and swim team because of the huge park down the street and the President's All American Team.
At the start of HS we moved to Logan Square on the NW side, into a huge apartment. I went to the biggest HS in Chicago, 2000+ students. We had bussing, we rioted, had sit ins, and lost way too many of our guys to the draft and Nam. Too many funerals to count.
In 68, the year MLK was assassinated, some neighborhoods burned. We watched from the roof of our apartment building. Many of us participated in the 68 Grant Park riot @ the Democratic National convention. My dad was there too, he was a cop and he came out of it worse than I did. I had scraps and bruises, he had his uniform ripped and a broken nose.
Spent the summers @ Fullerton Beach where our school mascot [Bulldog] was painted on the rocks. That was our territory and as you walked up and down the beach, each HS had their territory too. I would ride my 10 speed to the beach every day in the summer and once a month or so all the way to the south side to see my grandparents and auntie.
Loved the story. Chicago is one of my favorite cities. Used to go there on business quite often and would make sure that I got to Morton's and then on to Rush St. loved the music.
One of my favorite video's is Robert Johnson, Sweet Home Chicago.
Morton's, the first place I ever went were you could order a steak 2" thick. My father's #1 fav.
The best steak in the world, IMO.
Morton's has a restaurant in Las Vegas and it's as good as the original.
My personal story in the 60's was one of travels & travails. I made some consequential decisions back then. I had the grades and the means to go to College, but I was of the mind not to go. Nobody could get through to me back then. I didn't even attend my high school graduation. I was both lucky and reckless. Getting out to Las Vegas was my priority. I got away with all my gambling & womanizing and I even dodged the bullet on Vietnam. In the early 70's the last draft was held based on date of birth. My birthday was in the 300's, I was never called.
Regrets - I have many.
Vic, life is what it is. We all makes mistakes/bad decisions but that is how we learn...I had some really bad times and some really good times and a lot somewhere in the middle.
I would have to say that my best moments were fighting for civil rights and being on the front line. It cost me, but hell yeah it was more than worth it.
My worst moment was falling head over heels in love for Carla in the 8th grade.
Carla was in love with my best friend.
I got my draft notice while I was in Navy Boot Camp in Orlando, Florida in 1973 after having enlisted on my own. One of the last ones sent out. I symbolically burned it in the barracks the night it was sent to me by my mother....
I still have my draft card framed on the wall.
I was born in 1956, I do remember Kennedy, both of them very well, I loved listening to John speak on TV and, I remember watching King during that time, my memory of him is one of protests in the south and, him being arrested for protesting. I think my biggest memory's of the time is the deaths of all three men, Bobby most of all since he was killed on my birthday, after that, celebrating my birthday didn't seem so great.
Miami, Florida was a good place to grow up then, Liberty City was still a nice place, kids could either ride their bikes across town or, take a city bus anywhere in Dade county, for the most part. Carol City, Opa Locka and, Hialeah were places I grew up, I moved to North Carolina during the seventh grade and, finished school there. As I've said before, I remember the "Whites Only" signs and, school segregation and, its end. Learning to waterski, swim, sail boat and, canoe at the lake were my father lived after he and, mom divorced. I remember the scare during the Cuban missile crisis, I was in Miami at the time and, it was really close to where the blockade was taking place, I remember military troops moving through the streets of Miami during that time and, the tension in my parents as it played out and, the relief they expressed when it was over.
Two hurricanes during that time in my life, both were a time of excitement for me, I wondered if our home would hold up, we rode it out at the house, bathtub full of water as well as the two sinks in the house and, bottled water as well, canned food incase the stores weren't possible to get to and, candles, lots of candles throughout the house. Then after the hurricanes going out and, looking at the damage they caused, in wonder, once an old oak tree was totally uprooted from its spot in the backyard, a giant of a thing and, it was gone, just gone.
I have two step-brothers that served in Vietnam, one an artillery officer the other a navigator on a bomber, they both came back whole, thank the lord for that, one continued to serve and, was at the Pentagon on 9/11, I think, he was a liaison officer there. The other went to college and, became a teacher, there he met his wife and, they moved to Texas to teach and, there they retired.
To me, all of the political and, other government things was always right in my face, my mother and, father were active politically until they died, they had many ideas and, ideals that were different from each other but, they both agreed on one thing, King was right about Civil Rights but, they thought he was going about it the wrong way, I never understood that, if people aren't protecting part of the population then it is up to that part of the population to protest that lack of protection until something is done about it.
I was a lover of the protest music during that time and, my heroes were wide and, ranged many groups during that time.
During the 60's I was into Judy Collins, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Peter, Paul, and Mary. That was real music to me...
For me it was Peter, Paul and, Mary, The Momma's and, the Papa's, Diana Ross and, the Supremes. I got into the "Hippie movies" when "Born Losers" came out.
I loved Easy Rider!
Me too. Except 1 thing was a distraction for me throughout the movie.
This goes back to my insufferable motor head logic. I have never been able to escape it.
The question "how are they traveling so far through the desert country with such tiny tanks and thirsty motors"?
I had to constantly put that out of my mind...
Watched Peter Fonda get his blown off just the other day in the Ballad of Lefty Brown.
I loved that one hooker they had, the one that seemed to always be on speed, the best case of overacting I've ever seen.
I'll be thinking of you next 6-6.
Thanks.
Thanks for the story Galen....I'm hopeful that your step brother survived 9/11 at the Pentagon.
He did, luckily for him he had other business that morning and, didn't get there until after the crash.
The Sixties was an awful, awful time. The children of the Sixties were taught they had no future.
As a child at the beginning of the decade, we were doing duck 'n cover drills which we quickly called 'mooning the Ruskies'. As a teenager at the end of the decade juvenile offenders were being sentenced to Viet Nam as punishment. We were taught to do as we were told and not ask questions.
The Sixties was my childhood. It was an awful time to be a child.
I don't know but, I guess I was young enough not to worry about it until I hit high school, luckily for me the draft ended 6 months before my 18th birthday and, the war ended before I graduated high school or, at least they weren't sending any more troops over there.
Kinda hard to ignore the glass topped aluminum boxes with a dead kid inside dressed in a blue & white BDE suit. I remember pudgy middle aged men in American Legion hats firing rifles at the graveside service. And the look of terror in my father's eyes.
I grew up in the sparsely populated corridor southwest of St. Louis. Our school was a ground target for F-100 Super Sabre fighters. Those planes would come over the treetops low and slow and we kids would wave our arms off. And the pilots would wave back. We were kids, we didn't know what was going on. It was only later that we understood the meaning of it all. And the meaning was meaningless.
I remember Kennedy's assassination; we were sent home early from school. Crying teachers, no explanations, and it was snowing. I was old enough to know the world had changed but also knew to do just as I was told and not ask questions.
Our sixth grade program was the Ballad of the Green Berets. Not long after one of my cousins was killed in a cemetery in Viet Nam. There weren't any Sunday gatherings of the extended family after that. I remember a very young kid Marine standing by that shiny box that no one spoke to. Some didn't want him there and he was not allowed to go to the graveside service. What I remember most was the grief and rage. My cousin was the only family member sacrificed for nothing. But there were other funerals for kids my parents knew but I didn't. Folded flags didn't seem to mean much.
When I reached high school, the school district began hiring Viet Nam vets. And those new teachers were dead set on preparing us for our turn. Phy Ed became boot camp; the only thing we lacked was rifles. The Ag teacher taught us how to respond to surprises; we'd be working on a project and he'd start banging an empty steel drum. Focus on task, stay on mission. Our history teacher had been a Navy Commander and he flat out told us that his purpose was to prepare us to survive.
No, when I grew up and where I grew up it was impossible to ignore. We were all made aware that our turn would come and we had to be ready.
As I said, it seemed that the Cuban missile crisis was closer to home for me since I grew up in Miami during that time, my step-brother one of them anyway, was stationed at Homestead after the bombings in Hanoi ended and, until he took the job at the Pentagon, no uniforms were worn at home, they were kept in the closet until the people who wore them returned to base. All of my family members who served came back whole and, alive, that is one thing I'm grateful for, I know plenty of kids whos dads, brothers and, uncles didn't return alive or, whole and, that has always bothered me to some extent.
My parents watched the news at night and, that was the closest I came to understanding what was going on over there. I remember the news on the Monks who killed themselves by setting themselves on fire, I remember the news footage of the girl who was shot while she was on her knees, I remember the Tet Offensive. My father didn't watch any of this in his house, it was all regular TV shows, I saw this at my Moms home since she had custody of us after their divorce. My Dad wasn't ignoring the war in Vietnam, it's that he would have flashbacks of WWII if he did watch the news.
We knew the war was going on and, we knew young men were dying over there, it's just that in Miami it was possible to ignore it, if you didn't watch the news or, attend funerals and, my parents never let us attend any funerals at that time. Two century's of my family fighting in wars was enough for my parents, they didn't want any more of us dying in wars, especially useless ones like Vietnam.
That is why the young people revolted and challenged everything. It was a difficult time but also a time, IMO, that changed the US history.
We weren't young people, we were children. The hippies were telling us what to do and not ask questions, too.
The burning question for my generation was "why can't we just get along?" The children of the Sixties had leisure suits and disco when they came of age. The children of the Sixties turned off, tuned out, and didn't give shit any more. There wasn't a future. Our music was Chicago, ELO, Pink Floyd, James Taylor, Neil Diamond, and the Captain & Tennille. The children of the Sixties learned to keep their head down, their mouth shut, and ignore everything.
The only elected President born after 1950 has been Barack Obama. Why is that? Obama was born in 1961, he is a child of the Sixties but came of age in the Seventies. Obama wasn't comfortable being a fighter; he preferred mellow and no drama. And what was the theme of Obama's Presidency? "Why can't we just get along?"
Yeah, the hippies made a lot of noise but really didn't change a thing in the end. The children of the Sixties are still expected to keep our heads down, keep our mouths shut, and do what we are told. It's too late to expect us to tune in and give a shit.
I have always felt and still do the the 60's with the counter culture, hippies, freedom riders, Civil rights fighters et al changed America for the good.
Without them fighting against the status quo (racism, segregation etc), Many of them died and or were injured in these fights, we may have taken decades more to gain equality.
Vietnam was a disaster for us, too many died and suffered life long drama because of it, and at the same time it all came together in a huge explosion in the US that brought change like we have never seen before.
Having been in Nam for two tours (24 months) I hitch hiked from Fort Ord CA to my home in MN. In Devils Lake ND I was refused service at a diner because I was Indian. (I was in uniform) and it turned into a brawl in which I ended up in jail, the other didn't since they were not Indian. It was there that I meet a man that would be a huge influence on me, Dennis Banks, Ojibwe Warrior. One of the original founders of the American Indian Movement (AIM) in a store front church in Indian Town, Minneapolis MN. 1968...So it's damn difficult to tell me, and have me buy, that the young people, teenagers, hippies and many others didn't change America. Did I agree with all of them, hell no I didn't. Where they always right, hell no, did they fight for what they believe in, hell yes.
I fought as many battles in the U.S. as a civilian as I did in Vietnam as a trooper. Both were personally costly for me, but actually fighting for equality in the country that I was born in was by far a bigger and more costly fight, but one that I'll never regret.
The hippies and counter culture warriors didn't make any sacrifices. That burden was placed on the children of the Sixties. My generation, as children of the Sixties, was expected to carry the burden of all past wrongs.
What happened to the American Indian in the past was our guilt. What happened to African-Americans in the past was our guilt. And the counter culture demanded that the children of the Sixties make the necessary sacrifices to answer for our guilt.
The children of the Sixties learned to turn off and tune out. We were fed a steady stream of angst and guilt as young adults. We really don't give a shit. We just go with the flow. We'll tell you anything you want to hear just to get you off our backs. That's why the Seventies is a lost decade. We're guilty as hell, that's what we were told. Other than that, we don't know and we don't care.
The 1970s: The Lost Decade
You know Kavika, in my young and frivolous years, due to the family situation, I did not even know what AIM was at the time.
Thanks to folks like you I am able to catch up on and better understand all the lost time.
Thank you.
Damn Nerm, You don't seem to understand the 60s or the 70s. Everybody but you was having fun.
Did a hippie drop you on the head when you were a kid?
What you're told is what you accept. Indian and black and other minorities were told for centuries that they were not worthy etc...If we went with the flow like you seem to be doing we'd still be in a hole looking up. If you chose not do know and not care that is all on you. Trying to blame another generation or multiple generation doesn't get it. It they were wrong, fine, do something about it. Don't like what your generation has become do something about it instead of whining.
I'd rather fight the battle and loose then not fight at all...
We call it, Hoka Hey (It's a good day to die)
Really sorry that you feel the way you do and even worse, accept it.
My childhood was pretty good. Somewhat isolated in small town Southwest on the AZ/Mexico border. However adulthood came too hard and fast. I've always thought it ironic that me and so many others were not old enough to vote or drink legally at home, but that did not stop the government and military from puttting guns in our hands and expect us to kill people if called on to do so....
Yep, the draft ended shortly before I was eligible, too. My selective service classification was 1-H; not needed. I could have made it to Nam in time for the glorious fall of Saigon.
The children of the Sixties had to carry the burden of Civil Rights. Our wars were the war on drugs and the war on poverty. The children of the Sixties represented the Crisis of Confidence that Jimmy Carter talked about. The hippies forced the children of the Sixties to make the sacrifices they demanded; the hippies didn't give up anything.
When the children of the Sixties came of age we had gas lines, Watergate, boat people, draft dodger amnesty, sky high inflation, and the Pinto & Vega. Remember the AMC Pacer and Gremlin? The United States had put a man on the moon during the Sixties and couldn't build automobiles in the Seventies. The Sixties sucked for my generation.
I loved the 60s. It was a great time to be a musician. I could pall around with everybody backstage.
Early 60s I was a so cal surfer. Mid 60s we were cruising Sunst Blvd, Rest of the 60s was military
great decade but also a tragic one
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I was born in '66 so no real memories that far back. My father was in the Navy and never home which led to their divorce in the early 70's.
In the early 60s I was still in High School. I was inspired by JFK and worked in his election campaign.
At one point we heard he was "whistle-stopping" in our county-- on a train, stopping at various towns. Some friends and I drove to a nearby town very early-- got to stand right at the edge of the railroad track, even though we thought it unlikely we'd get close enough to see him well. It was crowded.The car JFK was on stopped right next to us! I got to shake his hand. (The night before I had tried to think of what I'd say to him if I got near him, but in the moment when it actually happened I forgot my planned "words of wisdom"-- just shook his hand. looked him straight in the eye-- and said "Good Luck"
I have heard of "the human aura"- - an energy field that surrounds people which only some people can see. I had first read about it in High School which is when I began to study parapsychology, ,but was skeptical. Until I saw JFK up close-- he was definitely surrounded by a subtle aura. That was the only one of two times back then when I actually saw an aura (until recently when I started a course about those sorts of phenomena).
Then (still in the 60s) I went to college (UNC Chapel Hill, N.C.). One afternoon as I walked out of my dorm, I heard loud cheers coming from all 4 dorms in the quad. This sort of thing was common-- during home basketball games. But then I realized it was a weekday afternoon and no games were scheduled. I asked someone what had happened-- he said that the president (JFK) had been shot.
My first year was relatively quiet. I did all the things you're supposed to do in college--- seeing how much beer I could drink, acting stupid, and chasing girls.
And hours playing strategy board games, especially RISK!:
The game can be lengthy, requiring several hours to multiple days to finish.
Among other memories: someone had just got back from spending a summer in Europe. At a party they had a record (vinyl)-- a single. They said it was a new group from the U.K. still unknown in the U.S. It was the Beatles-- "I wanna Hold Your Hand". (I forgot what was side B). At first we weren't sure how we felt about the music-- but after several plays everyone loved it.
Other music we listened to: The Moody Blues. Bob Dylan. Joan Baez. And the other music of the 60s.
I had listened to Country & Western music rarely-- and never BlueGrass. Then one day I met a student who came from the mountains. He described life there-- they still had a hand-cranked washing machine that wasn't electric! And were really "authentic hillbillies". One day he demonstrated his proficiency on the fiddle (played The Orange Blossom Special of course... often called "The Fidler's National Anthem"). And a few other tunes.
After that I was hooked on Bluegrass!
Some of the other guys I hung out with played Bluegrass Guitar and Banjo-- and occasional Jug Band instruments. But almost entirely Bluegrass. Well, also Blues, especially Mississippi Delta Blues!
).
His name was Brantley Kearns. Unfortunately he only stayed around for one year IIRC. I googled him, and found just one video of his music. I didn't recognize him at first in the video-- after all, the last time I saw him was 50 years or so ago!
(He's the one playing the fiddle in the video and doing the vocals):
* * *
(Buzz: Its "No One Will Ever Know" - Brantly Kearns)
I owe a debt of gratitude to Brantley-- he's the one that got me interested in Bluegrass-- one of my favorite genres to this day...