Reading of the death of former U.S. Sen. Eugene McCarthy today I couldn’t help but think of 10 days in 1968 when I was witness to what, in retrospect, seems a string 1960s cliches.
On March 31, the day LBJ announced he wouldn’t run for another term, I was in a group that marched for “women’s rights” at the University of Georgia. I was not really protesting myself. I was home on leave from the service and was along for the ride as my former college roommates at Georgia organized the protest.
After the protesters were spurned by the administration they took over the Administration Building and made some national news. A few days later the sit-in ended when Martin Luther King was assassinated on April 4.
From there I went to Washington and worked at the Women for McCarthy headquarters on Connecticut Avenue in a hotel that later became the Chinese Embassy. While I was mimeographing leaflets for McCarthy, parts of Washington were burning as riots broke out after the murder of Dr. King.
Frankly, after that 10 days of turmoil I was glad to head back to Thule, Greenland, for the final six months of my tour.
