Did It Hurt?

April 30, 1968
by Amy

They called me a hero. Actually, Bea, our office manager did. She told me that none of the men she knew had anything broken. Bruised, but not broken. And then she asked me the dumbest question ever: Did it hurt?

I've endured the same question from a whole host of others today. It's shocking how much Trotsky can be spouted between stupid questions like, "Did you hear it break? What did it feel like after it happened? Can you bend your wrist?"

If we're the vanguard... Oh dear.

Lesley phoned me from jail. I guess I should be honored to be her one phone call. Evidently she got caught in the big bust at Columbia, which was promptly and violently broken up at 3 a.m. or so. She wasn't hurt, thank goodness. Bruises and a cut finger. Since I'm in Chicago and she's in New York, I wasn't sure I could help her.  But then I had the bright idea of getting Legal Aid in Chicago to get with Legal Aid in New York.

I think things will work out. They told me not to worry about it, so I won't.

In other news, Dad called the office to ask me how I was. He assumed I hadn't been arrested since I didn't call him. So I gave it to him straight: Cops broke my wrist. No, I don' t know exactly who did it. No, I didn't tell them I was the daughter of a famous Chicago columnist. I'm not sure where it would've gotten me if they had known - other than a lecture and stern warning.

Maybe I want to be treated like a regular person for once instead of the daughter of a privileged man.

The paper today printed all sorts of heinous things about the parade. A low count for attendance, telling readers we were unruly... I'm not in the mood to ask my Dad what's going on with that and I'm not sure he could tell me anyway.

So I'm in a pissy mood. We spent today talking about making arrangements for people arrested, putting out press releases, trying to get our side of the story out. I don't have a lot of faith in what we're doing right now and I can't stand to think about tomorrow, next week or the future.

Book Discussion: The Battle For Morningside Heights by Roger Kahn