Fireworks and Fear

July 5, 1968 by Janine Stephenson
We had a lovely July 4th, albeit a somewhat boring one. The Senator had a campaign stop the night before, and then he went back to Minnesota for a short vacation. Since Ron has become an “aide” for the summer campaign, he stayed here in Washington.

Craig, Baby John, Becca and I walked near the famous Cherry Trees before settling down for dinner at a restaurant. Becca and I had to dress nicely for eating, since restaurants here are used to getting harassed by hippies. They won’t serve you if you don’t look right.

That is a form of discrimination, I think, but hippies are notorious for not paying their bills and leaving a mess behind. The hippies we’ve met on the campaign have been quite considerate and pleasant. I have no doubt that they would pay their bills, if they owed money. But the thing about hippies is that they would make sure that they didn’t buy anything to begin with.

After dinner, we went to see fireworks over the Washington Monument. It was beautiful, but it also made me feel very melancholy.

I wish it was 1965, when everything seemed good. People were still sad, but we all felt safe at least. Now, it feels like everything is falling apart. I don’t know what life will look like months from now. Riots, murders… All of it. How will this country survive? Are we every going to stop fighting with each other?

What if there is no country next year? Are people going to start killing each other, like they did in the Civil War? Are we going to be safe in our own homes? How many people do I know who will die in the war?

But what scares me the most is this: We have no control. The people we elect lie to us. No one can be trusted. How can we vote for men who lie to us?

We have no say in what happens to us. And that goes against everything I’ve ever learned about America.