Stunned

July 21, 1968
by Amy

It's starting, but I didn't think it would begin with my Father. We keep track of what the press says about us. I suppose every group does. We also keep a firm eye on what they're saying about our member groups.

Of course, unless they're radical journalists, we don't expect good press. That's the way it works. No one likes us. It's the reason why my Dad's sympathetic columns were greeted with hostility by those around him at the paper. It's also the reason why his editor told him to quit writing about us. Everyone thought he was being swayed by my politics.

I didn't think that was the case. Like Walter Cronkite, Dad knows that there's no way to win the peace. He understands that this is a losing battle. Journalists see what's going on. They know that the government lies. They know that the government also tries to manipulate them. Dad says that journalism is one part neutrality, one part skepticism, and one part independent thinking. That's what he was taught, and I guess that's why he's one of the top columnists in Chicago.

Glasses called me this morning to ask if I saw Dad's column. I hadn't. Evidently, Dad is calling our group along with the Yips "petulant children." That's the headline. "Petulant Children Have No Petal Power." Not the best headline, but I know that Dad isn't responsible for it.

But he is responsible for his own column, along with everything it says in it. He detailed the city's perspective on our permit problems. He quoted city officials telling everyone that there is no need to fear the threats from the Yips. Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin won't have the power to terrorize the city.

Terrorize? Pretty strong words, I'd say.

The city official also called Glasses out by name, telling Dad that national politics takes priority over a bunch of hooligans... That was the word he used. Hooligans.

The city is coming off like they're going to save everyone from our peaceful demonstration. Free music, free food and good times. Daley and the whole lot of them are going to save us all from being happy.

Glasses read the whole thing to me over the phone, along with Dad's closing line: "While delegates nominate the Democratic candidate, perhaps we should all join them in celebrating our democracy in action."

After he read it, he asked for my reaction. I don't have one. I think I'm too stunned.