August 27, 1968 - Around 2:30 a.m.?
by Janine Stephenson
Oh dear God. I'm still at the convention. I don't know when people plan to sleep - maybe they don't - but you would never believe what just happened. There was an actual FIGHT on the floor! Let me see if I can explain this right:
As I mentioned earlier, there were two Georgia delegations. One was official and the other had come to the convention in the hopes that the official group would be kicked out. The fight was over the official delegation had been elected through racist means. I don't understand the intracacies of all that, except that it's not a stretch to think that Georgia would try to cheat black people. So when they announced that the official delegation would remain seated, the challenging delegation rose up and started going after the official delegation!
I didn't see it happen. The only thing I know is that someone yelled "FIGHT!" into our room and everyone rushed out to see what was happening. Not all of us could get onto the floor or even see what was happening. There was a loud chanting and people running off the floor to talk to various people. Complete chaos.
I'm still trying to find out what's happening.
More on the Georgia delegation: The official ones were chosen. I'm not sure who chose the unofficial ones. Were they elected? I don't know. But I have heard that the official delegation is all-white and the unofficial one is black and white.
****
Around 5 p.m.
We finally made it back to our hotel room at 4 in the morning. Ron said that I would have a hard day ahead, so we should meet again at noon. Becca and I rode the passenger bus back to the hotel. It all seemed so eerie outside, so dark and quiet. I wondered what happened while we were inside the convention - if anything. I saw some things strewn in the street and there were people walking around. Otherwise, I don't think anything has happened.
I wonder if Baby John has been here.
Becca and I slept soundly and got up around 11 a.m. My hair doesn't look right, but I also know that no one is looking at my hair. I have a list of delegations that are supposed to get literature to pass to their delegations. Of course, not everyone is friendly to us, so we're not asking for trouble. We pass on the unfriendly ones and concentrate on the doves.
Everyone is still talking about the Georgians. Some say that they've never seen anything like it. Ron still wants me to go to the floor of the convention - tonight. He says it's an experience I have earned. But I don't know. I'm afraid of being surrounded by angry people. And everyone here is ANGRY!
