Life Magazine pays tribute to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in this April 12, 1968 issue. It also explores a tumultuous month; one that included King’s murder, Johnson’s withdrawal, McCarthy’s win in New Hampshire and Kennedy’s subsequent entry into the race.
It should be noted that there were two issues of Life dated April 12, 1968. A rarer version of an earlier print run shows Lyndon Johnson on the cover.
This edition begins with three editorials focusing on hope. In their view, America is the land of possibility. When tragedy occurs, it only serves to create heroes and martyrs.
The lead editorial, "Vietnam: A Fresh Prospect" reports on the President's announcement of possible negotiations with Hanoi on the Vietnam conflict. "The President's announcement marked a major shift in his policy and started a flood of hope in the hearts of American people."
Another featured editorial, "The Presidency: A New Dimension" slants the presidential race in terms of how "marvelously responsive the American political system can be... Yet this system, for all its apparent chaos, copes with the talents and ideas and ambitions of a wide variety of men. In the end, it usually works to the advantage of the country."
The final editorial is on the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Of that murder, the editors write, in part: "King was a thoroughly good man who achieved greatness by showing forth the Negro cause at its best."
Life Magazine chose to report on Dr. King’s life and death through pictures. Joseph Louw's historic photos captured King at his moment of shooting, along with the removal of his body from the Lorraine Motel. Other photographs of Dr. King are also included. But the most chilling aspect of this package is Louw's narrative of Dr. King's death: "At first it sounded like a loud explosion, but there was an echo right after it. I rushed out on the balcony. Dr. King was collapsing." He continues describing the scene: the shape of Dr. King's mouth, the reactions of Andrew Young and Jesse Jackson. "In that one moment, the sound of the shot and the sight of Dr. King made me almost feel that wound and I was terrified that it was going to happen to me." His words are still chilling, even after so much time has lapsed since Dr. King's death.
Though he loved power, Johnson had plenty of self-doubt in the beginning of his term as president. By the time 1967 arrived, he felt the American people didn’t trust him. In “A Surrender of Power… and A Burst of Hope: Tortuous Road to Decision – and Lady Bird’s Role,” Hugh Sidey reports that the President’s resignation was part of a well-thought out plan. Despite rumors that it was his health that made him withdraw from seeking a second term, this ‘behind-the-scenes look” makes it clear that he wanted to devote his full energy towards seeking a peaceful solution to the Vietnam conflict.
He began to consider retiring in October 1967. Lady Bird listened to his thoughts, held her council, but subtly encouraged him to leave Washington. Johnson was prepared to announce his withdrawal from the race during the State of the Union address, but felt that he needed more time to work with Congress before becoming a lame-duck president. In a prescient photo, Hubert Humphrey is shown smiling as he reads the paper about Johnson’s withdrawal. Humphrey would announce his candidacy on April 27th.
In an adjacent article, “Kennedy’s Search for a New Target” by Jack Newfield eyes Kennedy’s candidacy as a foregone conclusion from the get-go. Kennedy attacked Johnson long and hard, and when Johnson quit the race Bobby had no one to fight. Even if Johnson stayed in the race, Kennedy would’ve tried to get the nomination on the second ballot of the convention. “Until Johnson withdrew, Kennedy’s brain trust had agreed that his best hope of nomination was to convince as many governors and senators as possible to run as favorite sons. That tactic would keep their delegations away from Johnson on the first ballot.”
Newfield establishes the personal animosity between Bobby Kennedy and Gene McCarthy. “He has a long history of personal hostility toward McCarthy, going back to 1960, when McCarthy supported Lyndon Johnson over his brother. In 1964 Kennedy quietly urged the New Frontiersmen who still remained inside the Administration, men like Kenneth O’Donnell, to work for Hubert Humphrey for Vice President rather than McCarthy.”
Shana Alexander profiles Eugene McCarthy in “McCarthy: a Poet’s Voice Stirs the Land.” She discusses the differences between Kennedy & McCarthy and interviews McCarthy about his thoughts on Kennedy and how he sees himself. He tells her: “You know the old rules: Act I states the problem, Act II deals with the complications, and Act III resolves them. I’m an Act II man. That’s where I live – involution and complexity…. Bobby is an Act I man. He says here’s a problem. Here’s another problem. Here’s another. He never really deals with Act II, but I think maybe Bobby’s beginning to write Act III now. Bobby’s tragedy is that to beat me, he’s going to have to destroy his brother. Today I occupy most of Jack’s positions on the board. That’s kind of Greek, isn’t it?”
The profile also describes a characteristic that plagues McCarthy’s legacy: His reluctance to seize power. The Senator firmly believes that the people should seek out their leaders, and that it is wrong for leaders to seek office on their own terms.
Fred Powledge’s regular beat was race relations, but as he explains, the beat is rather depressing right now so he’s writing an article on The Doors. “Wicked Go The Doors: An Adult Education By The Kings of Acid Rock” is a lengthy article about Jim Morrison and the state of music in 1968. “The most satanic thing about The Doors is Jim Morrison, the lead vocalist and author of most of the group’s song… Once you see him perform, you realize that he also seems dangerous, which, for a poet, may be a contradiction in terms.”
An interview with Paul Rothchild, producer at Elektra, discusses the difference between music in the late 60s versus the trite music of earlier times. Now, Rothchild says, there’s room for interpretation and social commentary. But unlike protest music of the earlier 60s, this music is not as powerful. “It’s obvious that protest, in itself, is self-defeating because it just gets people mad. What is significant is social comment. Social commentary is considerably different from social protest. Social comment tries to draw our attention to the problem; it doesn’t draw conclusions, doesn’t say what the solution is,” says Rothchild.
The article ends with a Doors concert in New Haven, Connecticut. As what would normally happen at a Doors concert, the police interrupt the musicians and Morrison is arrested. “The charge against Jim Morrison was that he had breached the peace, given an indecent and immoral exhibition and resisted arrest. He was placed under $1,500 bond. His road manager posted the money from the concert receipts.” The police also arrested a Life reporter, the jazz critic for the Village Voice and a photographer for what Powledge writes is ‘no apparent reason.’
(This issue crossed my path courtesy of Bill Thornton.)
