Tag Archives: Richard Nixon

Hangin’ with Judge Hoffman

POST #8

This is the eighth in a series of posts that recall what it was like to serve as Judge Julius Hoffman’s law clerk from 1967 to 1969.

The “Chicago 7” Trial (continued)

            How did the Nixon victory lead to the trial of the “Chicago 7”?  The answer is simple.

             With prosecutions by the U.S. Justice Department shifting from the Johnson administration and its attorney general, Ramsey Clark, to those on Nixon’s team who began running the Justice Department, things changed dramatically. 

            AG Clark had been reluctant to go after antiwar activists.  But Nixon was a warped personality, bent on punishing those he viewed as his enemies.  Once in office, with his own attorney general, John Mitchell, securely installed, he could prod federal prosecutors to go after his perceived foes.

            With the assistance of the FBI, long under the direction of another warped individual, J. Edgar Hoover, Nixon was able to track down his enemies, including antiwar protestors who had militated against him.  At the Democratic convention in Chicago in August 1968, antiwar activists’ outspoken opposition to the ultimately successful nomination of Hubert Humphrey (who in their view had not supported their cause with sufficient enthusiasm) disrupted the convention and undermined Humphrey’s ability to defeat Nixon.  As I noted in Post #7, Humphrey’s popular vote total in November was only one percent short of Nixon’s.  But that one percent made all the difference in the now-notoriously-undemocratic Electoral College.

            Many of these protestors had opposed the Vietnam War even before 1968, and they promised to further disrupt things once Nixon was elected.  Hoover’s FBI moved on from targeting people like members of the Communist Party USA to antiwar activists.  A covert program, Cointelpro, used a wide range of “dirty tricks,” including illegal wiretaps and planting false documents. 

I’ll add a recent update on Cointelpro here.

A fascinating revelation appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle in 2021

            On March 7 of this year, The San Francisco Chronicle revealed an FBI break-in that underscores what the agency was doing at this time.  On March 8, 1971, Ralph Daniel, then 26, was one of eight antiwar activists who had long suspected FBI malfeasance and broke into a small FBI office in Pennsylvania to seize records that would prove it.  (March 8 was chosen because, they hoped, FBI agents would be focused on the title fight between prizefighters Ali and Frazier that night.) The break-in was successful, and the records uncovered were leaked to journalists and others, exposing Hoover’s secret FBI program that investigated and spied on citizens accused of engaging in protected speech. 

            This was the massive Cointelpro operation that had amassed files on antiwar activists, students, Black Panthers, and other Black citizens.  Fred Hampton, the leader of the Chicago Black Panthers, was one target of this operation. (He plays a small role in Aaron Sorkin’s film, “The Trial of the Chicago 7,” before his shocking murder is revealed during that trial.  I remember learning of Hampton’s murder and feeling sickened by the conduct of local law enforcement, whose homicidal wrongdoing later became apparent.)

            In 1975, the U.S. Senate’s Church Committee found the FBI program illegal and contrary to the Constitution.      Exposure of Cointelpro tarnished Hoover’s legacy and damaged the reputation of the FBI for years.

            The recent revelation appears in the March 7th edition of The San Francisco Chronicle.  Ralph Daniel, a resident of the Bay Area, revealed his story to a Chronicle reporter fifty years after the break-in took place.

The legal underpinnings of the trial of the “Chicago 7”

            With John Mitchell running Nixon’s Justice Department, federal prosecutors were instructed to focus on one section in a federal statute originally intended to penalize those who created civil unrest following the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., and specifically to use that statute to bring charges against antiwar activists.  The statute, which had been enacted on April 11, 1968, was mostly a follow-up to the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and it applied to issues like fair housing and the civil rights of Native American tribes. 

            But Title X of this law, which became known as the Anti-Riot Act, did something quite different.  It made it a felony to cross states lines or make phone calls “to incite a riot; to organize, promote or participate in a riot; or to aid and abet any person performing these activities.” This provision, sometimes called the “H. Rap Brown Law,” was passed in response to the conduct of civil rights activist H. Rap Brown.  

How did Judge Hoffman become involved?

            In September 1968, shortly after the Chicago convention, the Chief Judge of the Northern District of Illinois, William J. Campbell, convened a grand jury to investigate possible charges against antiwar protestors who had been active during the convention.  The grand jury, which met 30 times over six months and heard about 300 witnesses, indicted the eight antiwar protestors who came to be dubbed the “Chicago 8” with a violation of the Anti-Riot Act.  AG John Mitchell then asked the U.S Attorney for the Northern District, Thomas Foran, to stay in office and direct the prosecution.

            In Hoffman’s chambers, I was unaware that any of this was happening.  But in the spring of 1969, Hoffman became the judge who would preside over the prosecution.

            Anyone could see from the very beginning that this case was a hot potato–such a hot potato that before it was assigned to Hoffman, it had bounced around the courthouse a couple of times.  Cases were supposed to be randomly assigned to judges according to a “wheel” in the clerk’s office.  But this time, the first two judges who’d been handed the case had reportedly sent it back.  One of these judges was Chief Judge Campbell.  I’m not sure about the other judge, but whoever he was, he had a lot more smarts than Hoffman did.

            [I had my own run-in with Judge Campbell, beginning in February 1970.  But that’s a story for another time.]

            When the case landed in Hoffman’s chambers, he seemed somewhat taken aback, but I think he may have been secretly pleased to be handed this case.  He might have even liked the idea that he’d be handling a high-profile prosecution that would draw a lot of attention.  In any event, his ego wouldn’t let him send the case back to “the wheel,” even on a pretext.

            I kept my distance from the “Chicago 8” case.  As Hoffman’s senior clerk, due to leave that summer, I wasn’t expected to do any work on it.  My co-clerk, at that time the junior clerk, would become the senior clerk after my departure, and he assumed responsibility for the pre-trial motions and other events related to the case.  I was frankly delighted to have little or no responsibility this case.  It was clearly dynamite, and Hoffman was clearly the wrong judge for it.

            Since I was still working in Hoffman’s chambers, I could of course observe what was happening there.  And I could see what was going to happen long before the trial began.  Attorneys for the eight defendants (who later became seven when defendant Bobby Seale’s case was severed, in a sadly shocking episode about a month after the trial began) immediately began filing pre-trial motions that contested absolutely everything. 

            As I recall, one pre-trial motion explicitly asked Hoffman to recuse himself (i.e., withdraw as judge).  The defense lawyers’ claim was that Hoffman’s conduct of previous trials showed that he couldn’t conduct this trial fairly.  If Hoffman had been smart, he would have seized upon this motion as a legitimate way to extract himself from the case.  He must have already suspected that things in his courtroom might not go well.  But again, his pride wouldn’t allow him to admit that there was anything in his history that precluded him from conducting a fair trial.

            Soon the national media began descending on the courtroom to report on Hoffman’s rulings on the pre-trial motions.  One day Hoffman came into the clerks’ room to show us a published article in which a reporter had described the judge as having a “craggy” face.  “What does ‘craggy’ mean?” he asked us. 

            My co-clerk and I were dumbfounded, wondering how to respond to such a bizarre question.  The word “craggy” had always sounded rather rugged to me, while Hoffman looked much more like the cartoon character Mr. Magoo (as many in the media soon began to describe him).  I muttered something about “looking rugged,” while my co-clerk stayed silent.  Hoffman looked dubious about my response and continued to harp on the possible definition of “craggy” for another five or ten minutes until he finally left.

            The problem with Hoffman’s treatment of the “Chicago 7′ case was, fundamentally, that he treated it like every other criminal case he’d ever handled.  And the defense attorneys were right.  He had a record of bias in favor of government prosecutors.

            This problem became his downfall.  He refused to see that this case was unique and had to be dealt with on its own terms, unlike all of the other criminal cases in his past. 

            Further, he lacked any flexibility and remained committed to the way he’d always conducted proceedings in his courtroom.  If he’d had some degree of flexibility, that might have helped the trial proceed more smoothly.  But at 74, after 16 years on the bench, he was accustomed to running an orderly courtroom with lawyers and defendants who followed the rules.

            He would not have an orderly courtroom this time, and he was completely unable to bend those rules.

The film, “The Trial of the Chicago 7,” written and directed by Aaron Sorkin

            This film, which first appeared in September 2020 (I’ll call it “the Sorkin film”), has made the trial the centerpiece of a lengthy and detailed dramatization of the trial itself, along with the events that led up to it. 

The film is an impressive achievement.  I applaud Sorkin for bringing attention to the 50-year-old trial and to many of the people and events who were part of it.

I’ve chosen not to critique the film but simply to add comments based on my own recollections from that era along with what I’ve gleaned from my independent research.

The Sorkin film has notably garnered a 90 percent positive score on Rotten Tomatoes, based on nearly 300 critics’ reviews.  Some of the reviews are glowing, others less so.

I’ll quote from a sampling of reviews.

A.O. Scott wrote in The New York Times:  The film is “talky and clumsy, alternating between self-importance and clowning.”

David Sims wrote in The Atlantic:  This is “a particularly shiny rendering of history, but Sorkin wisely [focuses] on America’s failings, even as he celebrates the people striving to fix them.”

Joe Morgenstern wrote in The Wall Street Journal:  The film “diminishes its aura of authenticity with dubious inventions” and “muddies its impact by taking on more history than it can handle.”

Sorkin’s overall themes are opposition to an unjust war, specifically the Vietnam War; the attempt by activists in 1968 to achieve what they viewed as justice and to strengthen democracy; and how all of this played out politically.  As A.O. Scott noted in his review, “the accident of timing” helped to bolster these themes, with “echoes of 1968” clear to most of us in 2020:  “the appeals to law and order, the rumors of radicals sowing disorder in the streets, the clashes between police and citizens.” 

Sorkin himself told an interviewer that protestors in 2020 got “demonized as being un-American, Marxist, communist—all things they called the Chicago 7.”  He added, “The movie is not intended to be a history lesson, or about 1968—it’s about today.”

(As I point out later in “A Brief Detour,” these themes also played out in Greece during the 1960s.)

In his screenplay, Sorkin sets the scene well.  He begins with news coverage noting LBJ’s escalation of troops and draft calls to beef up the war in Vietnam.  He includes a clip of Martin Luther King Jr. stating that the war was poisoning the soul of America.  He also highlights the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, who had spoken out against the war, while at the same time noting the increase in casualties among the troops in Vietnam.

In addition, Sorkin makes clear that two of the Chicago 7 defendants, Tom Hayden and Rennie Davis, were leaders of SDS, an organization maintaining that the Vietnam War was contrary to our notions of social justice.  He also shows us Abbie Hoffman (hereinafter Abbie, to avoid confusion with the judge) and Jerry Rubin–who wanted to see either Senator Eugene McCarthy or Senator George McGovern nominated for the presidency– proclaiming that there wasn’t enough difference between Humphrey and Nixon to merit a vote for Humphrey.  (Gosh, this sounds familiar, doesn’t it?  It reminds me of Ralph Nader in 2000, proclaiming that there was no difference between Al Gore and George W. Bush. Thanks, Ralph, for helping to defeat Al Gore and giving us George W. Bush and the war in Iraq.) 

One more thing:  Abbie and Rubin claim in a clip that they’re going to the convention in Chicago “peacefully,” but “we’ll meet violence with violence.”

The film has deservedly won over a large number of admiring movie-watchers, but let’s be honest: Many if not most of them have little or no knowledge of the real story portrayed in it.

Sorkin’s screenplay received the Golden Globe award as the best screenplay of 2020, and it’s been nominated for an Oscar in that category.  The film has also been nominated for an Oscar as the Best Motion Picture of 2020.  One of its actors, Sacha Baron Cohen, is nominated for best supporting actor, and the film is nominated in three other Oscar categories.  In April, the cast received the Screen Actors Guild award for the Outstanding Performance by a Motion Picture Cast.

A few of my own comments

            As I’ve previously pointed out, in the spring of 1969 I was serving as Hoffman’s senior clerk.  I wasn’t responsible for advising him on his rulings during the trial (which began after my departure that summer), and I also didn’t take part in his rulings before the trial.  But it was impossible not to observe what was happening in his chambers while I was still working there.

            Although I therefore could observe what went on in Hoffman’s chambers, I was unaware of many of the events that were taking place outside of his chambers, and I don’t recall whether I personally observed any of the pre-trial courtroom appearances of the defense attorneys.  I also never observed the conduct of any of the defendants before the trial began, unless they appeared on local TV news coverage.

            For these reasons, I found much of the Sorkin film illuminating.  Although I’d very much like to know the sources Sorkin relied on in crafting his screenplay, I haven’t attempted to find out exactly what they were.  For proceedings in the courtroom both before and during the trial, I’m sure that Sorkin relied on the court transcript, which would have recorded everything said in court by the prosecutors, the defendants, defense counsel, the judge, and the many witnesses. 

            [Because of my own experience with court reporters, I know that not every word said in court is in fact recorded properly.  When I said during an oral argument (in a case called Doe v. Scott) that there was “no consensus” among medical experts regarding when life begins, the court reporter recorded my response as “no consequences.”  A very different word with a very different meaning in that context.  But in the trial of the “Chicago 7,” it’s probably safe to assume that the court reporter got most of the words right.]

            As for anything said outside of court, I’ll assume that Sorkin chose to rely on reputable sources.  I know, for example, that defense attorney William Kunstler published a book titled “My Life as a Radical Lawyer,” which probably provided helpful background for some of what happened (at least from Kunstler’s viewpoint).  Countless other books, interviews, and media accounts were no doubt researched and used to support scenes in the film.  Kudos to Sorkin if he and his staff perused these books and other background material for insights into what happened.

            I nevertheless want to ask, on my behalf as well as yours:

            How accurate is the film?

            Although Sorkin may have done a thorough job of research, there’s no question that he took considerable “creative license” when he wrote his screenplay.  He chose to emphasize certain events and to de-emphasize, revise, or omit others.  He also created totally new stuff to dramatize the story.

             For a review of what’s accurate and what’s not, I recommend two online articles.  One that strikes me as a careful job that squares with what I remember is “What’s Fact and What’s Fiction in The Trial of the Chicago 7” by Matthew Dessum, published on Oct. 15, 2020, in Slate.com.   A similar article appeared around the same time in smithsonianmag.com.

                                                To be continued

Hangin’ with Judge Hoffman

POST #7

This is the seventh in a series of posts that recall what it was like to clerk for Judge Julius J. Hoffman from 1967 to 1969.

The “Chicago 7” Trial

            In the spring of 1969, shortly before I was to leave my clerkship, a new case arrived in Hoffman’s chambers.  It resulted from a grand jury’s investigation into the events that had transpired in Chicago the previous summer, just before and during the Democratic National Convention in August 1968.  Eight men, later known as the “Chicago 8,” were accused of violating a new federal law, the Anti-Riot Act, by inciting demonstrations and violent encounters with the police in the streets and parks of Chicago.

            Countless books and articles have been written about this trial, sometimes called the Chicago “conspiracy trial,” and I’ve also seen a number of dramatic presentations on the stage, TV, and film. I don’t question the validity of any of these and won’t comment on them here.

            In 2020, a new film, written and directed by Aaron Sorkin, “The Trial of the Chicago 7,” appeared on our screens.  I’ll comment briefly on that film later.

            Because I clerked for Judge Julius J. Hoffman from 1967 to 1969, and because I lived in Chicago during that tumultuous time, I want to state my personal comments on the trial and the events that led up to it. 

            In this post, I’ll state my point of view as someone in a unique situation, working with Judge Hoffman at the very outset of the case, and who–after the trial was over—briefly talked to him about it.

First, some background 

I began my clerkship with Judge Hoffman during the summer of 1967, and I served as his junior clerk until the summer of 1968, when I became his senior clerk for a year.  My two-year clerkship ended during the summer of 1969.  Throughout my clerkship, I was living in my hometown of Chicago.  To help you comprehend the significance of the trial and surrounding events, I want to put them into some sort of context.

My remarks are based on my personal recollections of Chicago during those years.

            First, I was well aware of the rampant corruption in the city.  At the time, I sometimes described the city’s government as a “benevolent dictatorship.” Looking back, I no longer view it as “benevolent,” but it certainly was a dictatorship.

            The city’s government was dominated by one man:  Richard J. Daley, who served as the city’s mayor from 1955 until his death in 1976.  He not only held the executive leadership role, but he also made sure that local ordinances and everything else he wanted were enacted by a complicit city council filled with his acolytes (I recall only one dissenter during those years, an alderman named Leon Despres).  In addition, he decided who would fill local judicial openings.  As a result, the state courts were rank with incompetent judges loyal to Daley and his machine.

            Federal judgeships were somewhat different.  Many if not most of the judges were more or less independent of Daley, at least once they were on the bench.  Even though these judges probably were not totally lacking corrupt motives of their own, most of them (including Democratically-appointed judges who had some connection to Daley in their past) were not necessarily loyal to the Daley regime. 

            Judge Hoffman was a Republican appointed by Dwight Eisenhower and to my knowledge not connected in any way to the Daley machine, although I suspect that many members of the public thought he was. At a luncheon in Chicago in 2001, I was seated next to a prominent news anchor who voiced his assumption that Hoffman was part of the Daley machine.  I immediately corrected him.

Political developments during 1968

            By early 1968, many Democrats had grown restless with the presidency of LBJ.  National politics heated up when a number of men announced that they hoped to replace him.

            The heat became intense on March 31, when LBJ announced in a live TV appearance that he would not run again. (I recall watching him make that stunning announcement.) 

            LBJ reportedly dropped out because Senator Eugene McCarthy of Minnesota had won 42 percent of the vote in the New Hampshire primary, while LBJ won only 49 percent.  McCarthy was the leading voice advocating an end to the Vietnam War, a position that was becoming increasingly popular.  McCarthy’s primary showing led Senator Robert F. Kennedy of New York to enter the race a short time later.   Like McCarthy, he ran on an antiwar platform and advocated a number of other popular positions.

Even before LBJ’s announcement on March 31, I—like so many others– had become disillusioned with him, despite all of his remarkable accomplishments in the domestic realm, because of his increasing and unwavering support of the Vietnam War.  I never considered supporting Republican Richard Nixon, who had run and lost to JFK in 1960 (and later lost his race for governor of California).  I loathed Nixon for a great many reasons.   But for a while, New York’s relatively moderate Republican governor, Nelson Rockefeller, seemed like a possible alternative to LBJ. 

During a visit to New York City to visit friends in early March, I accompanied one of them to a meeting of the NYC bar association, where Rockefeller was the main speaker.  As he finished his speech and left for the exit, I ran after him.  Just outside the building, I approached him and stuck out my hand to shake his.  “Please run for president,” I urged him as we shook hands.  He smiled and said, “Well, aren’t you dear?” before descending the steps to his waiting car. 

I often wondered how things might have turned out if Rockefeller had taken the advice I offered him on those steps before Nixon’s grip on his party became too strong to overcome.  A short time later, LBJ dropped out of the running, and the Democratic race was wide open.  Rockefeller no long held any real appeal for me.  Now, with LBJ out of the picture, I would decide who, among the Democratic candidates who remained in the race, I’d support.

The Democratic National Convention, which would choose the ultimate nominee, was scheduled to be held in Chicago in late August of 1968.

My life in Chicago

I tried to keep up with political developments that spring and summer, but truthfully, I was primarily focused on the things that dominated my everyday life.  First, there were my responsibilities as Hoffman’s law clerk.  Then there was travel, like my trip to NYC in early March.  I also spent time with old friends I’d known for years along with some new ones.  And then there was my attempt to meet potential suitors.  (I was focused on my career but not to the exclusion of marriage and kids.)

In April, Chicago was rocked by the murder of Martin Luther King Jr. in Memphis.  Fires and looting broke out in parts of the city.  I recall visiting the apartment of someone I was dating at the time.  Together we stood at the windows of his high-rise apartment in Sandburg Village viewing the widespread fires we could see below.  I was immensely saddened by King’s death and the terrible destruction that followed.  But my own everyday life didn’t really change.

Was I aware of the efforts by antiwar activists who were gearing up for the DNC in August?  Just barely.  I often watched local TV news and read the daily Chicago Sun-Times, so I was vaguely aware that there was a Yippie movement headed by Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin.  Didn’t they publicize a stunt where they brought a pig to Chicago, announcing that it was a candidate for president?  Because that struck me as pretty ridiculous, it was hard to take them seriously.  

I probably had read something about Tom Hayden and the SDS, but I honestly knew very little about them.  I was also vaguely aware of the Black Panthers, led in Chicago by Fred Hampton, but their agenda didn’t have any noticeable impact on my everyday life.

I did follow the campaigns of the leading Democratic hopefuls.  Eugene McCarthy was my early favorite, but by early June I was considering shifting my allegiance to RFK.  I was therefore horrified, along with the rest of the country, when he was assassinated in the Ambassador Hotel in LA that June.  I had lived very near the Ambassador when I briefly lived in LA at the age of 12, where my family’s first home was a rented apartment on Normandie just off Wilshire Boulevard, a location very close to the Ambassador, and I had strolled near there.  That memory made RFK’s assassination even more real to me than it might otherwise have. 

After he died, I returned to supporting Eugene McCarthy, but I ultimately resolved (with reservations) to support LBJ’s vice president, former Minnesota Senator Hubert Humphrey, as the most electable of the Democratic candidates for president.  Humphrey had a long and admirable record as a liberal Democrat who had supported civil rights legislation and other liberal causes for many years.  But although he earned the support of liberal senators like Fred Harris of Oklahoma and Walter Mondale of Minnesota, he faced vehement opposition because of his adherence to LBJ’s Vietnam policies.  He spoke out against Senator McCarthy and Senator George McGovern’s call for an immediate end to the bombings in Vietnam, an early withdrawal of troops, and setting talks for a coalition government with the Viet Cong. 

Humphrey didn’t enter any of the primary elections held in 13 states, but he won the party nomination at its chaotic convention in Chicago in August.  He lost the November election by less than one percent of the popular vote, but he carried only 13 states. 

The Democratic convention and the events surrounding it led to the trial of the “Chicago 7.”

My vacation that summer

I planned to take my summer vacation during the convention for a simple reason: A close friend who lived in NYC asked me to join her on a road trip that would leave Chicago just as the convention was beginning. I was living paycheck-to-paycheck (my salary was $6,000 for the year), so I jumped at the chance to get an essentially free ride to NYC. 

My friend was coming to Chicago for a wedding, and we would leave on our road trip to NYC on Sunday, August 25, just as the convention was about to begin.  I planned to see friends in NYC and Boston, and then travel from Boston to Cape Cod with another close friend.  Because I was busy making my vacation plans, I was largely insulated from news about the convention.

In Hoffman’s chambers, things at this point seemed routine.  I was largely preoccupied with ruling on the case of The Inmates of Cook County Jail, which I’ve discussed in Post # 4.  As I mentioned in that post, I left my semi-radical opinion on Hoffman’s desk on Friday afternoon the 23rd for him to read while I was away.  (I was later amazed on my return to Chicago to learn that he’d read this opinion from the bench during my vacation.)

I was living that summer at 1360 Lake Shore Drive (where the rent on my studio apartment was a whopping $140 a month).  My mother lived a few miles farther north at Lake Shore Drive and Aldine.  Leaving my mother’s apartment the Saturday night before I was to take off on my vacation, I rode on a bus that drove through Lincoln Park (the largest park on the North Side of the city) en route to my apartment.  I was startled to see masses of people gathering in the park shortly before the convention was to begin.  During the work week, I’d been similarly shocked to see U.S. Army jeeps driving up and down city streets in downtown Chicago when I walked to work in the Federal Building on Dearborn Street. 

Both unprecedented sights made me wonder exactly what might happen in the city during the convention.  But these somewhat shocking events weren’t front and center in my mind.  I remember feeling kind of glad to be leaving town and avoiding what promised to be ominous events happening in Chicago while I was away.

Did I follow the news during my road-trip vacation?  Not really.  So I was pretty much unaware of what was happening at the convention.  But once I arrived in NYC, I stayed with a friend in Greenwich Village and, on the night that became notorious, I watched the convention with her and her husband on their living-room TV.  Needless to say, I was shocked by what I saw.  And terribly embarrassed by the behavior of Chicago’s Mayor Daley, revealed for all to see on TV.  I remember watching Senator Abe Ribicoff speaking at the podium, nominating George McGovern for president, and defying Daley, whose henchman booed the U.S. senator from Connecticut.  Daley was caught on camera mouthing expletives about Ribicoff that TV wouldn’t or couldn’t describe.

At the same time, TV news coverage highlighted what was happening elsewhere in Chicago.  The convention was held at the International Amphitheater, a considerable distance from the center of the city.  But a multitude of antiwar protesters had gathered in the very large downtown park, Grant Park, located adjacent to Michigan Avenue.  These protestors created havoc as they began to move onto Michigan Avenue.  The resulting chaos, and the violent reaction to the protestors by the Chicago police department, seen across the world on TV, was later described as a “police riot.”

In NYC, I put that chaotic vision aside and went on to meet another friend in Boston.  We traveled together to Cape Cod, where we heard that Humphrey had chosen Maine Senator Edmund Muskie as his VP.  Muskie seemed like a good choice, and despite the turmoil in the Democratic Party, I was hopeful that the Humphrey-Muskie ticket could defeat Tricky Dick.

Flying back to Chicago to resume my life there, I discovered that things had largely settled down.  What had happened during the convention didn’t loom large in my mind as I began to pay close attention to the much more compelling 1968 election campaign.  The outcome would steer our country down Humphrey’s path or down a very different one.

In November, I was plunged into gloom by the dispiriting Nixon victory.  I remember watching election-night news coverage in agony as Tricky Dick’s votes added up.  I saw his victory unfold on my tiny black-and-white TV, seated on my sofa next to a date who’d asked me to accompany him earlier that evening to a performance of “Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris” at The Happy Medium.  Maybe because I associated the guy with that terrible night, I was OK when he gradually faded from my life.  I honestly didn’t care if I never saw him again.

Nixon’s victory changed everything. 

To be continued….

It’s time to write those checks

Do you remember that old phrase…”Put your money where your mouth is”?

It strikes me as more timely than ever.

The upcoming election is critical.  Its outcome will determine the future of our country in countless ways.

If you’re concerned about which way the results may go, you should consider donating to the candidates and the causes you support.  And you should do it right now.

I’m “old school.”  Although I sometimes make donations online, I still like to pull out my checkbook and write actual checks.  They’re not very big.  I’m heartened by big-money donors like Mike Bloomberg, who just gave $100 million to the Biden campaign in Florida.  By contrast, my checks are much, much smaller.  More like a grain of sand in a miles-long beach of donations.

But every little bit helps.

Here’s some history:  I‘m old enough to recall the presidential campaign of 1972.  My husband (aka Marv) and I ardently supported the candidacy of George McGovern, who valiantly campaigned for president that year, fighting the unrelenting dirty tricks devised by Richard Nixon and his allies. The Watergate burglary was just one crime in that long ugly record of wrongdoing.

Marv and I sent McGovern’s campaign the astounding sum of $100.  Astounding because we were young and living on two minuscule salaries as pathetically-paid faculty members at the University of Michigan. That check for $100 made a huge dent in our budget.  I’ve checked the figures, and the 2020 equivalent is $626.47.  You can imagine how committed we were to WWII hero/Vietnam War opponent George McGovern, and how much we despised Tricky Dick Nixon, for us to come up with a donation like that.

Sadly, the dirty tricks of the Nixon era have been surpassed by the dirty tricks engaged in by the current occupant of the White House. Even Nixon’s attorney general, John Mitchell, did his dirty work behind the scenes, unlike our current attorney general, whose astonishing power-grab is out there for all of us to see.

Back to donations: Instead of boring you with details of other donations I’ve made, both before and after ‘72, I’d rather move on to the situation today.

Because we’re only seven weeks away from this fall’s election, there’s no time to waste. 

All of the candidates in this hard-fought campaign are in need of funds to help them win. 

I strongly urge you to get out your checkbooks or your credit cards, or both, and donate to the candidates you earnestly want to win. And to any organized group whose efforts you’ve decided are also worth your support.

I’ll be honest:  I want to see a new president elected. And I want to see a U.S. Senate that will reflect the views of the majority of voters in this country, not those of a single senator from Kentucky.

I want to keep the U.S. House in the hands of those who are in the majority right now, under the continued leadership of Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi.  And I want to see judges who are fair and not overly influenced by politics fill all of the openings for new judges in the federal courts, including the U.S. Supreme Court.

I’m writing checks to support the candidates and causes I want to win.  For probably the first time in my life, I’m also sending money to bolster the efforts of a group of politically energized veterans.  A group, Vote Vets, has stated its strong opposition to our current president.  And in a compelling letter seeking my support, it has told me exactly why.

Of course, you may have chosen to take other steps to support candidates and causes, like knocking on doors and making phone calls. Those efforts can do a lot to help, and I commend you for doing them. But at the same time, please don’t forget the enormous need for funds to pay for TV advertising, among other things. Especially if your candidate refuses to hold rallies that endanger the lives of those who attend them.

You may disagree with me on any or all of these candidates and causes.  If you do, go ahead and support the candidates and causes that you prefer.  We still live in a democratic republic…if, as Benjamin Franklin said, we can keep it.

So…will you put your money where your mouth is? 

If you don’t, and your candidate fails to win, you may everlastingly regret your decision not to lend your much-needed support.