I just got through reading Lucian Truscott’s excellent memory of his Christmas, 1968. If you’ve been checking him out and still need a reason to become a paying subscriber, this one’s the deal-maker. If you haven’t read him, this one’s the one that will have you going back for more. Read it and sign up, it’s really good. Christmas Eve in St. Mark’s on the Lower East Side, listening to Allen Ginsberg read poetry with a transfixed Jimi Hendrix sitting right beside, blown away by what he’s hearing.
Grand story, TC. And by virtue of the time and the tone that you capture, it slides right into the great tradition of American storytelling. And an irresistible opening into "Where were you in 1968" Well, in 1968 I was 22 years old and headed into some rocky years. At 17, at the end of my freshman year, my mother pulled me out of college because I had gotten involved in the Civil Rights Movement--Atlanta 1963-64. My solution to having to go home was to get married, bad mistake, nearly fatal, so I picked up a handsome Irishman in a bar. It was 1972 or '3. He needed a green card; fresh from a nervous breakdown, I just needed to get out of Dodge. I was an adult, not necessarily conscious, for all the events you mention. It was a time, the whole decade a Happening, and for so many of us it was life-changing. The taste of the Movement in Atlanta turned me around, and the day I walked into Berkeley sealed the deal. There was violence, there was fear and doubt, and there was, in the words of John Lewis, the heady experience of making good trouble. I think we made a difference. There was hope. Thank you for your story.
I think we did - the Army never used the Ft Hood troops for riot control. And they changed their policy so that if you had under six months left of your enlistment when you came back from Vietnam (which about fit a 2 year draft term exactly) they discharged you unless you asked not to be.
Great Christmas story TC. The only thing that could make it better would be finding out that the Fort Hood 43 had been pardoned and their records expunged of the DD. Might be too much to hope for even at Christmas though.
Be well and have a very Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year.
“Also, that week, the “Fort Hood 43” happened.” And tho I was born in 1953 and graduated from college in 1974, I’m ashamed to say I never heard of them. Thank you for this sad retelling.
I was born in 1938 - high school - no college, and I never heard of them either. Thats shameful! One more little bit of history not taught - like so many other little bits. Thanks for Lucien Truscotts memory from 1968 - the people he met - I remember the Dem Convention & the turmoil. So very uninvolved with anything going on - which doesnt say much for my awareness at the time. I guess, like many now - living their lives, raising their kids - getting thru each day. Until those people start caring enough to pay attention & speak up & vote - this is how we got DJiT !
I was at Ft. Benning in the middle of basic training at the start of a volunteer 3 year enlistment, there was no going home for Christmas, it was colder than it was here last night (7 degrees), and they had us "in the field" sleeping in down bags left over from WWII that were about as warm as a t shirt, it was about then that it became apparent to me that I was fixing to be canon fodder and decided to start volunteering my way up stream which led to jump school and Special Forces before, (a year later) being sent to VN with much smarter people, not that that could keep you alive, luck, fate, god whatever you want to call it had a hand in it, it's truly a miracle that I survived it, not in one piece, but survived it. I like many of my brothers in arms, pay for it every day and willingly, will for the rest of my life. You are right Tom, Lucian's piece today was over the top good, the 3 of us wandered through that era, not in each others company but together, so his pieces like much of what you have written about that time, ring like a bell to me. I used to stay at Ginsberg's appartment on Fell St. in SF when I was in town to score a kilo or 5 of weed, hanging out with junkies as old as my father who's veins had all collapsed and could only shoot up in their feet was interesting to say the least and that was before the war for me. As the Dead used to sing "what a long strange trip it's been". Merry Christmas to all 😎
1968 was certainly a tumultuous year. It was full of tragedies and change. I was a teenage hippie living in the San Francisco Bay Area, protesting the Viet Nam war and hanging out at the Fillmore and Avalon taking in all of the amazing music. I also remember watching the Apollo 8 broadcast, and am still in awe of the “Earthrise” photograph taken by the astronauts on that flight. After the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobbie Kennedy, as well as the continued devastation of the Viet Nam war, the Apollo 8 broadcast definitely brought some hope. Thank you for your story TC and reminding us of that consequential year. (Lucian Truscott too)
Wow! I was only 15 in '68. I didn't get to Berkeley until '73. (There, I did have President Obama's then future Science Advisor for a class called "Quantitative Aspects of Global Environmental Problems." John Holdren had a PhD in plasma physics, which he signed up for hoping to help save the world with fusion, but soon he realized that fusion was like Godot, and so switched his focus to other ways of saving the world, and he's still right about fusion.
the Fort Hood 43 story, was wonderful, as was the rest of that post. Brought me back to a world I was aware of at the time but alas, didn't really inhabit.
Were you going to link to Lucian Truscott's story? I didn't see one.
1968 was the year I began reading the paper--I mean, really reading the paper--for the first time. I wasn't yet 9 years old when RFK was assassinated. Even in my (then) Republican household the event was a shock, and I remember reading every word about it in the Houston Post. It sparked my interest in current events, and I began watching the national evening news with my parents.
OMG! I 'lived' that too!! You did a beautiful job of evoking what it was like (almost impossible to do!). You are a magnificent writer, and I'm so grateful to have 'found' you here! Happy Christmas, and God bless you. I hope your wife is doing better ... I hold her in my heart.
For sure 1968 was a screwed up mess…Tet, assassinations, LBJ vs. RFK, the fiasco at Chicago, cities on fire, Tricky Dick getting elected (barely), and so much other crap going down, but the Apollo 8 mission sorta balanced thing out somewhat. Like Burl Burlingame used to say “If you remember 1968, you weren’t there!”
'And I thought to myself that maybe things weren’t as bad as I thought they were. Maybe there was hope. “Down there on the good Earth.”, (TC)
Thank you for sharing your openness to discovery and sense of union, TC, in 1968.
With appreciation and admiration for you and Jurate.
Fern
Happy Hopeful Holidays Fern!
A triple H: here are two more for you, MaryPat and all TAFMers, Harmonious & Healthy!
Mmmm! Thanks Fern!
Grand story, TC. And by virtue of the time and the tone that you capture, it slides right into the great tradition of American storytelling. And an irresistible opening into "Where were you in 1968" Well, in 1968 I was 22 years old and headed into some rocky years. At 17, at the end of my freshman year, my mother pulled me out of college because I had gotten involved in the Civil Rights Movement--Atlanta 1963-64. My solution to having to go home was to get married, bad mistake, nearly fatal, so I picked up a handsome Irishman in a bar. It was 1972 or '3. He needed a green card; fresh from a nervous breakdown, I just needed to get out of Dodge. I was an adult, not necessarily conscious, for all the events you mention. It was a time, the whole decade a Happening, and for so many of us it was life-changing. The taste of the Movement in Atlanta turned me around, and the day I walked into Berkeley sealed the deal. There was violence, there was fear and doubt, and there was, in the words of John Lewis, the heady experience of making good trouble. I think we made a difference. There was hope. Thank you for your story.
I think we did - the Army never used the Ft Hood troops for riot control. And they changed their policy so that if you had under six months left of your enlistment when you came back from Vietnam (which about fit a 2 year draft term exactly) they discharged you unless you asked not to be.
Great Christmas story TC. The only thing that could make it better would be finding out that the Fort Hood 43 had been pardoned and their records expunged of the DD. Might be too much to hope for even at Christmas though.
Be well and have a very Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year.
Whoever said this should be a book ( or film) is so right! Captured the passions of 68.
You and Linda's Dad-- like a scene from Guess Who's Coming to Dinner.....!
Have a peaceful Christmas Day. Much love to your household and all its creatures! Thankyou for your creative sharing with us.
“Also, that week, the “Fort Hood 43” happened.” And tho I was born in 1953 and graduated from college in 1974, I’m ashamed to say I never heard of them. Thank you for this sad retelling.
Don't worry - pretty much nobody else has, either.
Not I, born in 1946. Glad I have heard about them now.
True for this oldster as well.
I was born in 1938 - high school - no college, and I never heard of them either. Thats shameful! One more little bit of history not taught - like so many other little bits. Thanks for Lucien Truscotts memory from 1968 - the people he met - I remember the Dem Convention & the turmoil. So very uninvolved with anything going on - which doesnt say much for my awareness at the time. I guess, like many now - living their lives, raising their kids - getting thru each day. Until those people start caring enough to pay attention & speak up & vote - this is how we got DJiT !
I was at Ft. Benning in the middle of basic training at the start of a volunteer 3 year enlistment, there was no going home for Christmas, it was colder than it was here last night (7 degrees), and they had us "in the field" sleeping in down bags left over from WWII that were about as warm as a t shirt, it was about then that it became apparent to me that I was fixing to be canon fodder and decided to start volunteering my way up stream which led to jump school and Special Forces before, (a year later) being sent to VN with much smarter people, not that that could keep you alive, luck, fate, god whatever you want to call it had a hand in it, it's truly a miracle that I survived it, not in one piece, but survived it. I like many of my brothers in arms, pay for it every day and willingly, will for the rest of my life. You are right Tom, Lucian's piece today was over the top good, the 3 of us wandered through that era, not in each others company but together, so his pieces like much of what you have written about that time, ring like a bell to me. I used to stay at Ginsberg's appartment on Fell St. in SF when I was in town to score a kilo or 5 of weed, hanging out with junkies as old as my father who's veins had all collapsed and could only shoot up in their feet was interesting to say the least and that was before the war for me. As the Dead used to sing "what a long strange trip it's been". Merry Christmas to all 😎
1968 was certainly a tumultuous year. It was full of tragedies and change. I was a teenage hippie living in the San Francisco Bay Area, protesting the Viet Nam war and hanging out at the Fillmore and Avalon taking in all of the amazing music. I also remember watching the Apollo 8 broadcast, and am still in awe of the “Earthrise” photograph taken by the astronauts on that flight. After the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobbie Kennedy, as well as the continued devastation of the Viet Nam war, the Apollo 8 broadcast definitely brought some hope. Thank you for your story TC and reminding us of that consequential year. (Lucian Truscott too)
Yeah, the "earthrise" photo still "says it all." A little green and blue jewel in the vastness of space.
Thank you for the link to Lucian Truscott. I just subscribed to his Substack newsletter. And very best holiday wishes to you, Jurate and the kitties!
Wow! I was only 15 in '68. I didn't get to Berkeley until '73. (There, I did have President Obama's then future Science Advisor for a class called "Quantitative Aspects of Global Environmental Problems." John Holdren had a PhD in plasma physics, which he signed up for hoping to help save the world with fusion, but soon he realized that fusion was like Godot, and so switched his focus to other ways of saving the world, and he's still right about fusion.
the Fort Hood 43 story, was wonderful, as was the rest of that post. Brought me back to a world I was aware of at the time but alas, didn't really inhabit.
Were you going to link to Lucian Truscott's story? I didn't see one.
There's a link in the post now.
xmas '68 NYC. Wow!!!
Thanks!
You tell the best stories.
Yes, Beth, TC tells the best stories.
TC, this is the kind of story kids at least from middle school through high school and college should be reading about.
Please, please, keep telling us these stories.
The stories are all going in an upcoming book. Right?
What Dave said... This needs to be written and shared. It's important.
1968 was the year I began reading the paper--I mean, really reading the paper--for the first time. I wasn't yet 9 years old when RFK was assassinated. Even in my (then) Republican household the event was a shock, and I remember reading every word about it in the Houston Post. It sparked my interest in current events, and I began watching the national evening news with my parents.
OMG! I 'lived' that too!! You did a beautiful job of evoking what it was like (almost impossible to do!). You are a magnificent writer, and I'm so grateful to have 'found' you here! Happy Christmas, and God bless you. I hope your wife is doing better ... I hold her in my heart.
I will say to you what I said to Lucian: what an amazing story! Only you could live it and tell it like this. Thank you and Merry Christmas!
I was 10, and I sat with my folks watching that broadcast. It was the first time I recall seeing my Dad weep.
Damn, TC. I'm in tears. Thank you for your memories. Merry Christmas!
For sure 1968 was a screwed up mess…Tet, assassinations, LBJ vs. RFK, the fiasco at Chicago, cities on fire, Tricky Dick getting elected (barely), and so much other crap going down, but the Apollo 8 mission sorta balanced thing out somewhat. Like Burl Burlingame used to say “If you remember 1968, you weren’t there!”
Burl was right.
I do remember and I was there, in some form or other. Likely more detached than not…
I know about the Ft. Hood 43 TC. These were turbulent times in our
country with best friends against
each other, brother against brother.
My brother was in the navy in the
Gulf of Tonkin and my husband
was finishing advanced helicopter
training. Our flight group, all best
of friends, were preparing for the
separations that for some of us,
would last a lifetime.
Histories are always in our rear view
mirror. It's important we look at them and learn from them. If we turn away from them, in all their
their raw and undeniable truths,
we are condemned to repeat them.
Peace on Earth, good will to ALL
men and women, no matter their
color or ethnicity.