50th Anniversary of Kent State
As I began ten years ago on the 40th anniversary of this tragedy: "This photograph is forever etched in the collective memory of those of us of a certain age. A young girl on bended knee with arms extended, as if singing an aria in some climatic scene from an Italian opera."
But of course this is not the Met. And lying there dead, is Jeffrey Miller; frozen in cold blood forever in time at age twenty. And he had company not far away.
Nine others were wounded and did survive. (Two of them have since passed away about ten years ago). A couple of them were also dramatically captured in photos that day.
John Cleary then.
Being attended to by students, whom he credits with saving his life.
John Cleary today.
Age 71. Retired architect.
Alan Canfora then. Least injured and most militant of those wounded.
Alan Canfora today. Age 71.
Following that Monday, May 4, 1970— 12:24 PM, the Nixon appointed President’s Commission on Campus Unrest (or the Scranton Commission as it came to be called) is unequivocal:
“Even if the guardsmen faced danger, it was not a danger that called for lethal force. The 61 shots by 28 guardsmen certainly cannot be justified. Apparently, no order to fire was given, and there was inadequate fire control discipline on Blanket Hill. The Kent State tragedy must mark the last time that, as a matter of course, loaded rifles are issued to guardsmen confronting student demonstrators.”
Given this summation, I've always found it curious that this tragedy was never referred to as the Kent State Massacre. Is the number gunned down not big enough? Do the confrontational circumstances not warrent such a descriptive?
As a point of reference, we have the Boston Massacre, considered to be a defining patriotic moment in our defiant history. Five were killed that day, including Crispus Attucks a runaway slave turned sailor who was the first to die, along with a couple of seventeen year old boys. And as described at ushistory.org it was...
“a street fight that occurred on March 5, 1770, between a ‘patriot’ mob, throwing snowballs, stones and sticks, at a squad of British soldiers.”
Absent the snowballs, the scene sounds eerily similar to Kent State in which four were killed. Though this is not to suggest that there are no distinctions between the two events. Just that one man’s massacre is another’s self defense; one man’s patriot is another man’s agitator.
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50th Anniversary of Kent State
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Quote of the Month
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Getting Reaquanted With My Bookcase
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Varick Street
Whether either of them will participate in the 50th anniversary commemoration, is unclear at this time. But those who have been scheduled for the event (via conferencing apps and pre-tapings etc.) include students wounded in 1970, David Crosby, Graham Nash, Jesse Colin Young, Tina Fey, Jerry Casale and Jeff Richmond. It will feature a variety of "online videos, exhibits, learning resources and other virtual events." Other possible participants are Jane Fonda (of course), Constitutional law expert Laurence Tribe and historian Eric Foner.
It can be viewed at https://www.kent.edu/may4kentstate50 Perhaps we might even hear Neil Young's song “Ohio,” inspired by that LIFE story featuring Filo’s images.
But, back to the future.
As for the girl on bended knee in that iconic Pulitzer Prize winning photo?
Mary Anne Vecchio is an Italian immigrant who was a runaway from Opa-locka, Florida. As to what a fourteen-year old kid so far from home would be doing on a college campus in the middle of an anti-war protest? “I was there because it was happening,” her answer. Which would have been the quintessential reason given for anyone's presence at anything, anywhere, anytime in the 60's.
Now 64 years old, Ms.Vecchio has spoken at many Kent State commemorations over the years, including the 40th. She finally got to meet John Filo, the photojournalism student who captured that moment, for the first time at the 25th Kent State anniversary conference at Emerson College in 1995.
They met again for the first time on the Kent State campus, when they had been invited to be guest speakers there at the 39th commemoration.
The only "graphic novel," I've ever read, if a comic book with perfect binding can be described as that. I don't remember how Superman died. By the looks of this cover, it wasn't kryptonite. And it wasn't pretty.
As I conclude this exercise born of quarantine (I wonder how Quentin Quarantino is doing), I think of the CapitalOne ad line "What's in your wallet?" And so to paraphrase... What's in your bookcase? Or on your nightstand? Or coffee table? If you care to share, I'm all eyes. And if it includes Fifty Shades of Grey, I swear I won't tell anybody.
"Goodnight noises everywhere"
May 2020
Getting Reacquainted With My Bookcase
From out of this pandemic, teleconferencing has emerged as a means to keep the “Talking Heads” talking. Journalists, politicians, pundits and medical experts can continue on air, offering their views and opinions from home. And when doing so, they usually speak in front of a bookcase. As if to add weight to what they have to say. Or shelves and shelves of books, which is even more impressive. Piers Morgan was one recent example, opting to speak his peace (piece) before a book extravaganza covering an entire wall, and divided into 21 white thick-shelved sections. But who’s counting.
George Stephanopoulos, who had COVID-19 himself (and his wife), seems to have been an exception. He chose to come to us live in a sprawling living room from his place in the Hamptons. Which was an annoying reminder that most of us don’t have that sort of "having-arrived" getaway. On the flip side, Steven Colbert, essentially a biting satirist, chose to have a bookcase just off to his left, in what appears to be a very tiny corner.
I find it all a distraction. In lieu of listening to what they have to say, at least at the outset, like a snoop--- which I didn’t think I had in me--- I'm first looking over their shoulder to check out the room decor, and even trying to decipher the titles of those books when camera proximity makes that possible. And I wonder, have they read all of these books? Or are they merely there for show? Though I have no problem with that, as I once expressed in these lines taken from a poem I wrote, The Book Shall Inherit the Earth: A Litany (July 2016 Muse-Letter).
Listeners returning to their own shelves and stacks
of books on display— inserted signals
announcing to the world
where they are coming from.
Doubling as furniture—
steal a glance at the décor.
Even assuming that they, and we, have read or scanned all the books in our possession, just how much of it is retained over time? Billy Collins in his poem Forgetfulness, muses on this very thing in that droll way as only he can. And although in his case it's in regard to the novel, it could be applied to any literary genre. He opens with:
The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of.
With all this in mind, I decided to become reacquainted with my own bookcase, which harbors most of the books I own. While I’ve shed many of them along the way---some discarded without flinching--- I have clung tenaciously to others for nearly 60 years. They have been lugged from apartment to apartment, house to house, coast to coast, around and through, a couple of marriages. Not to mention some other dramatic life changes.
Books are often reminders of watershed moments in our lives, in much the same way that certain songs can take us back in time. That said, I've forgotten some of the books I own. Or remember, but wonder when and why I bought them in the first place. And how they ever made it in and out of all those moving vans. Take Grapefruit by Yoko Ono (1998). Please.
WALK PIECE
Stir inside of your brains with a penis
until things are mixed well.
Take a walk.
1961 winter
So much for watershed moments.
Some books I re-encountered, gave pause and sparked a need for at least some thumbnail reflection. First, a shout out to those books with the most impressive spines. Their hardcovers dimmed and tattered by the several decades in my possession, they reek of the implicitness, that here resides a learned man.
They even have the smell of erudition what with their yellowed pages and overall decrepitness. Ghosts of academics past. Eighteenth Century Poetry & Prose (The Ronald Press Company 1956©)? And how did The Tragedy of Faust and other dramatic works by Goethe ever get into the house? I mean, fuhgeddaboudit!
A few thumbnail musings on a smattering of others...
Not all were acquired or reacquired decades ago. And some have been revisited not all that long ago.
Of course. Of course. Of course.
Give me a break. A 400 page poem and a 900 page novel in small print? Though parts of each were read.
And as to the former, a quote which I underlined:
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of a hell, a hell of heaven
Book I: lines 254-55
I'll cross this bridge
when I come to it.
I bought this book because...
well...I'm in it.
muse-letter \’myüz-‘le-tər noun
1: a personal message, inspired by a muse of one's own creation, addressed to a person or organization, in the course of which, the sender becomes absorbed in thought; especially turning something over in the mind meditatively and often inconclusively.
2: a letter from a poet, or one who envisions oneself as such, in which he or she “muses” on that which is perceived to be news, or newsworthy, usually in some ironic or absurd way.
Remainder of the site under reconstruction
Favorites, till this day...Lit class...
...required reading...Professor Sloan...made poetry accessible... made the classics relevant... walked us through Dante's excellent adventure.
A Frank Perspective on Quarantine
At the beginning of last month Ellen DeGeneres attempted a joke:
"One thing that I've learned from being in quarantine is that people --
this is like being in jail, is what it is,"
The backlash on social media was immediate and strong. Including that from those incarcerated, pointing out that being confined in a 24 million-dollar home hardly compares with being in jail.
Also, they might have also wondered, as I did, in which “jail” exactly was she imprisoned? She owns so many jails. But for the sake of argument, let’s assume it was this one in Trousdale Estates in Beverly Hills, not far from the Playboy mansion.
You can see how rough this would be. And add this to what she said regarding home ownership on the Today Show a couple of years ago.
"We buy a house and we love it, and we stay in it. Then we get a little bored because we like a different style or different aesthetic—and I love furniture and decorating—so if I find something else, and we make money, why not move to another house?"
Yes, don’t you hate it when you get bored with one mansion and you have to flip it, so you have something new to decorate? I know I do. But maybe that’s just me. And Ellen. And her wife Portia. (How tone deaf can you be?).
Yes, it’s inconvenient to have your everyday life restricted for an extended period of time, even if such restrictions are being enacted for the greater good. Even though, unfortunately, people are dying.
Governor Andrew Cuomo, in one of his “must-see TV” daily briefings--- replete with facts, specifics and homilies that everyday people can easily understand and relate to--- in addressing the antsiness we’re all feeling, offered this perspective:
Yes, this was helpful to keep in mind. But the best perspective of all was offered by my partner. She reminded me that there were those who were forced to “quarantine” under the most unfathomable conditions. And ultimately, all for naught. Something that I had not heard referenced anywhere throughout all of the news analysis and talking-heads programming, that I’ve been binge watching for well over a month.
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The Pandemic Middle Finger
CNN anchor Brooke Baldwin was hit hard by the coronavirus, missing three weeks at work as she sweated out her recovery at home. She returned this week.
Describing the ordeal, she used a blunt metaphor: “My body gave me the ‘middle finger.’”
While I haven’t been infected with coronavirus (to my knowledge), and therefore cannot relate to what Baldwin went through, I can relate to the metaphoric “middle finger” in another coronavirus related context.
Being given the middle finger is what I feel when I pass those on the street who are not abiding by Governor Cuomo’s order to wear a mask when you're out and about. So as to not only to protect yourself, but others in proximity. It’s not possible to keep a social distance of six feet or more the whole time when in public.
Depending on which direction I walk, the percentage of compliance will vary. Heading north along York Avenue 90-95% of the people I pass are wearing masks. Going south, it’s more like only two out of three. But in whatever direction, I'd say anecdotally, ninety percent of the unmasked, are young and male. Millennial men, especially.
To me, this is tantamount to them giving the middle finger to all of us who are abiding by the mask directive. This, despite all the sound reasons and facts provided by the Governor, health officials, and scientists showing a direct correlation between taking safety precautions and reducing the number of COVID-19 cases and deaths.
New York City is a hotbed for this virus for a number of obvious reasons, which Cuomo has repeated almost on a daily basis. And it's not predominantly those in nursing homes and who are near death's door anyway, as many might think. As I write this, 306 died in the state yesterday. 19 in nursing homes. And now some preliminary anti-body research suggests that more than one out of every five New Yorkers has been infected. So the need for taking all possible precautions is hardly a theoretical exercise.
Earlier this week, another man---hardly young; hardly a millennial---the Vice President of the United States, upon visiting Mayo Clinic, ignored the facility’s requirement that all visitors wear a mask. And everyone he met there was wearing one. Some may buy his rationale for his blatant non-compliance. But even putting health considerations aside for the moment, it's about courtesy and respect. When under another’s roof, at the very least, you play by their rules. This is something you learn in preschool.
We might run out of masks, but I guess middle fingers, literal and figurative, will never be in short supply.
Penguins Go on a Field Trip
I like penguins. Who doesn’t. (Probably Trump). And so a few years ago, when I heard that they were depressed in their home at the Sea Life Centre in the U.K., I took note (Penguins and Antidepressants MARCH, 2014 MUSE-LETTER).
But I wondered, how can you tell if a penguin is depressed? They always seem a bit lost as they wander about aimlessly in their tuxedos. All dressed up and no place to go. Making no eye contact. Indecisive.
And the solution to the problem? The same as it would be now for most forms of human depression—medicate! Immediately. So they were put on antidepressants. And voila!
"They're doing the trick so far, but we are all praying for the weather to change
and at least a few successive days of sunshine to give the penguins the tonic
they really need," the curator of the Sea Life Centre noted.
The Shedd Aquarium in Chicago took a different approach last month to potential penguin boredom or depression. What with the aquarium shut down because of COVID-19, and the place being essentially empty save for some necessary staffing, they decided to let their penguins roam free on the premises. In effect, to play tourist for a weekend. The thinking was that these “field trips” would provide enrichment for the animals while the aquarium remains closed. No joke.
Yankee ingenuity! Love it. You might say this was “Thinking outside the tank.”
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Featuring...
John Filo
1970
1995
2009
Quote(s) of the Month
Haven't seen the play...haven't read the book in anything near its entirety.
Miscellanea
Colorado Cuts Columbus; Celebrates Cabrini
No doubt this bit of news, with or without a pandemic, though historic, would go under the radar.
"March 10 (UPI) -- Colorado lawmakers passed a bill to replace Columbus Day with a new state holiday honoring Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini on the first Monday in October.
Cabrini Day is believed to be the first paid state holiday to recognize a woman…"
Mother Cabrini is a well known figure in Colorado's history, as she arrived there in 1902 and opened Queen of Heaven Orphanage for girls in north Denver a few years later.
In making other historical news in 1946, she became the first naturalized citizen of the U.S. to be canonized by the Roman Catholic Church… considered the “Patron Saint of Immigrants” (January 2020 Muse-Letter).
It comes at the expense of Christopher Columbus (who never touched ground anywhere on what was to become the United States). Colorado joins a number of states that have ceased to celebrate Columbus Day. They include Alaska, Hawaii, Oregon, South Dakota, Vermont. Add to that, the whole “Indigenous Peoples’ Day” movement which is gaining steam in major cities across the U.S. (Columbus: The Parade/The Voyage/The Statues OCTOBER, 2017 MUSE-LETTER).
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Does it matter that a few of these have not been opened since the Carter presidency? A few might have been required at college, or bought just because during a part time job at Harcourt Brace & World book publishers, I could get them at a steep discount? Who knows.
They have stood at the ready to serve as a reference for a quote, or to add gravitas to some point I’m desperately trying to make in some writing piece or poem. Though actually, they've been around long before I ever began putting pen to paper, or fingers to keys.
How about this paperback, first published not all that long after paperback books as a concept, made their first appearance in 1939. “It wasn’t until 1960 when revenues from paperbacks of all shapes and sizes finally surpassed those from hardcover sales.” (mentalfloss.com)
I bought it in 1961 brand new, for the princely sum of 35 cents. It physically mirrors its title. It too is short, and now after almost 60 years, it too looks like it's been through the Civil War. And when I wasn’t looking, its font seems to have grown smaller with time. But I’ll give it another shot. With a magnifying glass. Soon. What’s the rush?
There. That wasn't so hard. Was it?
finito
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