Baby
boomer babble
The
Sixties
The sixties was the defining decade for the boomers. It was not
a simple time. Dreams were dreamt, than squelched; a government was brought to
its knees, and the social morˇs of the World War II generation were under
attack. A war divided us, not unlike today, and our leadership lied and
deceived us, again, not unlike today. It was at the same time exciting,
depressing, fun, tense, stimulating, suffocating, moving, maddening, divisive
and uniting. The only difference between then and now is us. We don't seem to
get near as excited today.
The decade started with the election of the youngest President
we had ever had, John Fitzgerald Kennedy. At age 43, he was also the first
Catholic to hold the nationÕs highest office. He was charismatic, a good public
speaker, and capable of sparking optimism among the public, particularly young
people. As quickly as the spark ignited, it was snuffed out. On November 22,
1963, barely one thousand days into this presidency, President Kennedy was
assassinated in Dallas, Texas. I was a sophomore in high school, sitting in
plane geometry class, when the announcement came over the loud speakers. The
President had been killed. School was dismissed for the day. LBJ would become
our new President. He was no JFK. It was no longer a matter of asking what we
could do for our country. It was, what in the world is our country doing to us?
The single defining event in the 60's was the Vietnam War. It
affected every baby boomer, particularly the males. It united and divided,
inspired and discouraged, an entire generation. Some 58,000 Americans would
lose their lives in Vietnam. Two and one-half million Americans served, the
large number being made possible by the draft. It remains the longest war we
have ever been involved in, and, until recently, the most unpopular. Still, to
this day, no one knows what to think about the whole affair. What we do know is
that what was actually going on is not what we were told. It ends up having a
stunning resemblance to what is happening today in Iraq. From all of Vietnam,
nary a lesson was learned.
Many of the happenings of the sixties were in response to the
war. Anti-war activities were widespread. Freedom marches were taking place in
the South. Martin Luther King, Jr., was attempting to lead his people toward
equal treatment as human beings. He also was against the war, believing it was
hurting the poor, and that blacks were doing more than their fair share of the
fighting. In a devastating blow to both movements, Dr. King was killed in
Memphis, on April 4, 1968. Another charismatic, accomplished public speaker,
struck down in his prime. Riots broke out in many cities, as hope quickly
turned to despair and anger flushed out onto the streets. Who was to lead us
out of our status-quo, complacent acceptance of an unjust war and racist
society?
Lyndon Johnson had won the election in 1964, primarily on a
platform stating that he would de-escalate the war. By 1968, it became clear
that was not going to happen, and he was forced to not run for re-election on a
near loss to Eugene McCarthy, the anti-war candidate, in New Hampshire. Bobby
Kennedy would shortly enter the primary and was near winning it when he was
shot and killed on the night he won the California primary. Kennedy was young,
energetic, charismatic, against the war, and a friend of the poor. For the
third time in less than five years, our dreams and hopes for someone to lead us
away from war and racism were dashed by senseless violence. That night, June 6,
1968, I remember sitting and crying, wondering what was going on. How could
this happen for a third time? Who were we going to turn to for inspiration and
leadership? At the Democratic National Convention, in Chicago, the Democratic
Party folded, and turned towards the middle, making Hubert Humphreys the
nominee. The rest, as they say, is history.
With all this disappointment and frustration, a party was
needed. On August 15, 1969, in Woodstock, New York (actually Bethel), the
Woodstock Music and Art Festival took place. In the neighborhood of half a
million people showed up to listen to the best music of the day. It represented
a combination of good music, protest, and just plain fun, which at the time was
sadly needed. Woodstock is probably one of the biggest markers of the sixties.
As difficult as the sixties had been, it ended as it began, with shouts for
love, peace, and rock & roll.