Ed Delahanty was born in Cleveland, Ohio on October 30, 1867, one of five brothers who made it to the Major Leagues (Frank, Jim, Joe, and Tom). Delahanty led the Major leagues, such as they were from 1888-1903, in hits once - though he racked up 200+ hits on four separate occasions - doubles five times, triples one, home runs twice back when hitting 19 home runs in a season meant you were a Baseball God. On July 13, 1896 Ed Delahaty was the second player to hit four home runs in a single game Delahanty led the league in RBI three times. He hit over .400 three times, though the Dead-Ball Era meant he led the league in batting average twice, including an 1899 season when he hit .410, still the 12th-highest Batting Average in baseball history. He was a fearsome hitter. One of the best right-handed hitters of all-time. And it wasn't just his bat, either: Delahanty played center field and stole 456 bases.
Sporting Life once remarked on "Big Ed:"
Delahanty is an awfully even, well-balanced player all around. You look at his batting and say well, that chap is valuable if he couldn't catch the measles, and then you look at his fielding and conclude that it wouldn't pay to let him go if he couldn't hit a bat bag.
While the average American worker made between $200-$400 a year. Delahanty's salary in Philadelphia was $3,000. A new baseball league - the American League began play in 1901 - and Delahanty was ready for better treatment and better pay. Accused of being an agent for the American League, Delahanty and eight of his teammates left the National League team in Philadelphia (13 of Delahanty's first 14 seasons were in Philly) and played for the Washington Senators in 1902 for a 33% pay increase ($4,000) and a $1,000 signing bonus.
On the field Ed Delahanty was fine. He hit .376/.453/.590 - the AL best in all categories, though the Senators finished 6th because their pitching was terrible. Off the field things were not fine.
Delahanty's wife got sick and Big Ed spent the couple's money binge-drinking and betting the horses. As his financial situation grew more dire, Delahanty signed a three-year deal with the Giants for either $6,000 or $8,000 per season, and a $4,000 advance. He never got the money. Prior to the 1903 season the National and American Leagues called a truce and agreed to honor each other's contracts. Delahanty's deal was canceled and his rights were returned to Washington. Not only that, he had to pay back the $4,000 advance he received. SABR did the math and found that Big Ed's $4,500 salary with Washington for 1903 included $600 that had already been advanced. So Delahanty went into 1903 thinking that his salary would be doubled and soon found that it would actually cost him $100 to play that year.
A reworked deal gave him some breathing room, but the stress (and the drinking) left Delahanty out of shape and in constant disagreement with manager Tom Loftus. Still, he was unhappy. On July 2, 1903 - after a stretch in which the Senators lost 29 out of 36 games, Delahanty left his teammates to go to New York in order to plead his case to League officials to let him out of his contract with Washington. He wouldn't make it.
Delahanty had five shots of whiskey and at one point tried to "drag a sleeping woman out of her berth by her ankles." That was the last straw of an already-disruptive train ride, and the conductor kicked him off the train at Bridgeburg, on the Canadian side of the International Bridge of Niagara Falls. "You're in Canada," warned Conductor John Cole, "so don't make any trouble." Delahanty slurred in response, "I don't care if I'm in Canada or dead."
A few hours later, Sam Kingston - night watchman on the International Bridge - happened upon Delahanty leaning against one of the trusses of the bridge and shined his lantern in Delahanty's face. It wasn't received very well. Delahanty lunged at Kingston, as his story went (and then changed a few times), and Delahanty fell from the bridge. Kingston didn't report the incident until the following morning.
When he didn't initially show up in New York, not even his wife was concerned, as she had grown accustomed to Delahanty going on full-blown benders. A week passed, and a body was found by Maid of the Mist (you know, the boat that Pam & Jim got married on) captain William LeBlond at Horseshoe Falls, 20 miles downstream. M.A. Green, a shareholder in the Senators, identified Delahanty's body despite his body's disfiguration and that most of his clothing had been torn off by the rushing water of Niagara Falls.
Big Ed's younger brother Frank was playing for Syracuse at the time, and went to Buffalo. He questioned how Delahanty's socks, shoes, and tie were all still in place but his diamond rings were missing. Frank definitely side-eyed Sam Kingston, and always believed there was foul play. Mainly because Kingston said Delahanty was carrying a lump of coal as a weapon, when there was no coal in the area, and also because it wasn't long before the body of a farmer was discovered by Leblond, minus the $1500 he had on him at the time.
Norine and the Delahanty family sued the Michigan Central Railroad for $20,000 later in July 1903. Ultimately the railroad paid Delahanty's widow Norine $3,000 and gave $2,000 to their daughter Florence to try to atone for Conductor Cole not waiting 3/4 of a mile until they were in Buffalo to kick Delahanty off the train, leaving him in safer hands. No one was ever charged in Delahanty's death. Delahanty was elected by the Old Timers' Committee into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1945.
Frank Delahanty played parts of four seasons (and not very well) in the American League from 1905-1908 and in the upstart Federal League in 1914 and 1915.
Jim Delahanty was a decent baseball player in the American and Federal Leagues from 1901-1915. He did not play major league baseball in 1903 - the year of Ed Delahanty's death - and 1913. He was a career .283 hitter.
Joe Delahanty appeared in 270 career games for St. Louis and hit .238 from 1907-1909.
Tom Delahanty appeared in 19 career games from 1894-1897.
Frank, Jim, and Joe are all buried together in Calvery Cemetery in Cleveland. Ed Delahanty just might be the only Hall of Famer to get murdered.
"It has been said that history repeats itself. This is perhaps not quite correct; it merely rhymes." - Theodore Reik
Friday, May 24, 2019
Richard Ashcroft vs. The Rolling Stones
Some of you know that I have an insatiable appetite for 1990s BritPop. I love it. Can't get enough. I can still give you the tracklisting for Kula Shaker's fantastic "K" album. And one of the biggest hits of 1997 was "Bitter Sweet Symphony" by The Verve.
The Verve formed in Wigan, England in 1990 and released a couple of middling albums prior to their breakout album "Urban Hymns." Those albums are okay. "Urban Hymns" goes hard, and it was all driven by "Bitter Sweet Symphony."
Perhaps you remember the iconic video. If not, here's a refresher:
The video has over 456 million plays on YouTube, the song has over 346 million streams on Spotify. The album reached #1 in the UK and #12 in the USA.
But there was a problem:
This is the Andrew Oldham Orchestra's version of "The Last Time," released in 1965. There was actually no real Andrew Oldham Orchestra - it was a side project headed up by Andrew Loog Oldham, the original manager and producer of the Rolling Stones, and some session musicians, as well as members of the Rolling Stones themselves. David Whitaker, who would go on to record several sessions with the BBC Radio Orchestra, arranged the strings, though he received no credit for the composition.
Andrew Loog Oldham - whose father was a Texan shot down over the English Channel in World War 2 - had set up Immediate Records, one of the first independent record labels in the UK. Some of the artists that Oldham signed/produced through Immeditate: Rod Stewart, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, the Small Faces, Humble Pie. Not a bad little stable.
That said, the original song released by the Rolling Stones in January 1965 was problematic at best. Here it is:
Notice that the orchestral version doesn't really sound anything like the Stones' version. "The Last Time" was the first song written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards and Phil Spector helped produce it, but it was AWFULLY SIMILAR to "This May Be The Last Time," released by The Staple Singers:
Keith Richards, in According to the Rolling Stones, acknowledged how close the two songs were, saying:
We came up with "The Last Time," which was basically re-adapting a traditional gospel song that had been sung by The Staple Singers, but luckily the song itself goes back into the mists of time.
The album was released by Decca Records and "The Last Time" went to #1 on the UK Singles Chart, and topped out at #9 in the USA. Anyhow, when Bitter Sweet Symphony dropped, it led to legal issues.
Namely, Allen Klein - the business manager from the Rolling Stones - sued The Verve for plagiarism of the orchestral version of "The Last Time." Decca Records and the Rolling Stones (led by Klein) agreed to let The Verve use the five-note sequence in exchange for 50% of the royalties. Klein said The Verve used more than that. Klein's company, ABKCO Records, filed a lawsuit. Then Andrew Loog Oldham filed his own lawsuit against The Verve. Bassist Simon Jones:
We were told it was going to be a 50/50 split. Then [when] they saw how well the record was doing, they rung up and said, "We want 100 percent or take it out of the shops," you don't have much choice.
EMI Records - who were about to release "Urban Hymns" - met with Klein hoping that he would grant the license. The result was that, while there was an agreement to sample "The Last Time," it used too much of it. Ashcroft had to sell his rights to the song for $1,000. Oldham, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards got songwriting credits for Bitter Sweet Symphony, and Oldham got $1.7 million. Richard Ashcroft and The Verve received no royalties for one of the biggest hits of the last 25 years. After the meeting with EMI, Klein told photographer Mick Rock:
I was very bad today.
Oldham told Uncut in 2008:
As for Richard Ashcroft, well, I don't know how an artist can be severely damaged by that experience. Songwriters have learned to call songs their children, and he thinks he wrote something. He didn't. I hope he's got over it. It takes a while.
Ashcroft hadn't. Back in November, Richard Ashcroft - the lead singer of The Verve - appeared on a Consequence of Sound podcast and was still salty about it:
I'm coming for that money. Someone stole God-knows-how-many million dollars off me in 1997, and they've still got it.
Yesterday the songwriting credit was given back to Ashcroft. The Rolling Stones, in a statement:
Of course there was a huge financial cost but any songwriter will know that there is a huge emotional price greater than the money in having to surrender the composition of one of your own songs. Richard has endured that loss for many years.
And there's the story about how Allen Klein, Andrew Loog Oldham, and the Stones made a ton of money off of a Verve song sampling a fairly-unrelated orchestral version of a song (without giving proper credit to the arranger) that could have possibly been plagiarized from a Staple Singers song.
The Verve formed in Wigan, England in 1990 and released a couple of middling albums prior to their breakout album "Urban Hymns." Those albums are okay. "Urban Hymns" goes hard, and it was all driven by "Bitter Sweet Symphony."
Perhaps you remember the iconic video. If not, here's a refresher:
The video has over 456 million plays on YouTube, the song has over 346 million streams on Spotify. The album reached #1 in the UK and #12 in the USA.
But there was a problem:
This is the Andrew Oldham Orchestra's version of "The Last Time," released in 1965. There was actually no real Andrew Oldham Orchestra - it was a side project headed up by Andrew Loog Oldham, the original manager and producer of the Rolling Stones, and some session musicians, as well as members of the Rolling Stones themselves. David Whitaker, who would go on to record several sessions with the BBC Radio Orchestra, arranged the strings, though he received no credit for the composition.
Andrew Loog Oldham - whose father was a Texan shot down over the English Channel in World War 2 - had set up Immediate Records, one of the first independent record labels in the UK. Some of the artists that Oldham signed/produced through Immeditate: Rod Stewart, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, the Small Faces, Humble Pie. Not a bad little stable.
That said, the original song released by the Rolling Stones in January 1965 was problematic at best. Here it is:
Notice that the orchestral version doesn't really sound anything like the Stones' version. "The Last Time" was the first song written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards and Phil Spector helped produce it, but it was AWFULLY SIMILAR to "This May Be The Last Time," released by The Staple Singers:
Keith Richards, in According to the Rolling Stones, acknowledged how close the two songs were, saying:
We came up with "The Last Time," which was basically re-adapting a traditional gospel song that had been sung by The Staple Singers, but luckily the song itself goes back into the mists of time.
The album was released by Decca Records and "The Last Time" went to #1 on the UK Singles Chart, and topped out at #9 in the USA. Anyhow, when Bitter Sweet Symphony dropped, it led to legal issues.
Namely, Allen Klein - the business manager from the Rolling Stones - sued The Verve for plagiarism of the orchestral version of "The Last Time." Decca Records and the Rolling Stones (led by Klein) agreed to let The Verve use the five-note sequence in exchange for 50% of the royalties. Klein said The Verve used more than that. Klein's company, ABKCO Records, filed a lawsuit. Then Andrew Loog Oldham filed his own lawsuit against The Verve. Bassist Simon Jones:
We were told it was going to be a 50/50 split. Then [when] they saw how well the record was doing, they rung up and said, "We want 100 percent or take it out of the shops," you don't have much choice.
EMI Records - who were about to release "Urban Hymns" - met with Klein hoping that he would grant the license. The result was that, while there was an agreement to sample "The Last Time," it used too much of it. Ashcroft had to sell his rights to the song for $1,000. Oldham, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards got songwriting credits for Bitter Sweet Symphony, and Oldham got $1.7 million. Richard Ashcroft and The Verve received no royalties for one of the biggest hits of the last 25 years. After the meeting with EMI, Klein told photographer Mick Rock:
I was very bad today.
Oldham told Uncut in 2008:
As for Richard Ashcroft, well, I don't know how an artist can be severely damaged by that experience. Songwriters have learned to call songs their children, and he thinks he wrote something. He didn't. I hope he's got over it. It takes a while.
Ashcroft hadn't. Back in November, Richard Ashcroft - the lead singer of The Verve - appeared on a Consequence of Sound podcast and was still salty about it:
I'm coming for that money. Someone stole God-knows-how-many million dollars off me in 1997, and they've still got it.
Yesterday the songwriting credit was given back to Ashcroft. The Rolling Stones, in a statement:
Of course there was a huge financial cost but any songwriter will know that there is a huge emotional price greater than the money in having to surrender the composition of one of your own songs. Richard has endured that loss for many years.
And there's the story about how Allen Klein, Andrew Loog Oldham, and the Stones made a ton of money off of a Verve song sampling a fairly-unrelated orchestral version of a song (without giving proper credit to the arranger) that could have possibly been plagiarized from a Staple Singers song.
Labels:
Copyright,
Rolling Stones,
The Verve
Saturday, May 4, 2019
The Jackson State Killings
If I told you about that time in May 1970 when law enforcement officers opened fire on American college students, your mind would probably drift to Kent State University, in which four students where shot and killed at an anti-Vietnam War protest. But eleven days after Kent State, there was another instance, and it has flown under the radar for almost 50 years.
While Jackson State is perhaps best known as being Walter Payton's alma mater, the university has a long history as one of the larger Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs). Founded towards the end of Reconstruction in 1877 in Natchez (as the Natchez Seminary), the school relocated to Jackson in 1882 and was renamed Mississippi Negro Training School. Jackson State also went by Jackson College for Negro Teachers, Jackson State College, and, finally, Jackson State University in 1974. The band, the Sonic Boom of the South, is one of the most famous, as well as the Prancing J-Settes danceline.
Named after Reconstruction-era congressman John R. Lynch (Mississippi's first African-American Speaker of the House and one of the first African-American congressmen - 1873-1877 - ever), Lynch Street cut the Jackson State campus in half. On the evening of May 14, 1970 - ten days after Kent State - a group of about 100 black students gathered on Lynch Street apparently to protest the expansion of the Vietnam War into Cambodia though there were also demonstrations against Mississippi governor John Bell Williams, as they had done for several consecutive nights.
Williams is an "interesting" cat. A former WW2 pilot who graduated from Ole Miss' law school and would go on to be Mississippi's youngest congressman, elected to the House of Representatives at 27. Williams was a democrat who gave a dramatic speech on the floor of the House of Representatives criticizing the Supreme Court's decision to desegregate schools in Brown v. Board of Education and called it "Black Monday" and encouraged Southern states to attempt to nullify the ruling, having apparently not learned that the South attempting to nullify a federal order was batting .000 over the course of American history.
As the Democratic Party became the party of civil rights, Williams drifted further away. He fundraised and endorsed Barry Goldwater for the 1964 election, delivering 87% of Mississippi's vote to Goldwater. The Democratic Party stripped him of party leadership in 1965. He was re-elected in 1966 and ran for governor in 1968.
Fifteen years after the Brown decision, Mississippi still had a dual public school system in which white kids went to one school system and black kids went to another. Separate yes, equal no. After the 1964 Civil Rights Act, Mississippi leaders chose (and by "chose" of course I mean, "reluctantly accepted") a freedom-of-choice method of letting any student go to any school in their district. "Freedom of choice - what can be more American? Or more democratic?" they yelled, conveniently forgetting that black families who chose white schools for their kids were regularly intimidated following the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.
It was mainly a method designed to allow for token integration and more to avoid lawsuits. The 1968 Green v. County School Board saw the Supreme Court rule that this method was ineffective and, thus, no longer an out to resist integration. The next year the Supreme Court ruled in Alexander v. Holmes County Board of Education that all schools in the South (but with a very clear side-eye to 30 Mississippi school districts) had to terminate the dual school system. And so, Governor John Bell Williams said in early 1970 that he would simply use his power to create a private school system to make sure the white kids were educated separately. The Klan held an anti-integration rally in Meridian. White parents in Hattiesburg protested the federal order to integrate immediately.
Schools integrated, but only in theory. At DeKalb High School, white students went to classes in a separate wing from black students and changed classes based on whether the bell was a "white bell" or a "black bell."
So there was more to the gathering on Lynch Street than American involvement in Cambodia. Along Lynch Street, white motorists passing through the middle of campus had a history of harassing Jackson State students going to class. The police were called on the night of May 13 when students threatened to burn down the ROTC building. The gathering threw rocks at the cars of white people driving through campus.
At about 9:30pm on May 14 a report made its way through the group of about 100 students that Charles Evers - brother of Medgar Evers, the first African-American mayor of a biracial Mississippi town (Fayette) in the post-Reconstruction era who had been elected in 1969, and the NAACP's 1969 Man of the Year - had been assassinated, with his wife. A student, not enrolled at Jackson State, set a dump truck on fire. The crowd jeered at the firemen, who requested police backup.
Seventy-five Jackson PD officers and Mississippi State Troopers cordoned off 30 blocks around Jackson State's campus and marched, armed with "carbines, submachine guns, shotguns, service revolvers, and some personal weapons," towards Alexander Hall, a large dorm for women. There was a standoff and of course reports differ as to what happened to set it off. There was a report that claimed there was a sniper in the dorm (investigators later found "insufficient evidence" of that claim). Another said there was a shot fired, but the direction of the shot was undetermined. Others said a bottle was thrown, causing a large pop.
Regardless, at 12:05am on May 15, 1970, police opened fire for over 30 seconds on the dorm and the crowd. When the cease-fire order was given, 460 bullets were found in Alexander Hall, and 160 in the stairwell area alone, where students were trying to enter the building. Two were dead and twelve more were injured.
Philip Lafayette Gibbs, 21, a pre-law major from Ripley, Mississippi with an 18-month old son, had been shot in the head four times.
James Earl Green, 17, was a senior at Jim Hill High School and was taking a shortcut home from the grocery store where he worked when the shooting took place. He was shot in the chest.
Ambulances were not called until the police picked up their shell casings. The city police and state troopers left campus and were replaced by the National Guard. Jackson officials denied that city police were involved. The Jackson City Council ruled to close off Lynch Street to thru-traffic and rename Lynch Street "John R. Lynch Street" to denote the former Congressman from Mississippi. After Lynch Street was closed, a plaza was built near Alexander Street, named Gibbs-Green Plaza in honor of the two who had died.
In June 1970 President Nixon established the President's Commission on Campus Unrest. After testimony from faculty, staff, administration, and students, no one was arrested or convicted of a crime related to the attack.
While the attacks at Kent State and Jackson State were officially the result of an anti-war protest that escalated, it's worth mentioning that there are many different tensions to which people respond: what many felt was an unnecessary war, or racial inequality and generations of targeted aggression, frustrations over both led to deaths at multiple college campuses in 1970.
While Jackson State is perhaps best known as being Walter Payton's alma mater, the university has a long history as one of the larger Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs). Founded towards the end of Reconstruction in 1877 in Natchez (as the Natchez Seminary), the school relocated to Jackson in 1882 and was renamed Mississippi Negro Training School. Jackson State also went by Jackson College for Negro Teachers, Jackson State College, and, finally, Jackson State University in 1974. The band, the Sonic Boom of the South, is one of the most famous, as well as the Prancing J-Settes danceline.
Named after Reconstruction-era congressman John R. Lynch (Mississippi's first African-American Speaker of the House and one of the first African-American congressmen - 1873-1877 - ever), Lynch Street cut the Jackson State campus in half. On the evening of May 14, 1970 - ten days after Kent State - a group of about 100 black students gathered on Lynch Street apparently to protest the expansion of the Vietnam War into Cambodia though there were also demonstrations against Mississippi governor John Bell Williams, as they had done for several consecutive nights.
Williams is an "interesting" cat. A former WW2 pilot who graduated from Ole Miss' law school and would go on to be Mississippi's youngest congressman, elected to the House of Representatives at 27. Williams was a democrat who gave a dramatic speech on the floor of the House of Representatives criticizing the Supreme Court's decision to desegregate schools in Brown v. Board of Education and called it "Black Monday" and encouraged Southern states to attempt to nullify the ruling, having apparently not learned that the South attempting to nullify a federal order was batting .000 over the course of American history.
As the Democratic Party became the party of civil rights, Williams drifted further away. He fundraised and endorsed Barry Goldwater for the 1964 election, delivering 87% of Mississippi's vote to Goldwater. The Democratic Party stripped him of party leadership in 1965. He was re-elected in 1966 and ran for governor in 1968.
Fifteen years after the Brown decision, Mississippi still had a dual public school system in which white kids went to one school system and black kids went to another. Separate yes, equal no. After the 1964 Civil Rights Act, Mississippi leaders chose (and by "chose" of course I mean, "reluctantly accepted") a freedom-of-choice method of letting any student go to any school in their district. "Freedom of choice - what can be more American? Or more democratic?" they yelled, conveniently forgetting that black families who chose white schools for their kids were regularly intimidated following the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.
It was mainly a method designed to allow for token integration and more to avoid lawsuits. The 1968 Green v. County School Board saw the Supreme Court rule that this method was ineffective and, thus, no longer an out to resist integration. The next year the Supreme Court ruled in Alexander v. Holmes County Board of Education that all schools in the South (but with a very clear side-eye to 30 Mississippi school districts) had to terminate the dual school system. And so, Governor John Bell Williams said in early 1970 that he would simply use his power to create a private school system to make sure the white kids were educated separately. The Klan held an anti-integration rally in Meridian. White parents in Hattiesburg protested the federal order to integrate immediately.
Schools integrated, but only in theory. At DeKalb High School, white students went to classes in a separate wing from black students and changed classes based on whether the bell was a "white bell" or a "black bell."
So there was more to the gathering on Lynch Street than American involvement in Cambodia. Along Lynch Street, white motorists passing through the middle of campus had a history of harassing Jackson State students going to class. The police were called on the night of May 13 when students threatened to burn down the ROTC building. The gathering threw rocks at the cars of white people driving through campus.
At about 9:30pm on May 14 a report made its way through the group of about 100 students that Charles Evers - brother of Medgar Evers, the first African-American mayor of a biracial Mississippi town (Fayette) in the post-Reconstruction era who had been elected in 1969, and the NAACP's 1969 Man of the Year - had been assassinated, with his wife. A student, not enrolled at Jackson State, set a dump truck on fire. The crowd jeered at the firemen, who requested police backup.
Seventy-five Jackson PD officers and Mississippi State Troopers cordoned off 30 blocks around Jackson State's campus and marched, armed with "carbines, submachine guns, shotguns, service revolvers, and some personal weapons," towards Alexander Hall, a large dorm for women. There was a standoff and of course reports differ as to what happened to set it off. There was a report that claimed there was a sniper in the dorm (investigators later found "insufficient evidence" of that claim). Another said there was a shot fired, but the direction of the shot was undetermined. Others said a bottle was thrown, causing a large pop.
Regardless, at 12:05am on May 15, 1970, police opened fire for over 30 seconds on the dorm and the crowd. When the cease-fire order was given, 460 bullets were found in Alexander Hall, and 160 in the stairwell area alone, where students were trying to enter the building. Two were dead and twelve more were injured.
Philip Lafayette Gibbs, 21, a pre-law major from Ripley, Mississippi with an 18-month old son, had been shot in the head four times.
James Earl Green, 17, was a senior at Jim Hill High School and was taking a shortcut home from the grocery store where he worked when the shooting took place. He was shot in the chest.
Ambulances were not called until the police picked up their shell casings. The city police and state troopers left campus and were replaced by the National Guard. Jackson officials denied that city police were involved. The Jackson City Council ruled to close off Lynch Street to thru-traffic and rename Lynch Street "John R. Lynch Street" to denote the former Congressman from Mississippi. After Lynch Street was closed, a plaza was built near Alexander Street, named Gibbs-Green Plaza in honor of the two who had died.
In June 1970 President Nixon established the President's Commission on Campus Unrest. After testimony from faculty, staff, administration, and students, no one was arrested or convicted of a crime related to the attack.
While the attacks at Kent State and Jackson State were officially the result of an anti-war protest that escalated, it's worth mentioning that there are many different tensions to which people respond: what many felt was an unnecessary war, or racial inequality and generations of targeted aggression, frustrations over both led to deaths at multiple college campuses in 1970.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)