When the news of the shootings at Kent State University came across the news wires, we all found a great opportunity to draw deeply from the wellspring of outrage.We were already mad about the invasion of Cambodia (which, according to soldiers on the ground, happened long before it happened officially).
There were marches and rallies and gatherings, both organized and dis-. And then there was confusion. In the next week, young black people were shot, six in
Augusta, Georgia (with no photographs in their remembrance) and two at
Jackson State. We went again to the wellspring, but had nothing much left. We knew we should be even more outraged ("Remember Jackson State!" went the cry), but we weren't, really.
And, by the end of the month, crickets. Nothing much had been changed. Nothing much had been solved. The war went on. Nixon was driven from office not by our earnestedness, but by his own animus.
Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young got a single out of it, which, according to Rolling Stone (according to
Wikipedia), is the 385th greatest song of all time.
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