July/August 2008
Letters to the Editor
Spring ’68
This May marked the 40th anniversary of the Columbia student riot, a historical microcosm in which I actively participated as a member of the Majority Coalition opposed to the building occupiers. This event led to some immediate and long-term positive changes at Columbia, but it also caused a great deal of schism, alienation and upset to students and alumni. Negative effects of these happenings were apparent for many years afterward in terms of public image, financial support and perception of our school. And however spun, because of political rhetoric Harlem lost access to a community facility that it still does not have and it desperately needs.
The intervening years have moderated the positions of most of the participants, myself included. While some of the ’68 participants still mistakenly believe that their actions “shook the world,” I was and am more impressed by the demonstration of activism on the part of moderate students who would have preferred not to be involved but were forced to action by those trying to abrogate their rights. Each to his own.
I am, however, disappointed in the de facto, if not official, disavowal of this most historic happening by our various administrations. For good or ill, this was the most significant physical occurrence in the 20th century on our campus. Yet it is dismissed or ignored, seemingly as an embarrassment. I contrast this to the way in which UC Berkeley has embraced its ’64 experience as something that marks it as unique and has become for it a badge of historical honor. Columbia has no less a claim to this position than Berkeley, and while the Bollinger administration has acknowledged the 40th anniversary, perhaps a more proactive stance would be appropriate.
The documentary film A Time To Stir, by Paul Cronin, goes a long way toward placing this event in proper historical context as well as correcting some of the misperceptions that, over time, have accrued to ’68. I recommend that you see it if you can, although at present it is a work in progress.
Rich Forzani ’66
Glen Rock, N.J.
I was very interested to read the May/June issue. In spring 1968, I was a medical officer attached to an artillery battalion of the 25th Infantry Division stationed in the Michelin rubber plantation, northwest of Saigon. I did not become aware of the campus demonstrations and their aftermath until months later. The exigencies of my duties as an army doctor and the military activity in the area limited the amount of stateside news.
Within the Family: Our coverage of Spring ’68 in May/June and the events that were held on campus to mark the 40th anniversary of that period resulted in, not unexpectedly, an outpouring of letters. Since I wrote about those events in May/June, I’ve chosen to use the space normally devoted to the editor’s column to share more of your letters.
Looking back, I wonder if the demonstrations and occupation of campus buildings were solely about the proposed gym and the war in Vietnam, or to some extent an exercise in youthful exuberance, hubris and spring fever. Was there really a great concern for the community surrounding Morningside Park? Granted, the responses of the University administration and NYC’s Tactical Patrol Force were inappropriate at best and excessively violent at worst. But how many children from the surrounding Harlem neighborhood were fighting and dying in the jungles, rice paddies and mountains of Vietnam? I use the word “children” because many combat soldiers were only 18 and 19 years old, at a time when the voting age was 21. Unlike almost all of the Columbia demonstrators, these kids could not get draft deferments or stateside jobs. Neither could large numbers of young men from the neighborhoods or barrios of the big cities, or from the farms and small towns across America. Sadly, many of them were vilified by their fellow citizens and then failed by the V.A. and civilian medical establishment when they returned.
Putting the events that occurred at Columbia in 1968 in perspective is difficult, especially in view of today’s political, economic and military urgencies and conflicts. However, 40 years later, I can only hope that my fellow Columbians and I can “do the right thing,” and treat the young men and women who are serving our country with the care and respect they deserve.
Dr. Michael T. Charney ’62
San Jose, Calif.
I was disappointed in the amount of space, time and effort that was accorded the 1968 travesty in the May/June issue. No one involved in those events covered themselves with honor and glory (if those are the correct words) during those days to warrant revisiting the matter 40 years later.
But the College and the University took a huge public relations hit that took years to overcome, and, to me, it just doesn’t seem right to bring it all up again. It was one of the University’s darkest hours, and should be left to the historians, not to a publication like CCT, to discuss.
Some things are best forgotten.
Lee J. Dunn Jr. ’65
Boston
Spring 1968 revealed to me that I had learned something at Columbia — the location of campus pay phones. A reporter for Reuters news agency, I covered the events on Morningside Heights with pad and pen and a pocketful of dimes and nickels with which to call my office. Those were every reporter’s tools — no cell or satellite phones or credit or calling cards for us, certainly no computers or digital recorders. As a recent alumnus, I had an edge on the competition when it came time to dictate updates to the running story to someone at a typewriter at the other end of the phone. While other reporters raced to the very visible phone booths in the lobbies of the residence halls and in Ferris Booth Hall, I headed for such solitary and obscure locations as the basement of Low Library, near the rowing tanks, and the hallway outside the art history library on a high floor of Schermerhorn. I never had to resort to the frequent tactic of posting a handmade and bogus out-of-order sign on a phone to reserve it for future use.
Jerry Oster ’64
Chapel Hill, N.C.
I read the May/June issue with great interest. It is a masterpiece. It is summa cum laude.
Art Thomas ’50
Greenwich, Conn.
Over and over again, I find my breath taken away by individuals insufferably impressed by their own impeccable morality, who cannot resist any opportunity to bash the state of Israel. Now we have the spectacle of Steve Goldfield ’68 [May/June], who congratulates himself for spending his “life to date trying to undermine … corrupt institutions in any way [he] can.” But where does he find causes worthy of his life’s work? In China, or Russia, or Sudan, scenes of unspeakable brutality, suppression and mass murder? No, none of these.
Yes, though, to Israeli apartheid.
Please, Steve, give the Israel-bashing a rest. You don’t have to look much past Israel to see real apartheid: in Jordan, where a Jew cannot become a citizen, or in Saudi Arabia, where it is illegal to be a Jew in any identifiable way. And if you’re not much concerned with anti-Jewish discrimination, there’s always the plight of women in North Africa, or Tibetans in China. Surely you can find something to distract yourself from tiny Israel, besieged for its entire history by hostile neighbors who make no bones about seeking to destroy it.
Joseph Kushick ’69, ’75 GSAS
Amherst, Mass.
Picture 6 in the photo spread on pp. 32–33 of the May/June issue says all that needs to be said — a bunch of Marxists and hooligans looking for some way to embarrass Columbia. Would any of those who wrote so glowingly of what transpired in April 1968 care to explain what it was that Lenin and Fidel “won”? Perhaps I have been reading the wrong history books all these years that document the appalling results of the takeovers of their respective countries.
I didn’t read any recollections condemning what occurred 40 years ago. Does that mean everyone on campus at that time remembers the events fondly? Too bad there weren’t more Dean Barretts around to scare off the “brave” rabble.
Do any from the Class of ’68 know the background of Dwight MacDonald, who spoke at the counter-Commencement and was a prominent voice during the sit-ins? He wrote frequent articles in the Partisan Review, acknowledged to be an organ of the Communist Party in America. Despite attempts by some to cast him as a “combative journalist and activist,” he was just another unremarkable fellow traveler attempting to disparage our country.
Columbia has never recovered from this disgraceful time, right up to the recent elevation of Mr. Ahmadinejad as an important voice that Columbia should honor. I wonder how many U.N. resolutions will be passed before action is taken against his regime? Or how often will “useful idiots” raise their voices in support of Iran to discourage any U.N. action? After all, if Mr. Ahmadinejad hates the United States of America, he can’t be that bad.
Don Beattie ’51
Jacksonville, Fla.
I was simply delighted with your “Memories, and Lessons, from Spring ’68” [Within the Family, May/June]. I agree with many of the things you said. Perhaps you will be interested in a letter of mine that appeared in amNew York:
“There is something missing from most accounts of the Columbia University riots that took place in 1968. Two policemen were seriously injured. Frank Gucciardi was standing under a balcony at Hamilton Hall when a student jumped and landed on him. Gucciardi was paralyzed for three years [from the waist down] and then recovered. Bernard Wease was kicked in the chest at Fayerweather Hall and suffered permanent heart damage.
“Students at Columbia closed the University for a week. Shortly after that, students in Paris closed the Sorbonne. And in China, the Cultural Revolution closed all high schools and colleges all over the country. Movements that are simultaneously irresponsible and harmful occasionally sweep the world. Playwright Eugene Ionesco wrote about this in his play Rhinoceros, in which people turn into rhinoceroses because everybody else is doing it.”
George Jochnowitz ’58, ’60 GSAS, ’67 GSAS
New York City
CCT’s retrospective on 1968 was interesting. What I found most striking was the almost adolescent tenor of self-righteousness and self-congratulation expressed by a good portion of the participants. One would have thought the intervention of many years might have added a measure of grace, even humility, to perspective. Though fascinating, the retelling of events provided little that was worthy of veneration (much less emulation). However, I would like to thank Colonel [Stanley G.] Maratos ’53 and Captain [Richard B.] Curtis ’62 for giving the best years of their lives to our country even if many imbued with the “Spirit of ’68” were too self-indulgent to follow, much less appreciate, their selfless and courageous example.
Arthur “Grant” Lacerte Jr. ’88
Kissimmee, Fla.
At the time [of Spring ’68], I was a professor of economic geography. My best friend, who was a 1938 classmate, Richard “Dick” Herpers, was secretary of the University. His office was in the southwest corner of the main floor in Low Memorial Library.
I was not at all happy at the thought that Mark Rudd ’69 and others wanted to tear the University apart. So, on those nights when a rally was held, I went from my apartment on Morningside Drive to [Dick’s] office, which was a kind of central listening post, ready to man the barricades against the threatened invasions.
On at least two occasions, word was received that a large group was assembling somewhere down Broadway and was about to march to the campus to wreak havoc. One time the figure was 10,000; another time it was 1,000 blacks. None of these threats materialized.
In time, the troubles simmered down and life went on as usual. Other universities also experienced disruptions. A few of them had buildings burnt; we only had them occupied.
Harry Coleman ’46, dean of students, was temporarily confined to his office in Hamilton Hall. Incidentally, when I was assistant dean in the College — one of the first two assistant deans in the University, the other being my friend Wes Hennessy ’51 GS in Engineering — I was in charge of scholarships and when they hit the $1 million mark we needed more manpower. Harry started as my assistant.
Some of the Ivy League colleges succumbed to pressure to change degree requirements. Columbia rejected any such changes and was smart enough to retain its Core Curriculum, which continues to receive kudos.
William A. “Bill” Hance ’38, ’49 GSAS, Professor Emeritus
Nantucket, Mass.
Sundial
A quiz for the most astute, observant and knowledgeable Columbians:
In May/June, there is a picture of our beloved sundial (the full sundial, not just the base that remains today). Can you find it? (Note: I am not counting the picture above the table of contents, in which, below the policeman’s left elbow, we can see a jumble of cars and headlights — and perhaps a bit of the sundial as well.)
For answer, see bottom of page.
Bill Cole ’84
Sitges (Barcelona), Spain
Musicophilia
In regard to the article on Dr. Oliver Sacks concerning music [Bookshelf, March/April], I would say musicophilia among humans is an uneven phenomenon — it is estimated that but 3 percent of New Yorkers listen to classical music. I doubt that many appreciate Kern, Rogers, Gershwin et al. Why is this? Freud stated that meaningful art must reach the target emotionally. Rap reaches many, symphonic music less by far.
Music is in itself a language. Its interpretation and response thereto is, of course, cerebral and apperceptive, for the auditory nerve is strictly limited in its perception. The apperception is not limited to the temporal lobe. The writer has had patients with amusicalia resulting from posteriorly placed lesions on either side, although left hemisphere dominant for language function. Formed musical hallucination does not usually occur in temporal lobe lesions — they are unformed and projected to the opposite side. Formed ones usually occur in psychosis with no predilection as to lateralization.
All cultures do not have a musical substrata. None is described in Kabloona, the author’s (Gontran De Poncins) experience among the Inuit.
To understand Dr. Cinora’s obsession with music, he would have to be psychoanalyzed, for the brain trauma sustained is nonspecific. Why the musical obsession occurred would be a matter of unconscious psychodynamics, notably suppression.
Would Paganini’s first violin concerto have evoked in Dr. Sacks what Mendelssohn’s did?
One should keep in mind that abstract language is the father of abstract thinking, a necessity for composition and appreciation of music, idiot-savants aside, as well as the function of figure-ground (segregated unit), of major importance in apperception.
One should not overly localize brain function. If one is reminded of Freud’s observation that the finite number of nerve fibers in the spinal cord cannot anatomically explain all its functions and apply this to the brain, it’s enough to boggle the mind — at least mine.
Dr. G.H. Klingon ’42
New York City
Answer to Sundial question: On page 45 of May/June is reproduced the cover of a new edition of a book by Federico García Lorca. In the picture on the right, the poet is seated in front of a large dark marble sphere. Bingo!