In May 1970 I was a graduate student at Ohio State, just finishing my Ph.D. in inorganic chemistry. As I was not taking any classes, the campus disturbances were more of a nuisance than anything else. Many of my colleagues had found themselves in places where they took in an uncomfortable amount of tear or pepper gas, but my activities were localized in and around my Evans lab, the chemistry library and my room in Jones Graduate Tower.

Then, one evening, I was working in the chemistry library and I noticed that I was alone, totally by myself. As it was getting toward dinner time, I packed up my notebooks, dropped them off at my lab and headed off toward Jones a few hundred feet away. As I left the building it became clear that something was amiss. No one was around, and it was as quiet as a tomb – no car traffic within earshot. I ducked into the shadows and found my way back to the dorm. Subsequently, I found that the campus was under dusk-to-dawn curfew, and I could have been arrested.

Several of us attended a rally for graduate students to discuss the current unrest. I was taken aback by the number of speakers who were very angry, very dissatisfied and demanding change. The only speech that made much sense to me was from a very conservative colleague in chemistry, known (fairly) affectionately as “Wayne the Fascist”, who I rarely agreed with about anything. Any comments that I made were labeled apolitical. I was convinced that the University would soon be shut down.
 
So it was. In Jones Tower the announcement was made via hand-written sheets taped to the elevator. The folks on my floor of Jones Tower were very close to one another and remain so to the present. It was not clear what was going to happen to us as a result of this disruption in our academic career. Would we see each other again any time soon or would we not? I had accepted a postdoctoral appointment at the University of Virginia for September, but now, would I be eligible? So, we did what any group of students would do under the circumstances – we partied.

It was a great party; we started by heading to a local theater and seeing a movie made for such times: M.A.S.H. After the movie we found our way to someone’s home where we drank some beer and watched the [New York] Knicks’ NBA playoff game. I doubt any of us had a problem sleeping after that very therapeutic evening, though we had to leave OSU by noon the next day.

What does one do in a situation like that? My friends from the Midwest went home and waited, taking roommates or friends from far away with them. I was stuck. I had received my draft notice, and my pre-induction physical was to be in Columbus in a few days. One of my former roommates, Jim, found a reasonably clean room nearby and asked if I wanted to share it with him. We scrubbed the shower and toilet until it was satisfactory, found some basic bedding and moved in. Jim lasted only a couple more days then changed his mind about staying and drove off to his home in Dallas.
A few weeks previously I had ordered a new Plymouth Duster from [the] Byers [car dealership] downtown and called them so they would not send the car back. My current roommate wanted me to use his car, a Plymouth convertible, which was stored in a garage off campus, but when I put the key in and turned it, nothing happened because someone had lifted the battery.

For the next nearly two weeks I was pretty much on my own. I cannot recall much of what I did or where I did it during that time. I suspect that I spent a bit of time working on my thesis, but the details have long since disappeared from memory with one exception. 

The one exception, of course, was the day of my Army physical. I was supposed to be at Fort Rutherford B. Hayes [in Columbus] at 7 a.m. The only place that I knew would be open for breakfast at that hour was a ratty old doughnut shop near [Lane Avenue] and High Street, which is still a going concern. So I had what passed for a meal, called a cab and went off to be examined. As might be expected, my fellows were a diverse group of males ranging from high-school dropouts wanting to be Marines to grad students such as myself who just wanted to be somewhere else. Several guys appeared to be on stimulants of one kind or another. I have never been in a group with so much nervous energy. One of the officers who was calling roll became so tired of the chatter that he told us he had the power to immediately draft us all if we did not shut up.

The actual physical was not so bad, if you like humiliation and intimidation, though the doctors were rather friendly and helpful. I had a hearing test that showed partial deafness in one ear, which likely would have kept me out of combat, though that was a moot point since I turned 26 before they could induct me. When the physical was over we were given a ticket for lunch at the fort cafeteria and sent home. I remember the food as being surprisingly good.

So OSU opened again for students. When I got back into my lab I made a long-distance call to my mother in Illinois indicating that the university was now open and I was OK. This call was a definite no-no, but I was incensed at the whole system by that time. We had been charged full room and board for the time the University was closed; my anger lasted long enough to make sure that Ohio State received no alumni contributions from me for the next 10 years.

Turmoil remained, and I recall police lobbing pepper gas at small bands of students, helicopters flying just above our dorms and a general show of force by anyone in authority. One evening as I was leaving the chemistry building I heard the rumbling of a large truck. A small crowd had gathered and we watched in stunned silence as a vehicle pulled up and out jumped a squad of helmeted soldiers in full battle gear each possessing rifles with fixed bayonets. Thankfully, they ignored us.

In the synopsis in the [May/June 2010 issue of the OSU Alumni] Monthly it was noted that “the cultural impact on the university from that spring of dissent was far-reaching and still resonates today.” Administrators and political leaders were unprepared for what happened in 1970 and used brute force to compensate for their inadequacies. There were many legitimate issues that were raised in illegitimate ways. When these issues were coupled with the emotional issues intrinsic to an unpopular war, the situation became chaotic. The lack of preparedness remains, but thankfully, brute force is now the exception. As a college faculty member doing research or teaching most of the 40 years since graduation, I have seen some competent, thoughtful educational administrators, but most are out of their league when it comes to understanding and dealing with dissent or providing leadership in unstructured situations.

We have made progress but we still have a long way to go.

-Michael L. Denniston