When GW graduate Henry Ziegler first stepped onto the Foggy Bottom campus in 1967, the air was heavy with the anticipation that his generation was on the cusp of something huge. Along with his moving boxes, he, like many other students, carried anger, passion and frustration with him. For Ziegler, like so many other students, the protests that erupted in Washington, D.C. became an outlet for his frustration.
Ziegler and other GW alumni remember a time when youthful idealism was king and the activist spirit of the younger generation helped make the nation stand up and take notice.
Before the Vietnam War, GW was a modest, quiet little campus, said William Smith, vice president for student affairs at GW from 1968 to 1988. Then, as anti-war sentiments grew and the civil rights movement gained momentum, college students from all over the nation descended on GW’s campus to add their voices to the chorus of student protestors.
Because of GW’s central location in the nation’s capital, the campus became what was later referred to as the Holiday Inn of the Revolution. Demonstrators would organize themselves on the GW campus and then march down to D.C. landmarks, such as the White House or the Mall.
No place in the world was similar, said Ziegler, who is now director of Colonial Computers at GW. No place was more exciting than GW. There was such a feeling of oneness with the rest of the community.
As more and more students flocked to GW, student protestors became more and more vehement about what they were fighting for. People began to say that Vietnam was a dirty war, and the college-age generation felt an obligation to make their voice audible to the government, Ziegler said.
We had a feeling we were making a difference, na?ve as that may be, Ziegler said. It was a strong feeling, but it wasn’t even understood four blocks away (at the White House). But if we didn’t react, those in favor of the war could say and believe they were a majority. If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem, and I don’t think this was one of those things we could let go gentle into that good night.
Ziegler said he remembers with amazement the purity of spirit, the na?vet? and idealism that propelled his generation to the White House and the Mall. He told the story of marching to the Pentagon and placing flowers in the guards’ guns. It was only later he realized the guns were loaded, he said.
Alan Trevithick, who graduated from GW in the 1970s, said when today’s younger generation looks at the young people of his era, they focus on the fun and excitement of attending free concerts and gathering with thousands of their peers. However, they often lose sight of what precipitated the demonstrations, he said.
Students today have the perception that we were having more fun than they do now, which I suspect may be true, he said. But this was not just an excuse for people to take their shirts off and smoke pot – we had serious political views too.
For Ziegler, the nostalgia he has for what he calls a dynamic and moving time is mixed with memories of violence and chaos.
It was not all peace and love, he said.
During a protest on G Street, Ziegler said he was standing next to a girl who was hit by a police officer, putting her in a coma.
I never knew what happened to her, he said, his voice trailing off.
Smith said some protesters would employ violent tactics to try and achieve their ends. He said he remembers one group, the Students for a Democratic Society, who used the slogan Come to GW, it’s only a stone’s throw from the White House to draw students to campus.
Every day was vivid, Smith said. It was a very confusing time for everyone, and it was very overwhelming. At times, it was also horrific, and I was never really sure what the purpose of the violence was.
In the spring of 1970, a time marred by the invasion of Cambodia and the Kent State massacre, the student protests reached a whole new level, forcing the administration to cancel classes for the first time since the Civil War. The students called it the Strike Semester. GW President Lloyd Elliott used a war analogy.
I want you to know that my whole objective is to win the war . this chaos, this hell that’s let loose on campus, has to end, Elliott said, according to the book From Strength to Strength. I want this University to be around when it’s over. We can’t let the bastards win.
And the bastards did not win, according to Elliott. In 1971, when more protests broke out, the school did not close again and after that point, the campus saw a tapering off of protests and demonstrations. Many of the former protestors, however, would not agree that Elliott, or the government, can completely claim victory. Ziegler said he believes his generation helped raise the consciousness of America, even if Nixon didn’t always listen, he said with a laugh.
My greatest regret is that we did not end the war earlier than we did, but I’m not really sure what we could have done to do that, he said.
Ziegler said during his college years he could have been the poster child for the revolution: he had long hair, wore bell bottoms and sported a varsity-letter jacket (a relic from a freshman year spent on the soccer team) to mess up the jocks. Looking at him now, as his hair is thinning and he adopts a more conservative look, Ziegler says people may be fooled into thinking he’s lost his feisty spirit. But the same idealistic youth who was once accused of being a communist and a traitor is still active behind the conservative clothes and steady job, he said.
I would still go out and protest right now if there was a demonstration going on for something I really believed in, Ziegler said. I would leave my job for the afternoon. I would tell them I was going to protest.
Hey, I’ve still got a lunch hour, he said.
