More free speech recollections

I dropped Quantitative Analysis (also known as Chem 5 at the time) in the fall quarter 1968, believing that my career in medicine was all but a dream, but thankful that the chemistry teaching assistant let me drop late without penalty. I would take it in the spring, because I heard it was less competitive. Maybe I could improve my imprecision in the laboratory the second time around.

In the spring of 1970, I tried again, buoyed by my improving GPA and driven by my low draft number--36. I was going to Southeast Asia if I did not get into medical school. And then, the Cambodia invasion occurred shortly before Chem 5 began. My professor, whose name I do not recall, was a woman of the Quaker faith. On the first day of class, she responded to the turmoil of the time by recognizing the need for student and faculty (herself included) participation in the free speech movement and anti-war protests. She also said on that first day of class that everyone would at least pass the course and that the laboratory was for learning, not for grading. It was the turning point. I received a "B," thoroughly enjoyed the lab, and went on to graduate from Georgetown University Medical School in 1975.

I believed up until today and, of course, as a naive 20-year-old student 26 years ago that all of this was just a stroke of luck. I thank you for enlightening me in your article "Recollections of the Free Speech Movement" in the fall 1996 UC Davis Magazine. I now realize that my Chem 5 professor was part of the "program."

She indeed permitted "dissent without dissension or loss of the basic mission of the university to teach, to create and to discover." My victory was real because of the Davis response.

Lawrence M. McNiesh, M.D.
Johnstown, Pa.

The fall 1996 issue of UC Davis Magazine features an article by Barry Wilson, "Recollections of the Free Speech Movement." He notes UCD has always been a quiet campus when it comes to student protest and it was very quiet compared to UC Berkeley during the protests of the late '60s. While it is true that communications among faculty, administration and students kept UCD from becoming a riot zone, I think he fails to mention the basic reason UCD was so quiet then.

During the tense days of spring 1969, while UC Berkeley was embroiled in anti-war demonstrations and the issue of People's Park raged, things were calmer here. Why? Because Davis did not have the added element of a large off-campus group of nonstudents/street people, which surely fired up a lot of the mayhem at Berkeley. Also, Davis was a small town then; the campus only had 10,000 students, and the surrounding area was entirely rural except for Sacramento.

There simply wasn't a lot of fuel for a fire, although things were pretty tense during the first student strike here.

All in all it was a pretty exciting time to be at UCD, although I must admit the best feature of the three-day strike was more time at the Rec Pool. But I still get my strike poster out now and then and marvel at how this campus got through that era without the Quad becoming a combat zone (thank goodness).

Curt Miller '71
via e-mail

Just another perception of the '60s:

I believe myself to be the only faculty wife who marched for peace in Davis. It proved to be such an experience that I did not take part in the candlelight procession, the railway track "sit/lie-in," or the Capitol peace demonstration.

To begin, I attended a meeting of like-minded people at the Cal Aggie Christian Center on Russell Boulevard. "Think about this prospective march through Davis and go only if conscience guides you," I was told. Back at the kitchen sink I recalled my pledge to stop war--if I possibly could--my rationale the awful memories of a burning blitzkrieg as a teenager in WWII London.

The appointed day found me at the State Market at Russell and Anderson. I bought something in the store and a bespectacled clerk showed me the rotten eggs he had personally saved for "those peaceniks." I smiled. I stepped out in the lot and--were they FBI black cars in line opposite? And was my photograph being taken? Suddenly, a gathering, so two-by-two we crossed to the university side and walked along Russell. At the corner of Russell and A we locals joined up with a small section of graduate and undergraduate students. I was handed an American flag to hold aloft and was partnered by the distinguished Emeritus Max Kleiber.

We crossed again at A to what are now the administrative offices for the city, then a school. The children lined the street. Insults, slurs and four-letter words abounded. Our local barber told me personally that he would like to cut my throat!

We crossed at B and entered the park boundary. As we passed a fraternity at 4th and C, streaming hosepipes were turned on our group. Further on, a group of students were stoning us--I began to shake--then one attractive blond male student recognized me, "My God, it's Mrs. ...!" I simply do not remember how I got back home.

It is now almost 1997 and, looking back, I just wanted to say that if you really believe in a cause, go! go! with it, come what may.

Patricia A. (Wheatley) McClelland
Davis