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2:02 |
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I
also found a couple minutes of a dorm “bull session” about
how current grade averages might affect future earnings. This
was the 1960s, remember, and college graduates who made $50,000 a
year were rich. “Certainly they, you know, they're very
very well off.”
That's
one of ten MP3 sound bites incorporated into the present
article. Notice the “Audio Link” button in the left
margin. If you right-click on it and choose Open Link in New
Tab, you can continue reading this page while the audio plays.
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The
next month, one of our news reporters borrowed the recorder to
document a noisy campus demonstration.
But
the present article is dedicated to detailing a few hours of my
activities a year later, when I myself covered a demonstration.
By then I was WOBC's program director, soon to become the station
director. The date was most likely April 24, 1968. |
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Since
September of 1966, students and townspeople had been gathering at
noon every Wednesday for an hour-long silent vigil against the
ongoing war in Southeast Asia. The purpose was “to express
sorrow and protest over the loss of lives in Vietnam.” The
photo below appeared in the 1967 college yearbook.
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For
some reason, the vigil on April 24, 1968, was expected to be more
newsworthy than usual.
Perhaps
it was due to the reports coming in from New York City. Only
the day before, students at Columbia University had taken over five
buildings, including Hamilton Hall (right). A dean was briefly
held hostage. The students wanted the university to cut
its ties to military research. |
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I
seem to recall that at Oberlin, activists were urging a boycott of
classes. I decided to cover the events for WOBC — not live
but on tape. I'd file a one-minute report to be played during
our newscasts.
However,
the vigil was a silent protest.
PROBLEM:
If no one spoke, that would be less than compelling radio.
Perhaps
I could speak myself, describing what I saw.
PROBLEM:
My talking would disturb the quiet.
Therefore
I decided to record only the ambient sounds. Later I could add
a commentary as if I were reporting from the scene.
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This
would be the audio version of a technique you've seen on
television. Someone pretends
to be where he's not by standing in front of a blank green screen in
the studio, while his image is electronically inserted over a wide
shot of the remote location. |
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0:37 |
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I
started recording at 11:48 AM on Tappan Square. Protesters had
already started gathering, 20 of them so far, standing somberly on
the corner across from Talcott Hall. Here's part of the sound
of silence.
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0:59 |
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Next,
I crossed Professor Street and walked through the King classroom
building, taping the ambience of the hallway. The far end of
the hall was not completely devoid of students, so if there was a
boycott, it was only partly successful.
And
then it was time for lunch. |
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0:30 |
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Afterwards,
around 12:58 PM, I stationed myself next to the Finney Chapel bell
tower to record the hourly chimes. I needn't have gotten so
close, as the bells were loud enough to be heard all across campus.
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Most
of my afternoon, from 1:30 until almost 4:00, would be spent in the
Wright physics building. There I was measuring microwaves with
my lab partner Jan Olson. |
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I
was Jan's partner and friend, but I was not her boyfriend. The
guy she was officially “going with” was a senior. And
he had suggested a fun activity for that spring: skydiving!
Naturally,
Jan had misgivings about jumping out of an airplane. She had
explained her reluctance to me. |
In
particular, she was worried that her parents wouldn't want her to
take the risk. We discussed the conundrum.
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0:02 |
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When
our experimentation was over for the day, we shut off the equipment
and packed up our notes. The recorder was still in my
briefcase, so I pulled out the microphone and asked my partner
whether she would like to say a few words.
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0:52 |
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She
inquired whether the device belonged to me or to WOBC. Both
names were on it.
I
confessed that I planned to report “from the scene” of the
vigil, even though I was no longer actually present. However, I
insisted, this would not amount to misrepresenting the event itself.
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Three
weeks earlier, when we aimed a laser through a pinhole for our lab
experiment, we had needed several sheets of photo paper of the kind
used for making 8" x 10" black-and-white prints.
As
I recall, I went out and bought 25 sheets in a packet something like
this. It was rather expensive, about $10, so Jan owed me $5 for
her share. |
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0:44 |
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A
few days later I was sitting with some other male students at lunch
when Jan walked past and handed me a five-dollar bill without
explanation, thereby causing the guys to raise their eyebrows,
thereby causing her to grin mischievously.
The
lab exercise had required only a few sheets, so we offered to sell
the rest to classmates who were going to conduct the same experiment
later in the semester. But we got no takers. We also
misplaced the packet.
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0:29 |
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As
we walked down the stairs to leave the Wright Physics Building, we
encountered some students in baggy clothing. I looked at
Jan. She looked at me. We shrugged. Then we laughed.
Maybe,
she suggested, those folks were promoting the musical which would be
opening that night in Hall Auditorium. |
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1:15 |
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Outside,
we further examined the lettering on my microphone. Jan
unlocked her squeaky bicycle, preparing to ride back to her dorm,
South Hall, 2,000 feet away.
The
temperature that afternoon was only 50° — yes, I've
looked up the weather records — so I buttoned my coat.
Picking
up my briefcase again, I walked beside Jan as we headed south, past
the Kettering chemistry building. (This entrance isn't there
any more.)
I
was merely going to walk 700 feet southwest to Wilder Hall, as
depicted by the gold line. For that short distance, Jan
accompanied me, bicycling slowly alongside as in the later photo below.
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1:42 |
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Crossing
West Lorain Street, we alluded again to the skydiving question.
The sound is obscured, but apparently I opined that her parents
weren't concerned about the parachute jumping per se; they just
didn't approve her making such a big decision on her own, “even
though they said they did.”
“Well,
you know how it is” with families, she replied. Actually,
as an only child, I didn't. Apparently Jan, instead of her
siblings, had become the current subject of her parents' botheration.
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Her
bike was well-used. I think she had picked it up the preceding
September on the steps of Wilder Hall, where the Consolidated Relief
Fund held its annual auction of dozens of bicycles. Some had
been donated by graduating seniors who no longer needed them; others
had been discovered abandoned on campus.
Now
her two-wheeler was becoming troublesome. She feared she was
going to have to rely on it all the way through the rest of college
and medical school. |
She
figured that she certainly couldn't afford to buy a car. (As
it turned out, there was a car in her future, although it
would be another four years before she received the news.)
When
we reached those Wilder steps, we went our separate ways. Jan
instructed me to have fun, and I headed upstairs to do so.
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At
the radio studios, I wrote my script and assembled my report to air
on the 5:30 newscast. Sadly, that audio clip no longer exists.
I
hoped WOBC's listeners would visualize me as a well-dressed
correspondent standing right there on the front lines. |
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