Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current | View Entire Issue (June 30, 1988)
Daily, Page T-i j • - • i Nebraskan 4 1"^ 1 T O "t* 1 PI I Thursday, June 30,1988 Royko remembers fun of Chicago convention We're closing in on the 20th an niversary of the 1968 Demo cratic convention in Chicago. That means newspapers, magazines and TV stations are going to look back and ponder the historic significance of that wild week in Chicago. Just about everybody who was there will be telling their stories — the politicians, anti-war protesters, po licemen and news people. One former high-ranking police man told me: “I’ve already been inter viewed four times. And I didn’t even hit anybody on the head.” We’ll sec flashbacks of protesters taunting cops and cops chasing pro testers. We’ll see Sen. Abe Ribicoff scolding Mayor Daley and Daley i.~11_:___ o..Ml u,. UVUV/ TT II l£, Ul I\IIMVV/I ■ • I IIVI V »» vv paddy wagons, tear gas, bandaged heads, the National Guard and shaggy poets chanting their mantras in Grant Park._ —J 1 he long-haired yippics, who nave become short-haired yuppies, w ill talk about their idealistic anti-war senti ments. The retired cops w'lll ask w hy idealists thoughi they could end a war by lobbing bags of do-do at them. Some political historians will say that because Daley was bullheaded, the convention became a riot and that put Richard Nixon, instead of Hubert Humphrey, in the White House. And aging Chicago politicians will say that if it hadn’t been for Daley, Abbic Hoffman and his dopc-rifldcn pals would have carried off Chicago’s womenfolk and eaten babies. Me? I’ll probably write something or other when the lime comes. But right now, when I think about that crazy, turbulent, violent, crazy week, all I feel is nostalgia. I get so sentimen tal, my eyes are teary. How can I feel sentimental and nostalgic about a week that has been described as one of the most disgrace ful in Chicago’s history, if not in the history of American politics? That’s easy. It was the last political convention that was fun, that wasn’t carefully orchestrated and a big bore. I’m speaking selfishly, of course. To those who had their hairy heads cracked or their political careers dis rupted, it wasn’t a big hoot. But, hey, every four years I have to cover these things. And given a choice between long, droning speeches or rioting in the streets, I’ll take tear gas any time. In 1972, both parties went to Mi ami. You try sweating out Miami in August, while listening to George McGovern, a personality kid, put a nation to sleep. Or watch a thousand Republicans in white shoes gaze reverentially at Richard Nixon and Spiro Agnew. Spend a week in New York just to watch Jimmy Carter floss his teeth. Or go all the way to Kansas City to sec if Jerry Ford will stumble off the stage. I have to admit that 1980 in De troit had its bright side. A lot of the small-town Republicans genuinely feared that Detroit’s black popula tion might cook them in pots. And next month we’re going to Atlanta, where it will be 102 and humid, and thousands of news people will spend a week asking each other: “Do we know what Jesse wants yet?” After that, it will be New Orleans, where it w ill be 105 and humid, w ith Republicans hoping for a miracle: George Bush stepping before the cameras to make his acceptance squeaks, but instead ripping off his coal and shirt and suddenly becom ing Rambo. If the television networks arc smart, they wouldn’t bother to show any of it. They 'd just get out the old film clips of 1968 in Chicago. Wouldn’t you rather watch a lat cop chasing Abbic Hoffman and Jerry [\Umil YYUUlUli i)UUi^viuavv,juiii one more lime, Dick Gregory being lilled bodily into a paddy wagon? Five years ago, a big California politician told me that Chicago would never get another convention because of the bitter memories of 1968. Instead, he said, they would hold the ’84 convention in San Fran cisco because it is so civili/.ed a city and would help the Democrats' image. So they did. And on the first day of the convention, a big, burly guy named Erma came around the press rooms to announce that there would be an ejaculation contest that after noon. Some image. One of these years, they’re going to wise up and come back to Chicago where we know how to show them a good time. I’m sure we have a lew canisters left over. © I bus by the Chicago Tribune Distributed by the Tribune Media Services Inc. The Daily Nebraskan welcomes brief letters to the editor from all readers and interested others. Letters will be selected for publi cation on the basis of clarity, origi nality, timeliness and space avail able. The Daily Nebraskan retains the right to edit all material submit .ted. Anonymous submissions will not be considered for publication. Letter should include the author’s name, year in school, major and group af filiation, if any. Requests to withhold names will not be granted. Submit material to the Daily Ne braskan, 34 Nebraska Union, 1400 R St, Lincoln, Neb. 68588-0448. John Bruce Daily Nebraskan Kansas ghosts ‘as real as me and you’ Lieu ranee Questions historian’s definition of a ghost town When I talked to Betty Brogan in St. Paul, Kansas yesterday she was alive as you or me, apparently sitting up and taking solid foods. Her husband of 22 years, Ed Brogan, told me she’d even wandered next door a few times. I asked Ed what she was doing up and around. Ed told me she had some errands to do. __________ In her condition? I queried. What condition was that, Ed re spo ruled. Why Ed, I said, as far as Daniel Fitzgerald of the Kansas Center for Historical Research in Topeka knows, your wife is no longer among us. That so, Ed pondered. For that matter Ed, what are you doing there and what business does a Ghost Town have with phone serv icc? F.d was with me then. It seems Mr. Fitzgerald wrote a book called “GhostTownsof Kansas" which includes 99 Kansas towns. An Assoc iated Press wire story reported thatoncof the towns, St. Paul,had 7(X) residents. Thinking perhaps my defi nition of “ghost town” was askew, I lealed through the handy Websters and found: “ghost town, the remains of a deserted town, permanently abandoned, csp. for economic rea sons.” Okay, this was an older Websters. Perhaps the “scientific" definition of lnti/n" uiqc /fifforonl #\>> been amended to include towns with under l(KX) people or some such thing. So I called Pal Gastcr over at the Nebraska Suite Historical Soci ety, who edits Nebraska History Magazine. “Could you define ‘ghost town ’ for me, please?” “A town with no one in it, maybe a few buildings left standing,” she said. “Would you consider it slightly irresponsible for an historian to call a town with 700 people in it ghost town?” She thought for a second, already letting the first sounds of a “yes” slip through her teeth. “Ycccaas," she committed herself, “I’d consider that kind of irrespon sible. But you’d better call back and talk to Jim Potter, our state historian. So maybe St. Paul was closing down and all of its residents were moving to Parsons, 18 miles away. One of the resident’s names was listed in the AP story, so 1 thought I'd call and see if there was some mistake. This is when I found out Betty Brogan, who was*mentioned in the story, and her husband Ed were still hanging out. At first, Ed’s voice from the grave siarueu me. Stragglers, l thought. Haven't you and Betty moved out of there yet? 1 imagine there w ill be quite a housing shortage in Parsons w hat with 700 people moving in and all, I said, you and Betty best get a move on. Ed informed me they had no inten tions of moving to Parsons or any where else. Maybe the Brogans were like those stubborn old coots who won’t get oil the sides of erupting volcanos or plant lawn chairs on their roofs during See ST. PAUL on 5