“Drugs on campus? Do you want to get expelled?”
“Aw, lighten up. What’s a little weed between friends?”
Nothing, just a felony and expulsion. “
You don’t have any on you, do you?”
Mary Beth looked at her as if this were an unknown collection of words.
“If you have any on you, give it to me. We’ve got to throw it out the window. What if they do a bed check?”
Mary Beth shook her head. “Didn’t bring any—”
Light streamed in around the door to the hall. “Bed check!” the resident assistant announced in a loud voice. Their door flew
open first. Leigh glared at the RA. “We’re here. What’s your problem?”
“She better not have brought any alcohol—” the RA began.
“I’m clean,” Mary Beth crowed. “Just a little happy.” And then she began humming the Beatles, “Love, Love Me Do.”
The RA looked Mary Beth over and then shook her head. “You’re going to end up flunking out if this doesn’t stop.”
“Peace.” Mary Beth held up her hand in the two-fingered peace sign. And then passed out on the bed.
Leigh wanted to shake Mary Beth until her teeth rattled out onto the floor. Mary Beth had begun by going to drinking bashes
at the different frat houses. And now a hippie andmarijuana… She had to find a way to turn Mary
Beth around. Otherwise, where would it all end?
Chicago, August 28, 1968
O utside Leigh’s hotel, the Conrad Hilton, police sirens sounded in the distance, releasing another spurt of adrenaline in Leigh.
Where was Mary Beth? Was she safe? Her friend had promised to steer clear of trouble this week, but so many opportunities
presented themselves. And she’d already been picked up by the Chicago police once. Leigh stared down from the high window
of the room she shared with other girls attending the convention. Mary Beth had chosen instead to camp out in Grant Park with
Chance, her hippie boyfriend from California. Fretting, Leigh stared down at the yellow police barricades below near the hotel
entrance, and at the line of helmeted, blue-uniformed cops along it. From the transistor radio, Martha and the Vandellas sang
“Nowhere to Run, Baby…”
The sense of a world spinning out of control, of a beast waiting to be unleashed, ate at Leigh’s peace. And why not? The International
Amphitheatre where the Democratic Convention was being held was surrounded by steel-wire fences and ugly yellow barricades
and armed riot police. How crazy did the world have to become? When had it grown dangerous to be a politician, dangerous to
be near politicians?
But of course, it had all started with the assassination of President Kennedy five years ago. That thought took her mind back
to that dark day. Another unhappy thought. Frank was in Viet Nam for his second tour of duty, and thousands of U.S. soldiers
were dying there. At home, the Viet Nam Warhad ignited a blaze of nationwide protest and forced LBJ not to run again.
She rubbed her tight neck muscles and turned to get ready for this evening.
Mary Beth, please come now. Please.
Leigh had come to Chicago in the entourage of the Maryland delegation. It had been set up through her college and with her
grandmother’s influence. Leigh hadn’t taken much interest in her great-grandfather before, but evidently he had been a politician.
And Grandma Chloe still knew people in the Democratic Party, people who could arrange for her granddaughter to have a plum
job at a convention.
Both Leigh and Mary Beth had come to write articles about the convention experience for college papers. But where was her
friend? Mary Beth was supposed to be here to go to this evening’s session with Leigh, who’d finally gotten her a visitor’s
pass.
Leigh glanced at her watch. She couldn’t wait any longer for Mary Beth or she’d miss this evening’s limo to the Amphitheatre.
In front of the closet door mirror, she glanced at herself. She wore a shades-of-pink paisley miniskirt and matching
“Aw, lighten up. What’s a little weed between friends?”
Nothing, just a felony and expulsion. “
You don’t have any on you, do you?”
Mary Beth looked at her as if this were an unknown collection of words.
“If you have any on you, give it to me. We’ve got to throw it out the window. What if they do a bed check?”
Mary Beth shook her head. “Didn’t bring any—”
Light streamed in around the door to the hall. “Bed check!” the resident assistant announced in a loud voice. Their door flew
open first. Leigh glared at the RA. “We’re here. What’s your problem?”
“She better not have brought any alcohol—” the RA began.
“I’m clean,” Mary Beth crowed. “Just a little happy.” And then she began humming the Beatles, “Love, Love Me Do.”
The RA looked Mary Beth over and then shook her head. “You’re going to end up flunking out if this doesn’t stop.”
“Peace.” Mary Beth held up her hand in the two-fingered peace sign. And then passed out on the bed.
Leigh wanted to shake Mary Beth until her teeth rattled out onto the floor. Mary Beth had begun by going to drinking bashes
at the different frat houses. And now a hippie andmarijuana… She had to find a way to turn Mary
Beth around. Otherwise, where would it all end?
Chicago, August 28, 1968
O utside Leigh’s hotel, the Conrad Hilton, police sirens sounded in the distance, releasing another spurt of adrenaline in Leigh.
Where was Mary Beth? Was she safe? Her friend had promised to steer clear of trouble this week, but so many opportunities
presented themselves. And she’d already been picked up by the Chicago police once. Leigh stared down from the high window
of the room she shared with other girls attending the convention. Mary Beth had chosen instead to camp out in Grant Park with
Chance, her hippie boyfriend from California. Fretting, Leigh stared down at the yellow police barricades below near the hotel
entrance, and at the line of helmeted, blue-uniformed cops along it. From the transistor radio, Martha and the Vandellas sang
“Nowhere to Run, Baby…”
The sense of a world spinning out of control, of a beast waiting to be unleashed, ate at Leigh’s peace. And why not? The International
Amphitheatre where the Democratic Convention was being held was surrounded by steel-wire fences and ugly yellow barricades
and armed riot police. How crazy did the world have to become? When had it grown dangerous to be a politician, dangerous to
be near politicians?
But of course, it had all started with the assassination of President Kennedy five years ago. That thought took her mind back
to that dark day. Another unhappy thought. Frank was in Viet Nam for his second tour of duty, and thousands of U.S. soldiers
were dying there. At home, the Viet Nam Warhad ignited a blaze of nationwide protest and forced LBJ not to run again.
She rubbed her tight neck muscles and turned to get ready for this evening.
Mary Beth, please come now. Please.
Leigh had come to Chicago in the entourage of the Maryland delegation. It had been set up through her college and with her
grandmother’s influence. Leigh hadn’t taken much interest in her great-grandfather before, but evidently he had been a politician.
And Grandma Chloe still knew people in the Democratic Party, people who could arrange for her granddaughter to have a plum
job at a convention.
Both Leigh and Mary Beth had come to write articles about the convention experience for college papers. But where was her
friend? Mary Beth was supposed to be here to go to this evening’s session with Leigh, who’d finally gotten her a visitor’s
pass.
Leigh glanced at her watch. She couldn’t wait any longer for Mary Beth or she’d miss this evening’s limo to the Amphitheatre.
In front of the closet door mirror, she glanced at herself. She wore a shades-of-pink paisley miniskirt and matching
Similar Books
