Convention starts Monday.

I wish I had thought earlier of renting a billboard near the Amphitheater and putting up a pic of Biden with the message "50 Years of Service. That's a BFD! Thank you, Mr. President!"

We had some young kids with us. Younger siblings and their friends. The uglier the rhetoric became, the more nervous we became.

We went home and watched the rest unfold on TV, tears streaming down our faces.

This is what I remember. Many others have clearer memories. But when younger people ask "What's wrong with you boomers that you didn't bother to fix _____?" All I can say is we had other things on our mind.

Protesters were to be kept away from the Ampitheater and delegates inside the venue found even their movements were restricted.

All of this dominated local TV news. We had been mostly excited but partly afraid. By the time the convention opened, we were mostly angry and definitely afraid.

A group of us gathered again in Lincoln Park. Another was in the Civic Center Plaza. The speakers became steadily angrier, increasingly calling for a fight.

Our Dem mayor, Richard J Daley, was not loved by the left to begin with. He took machine politics to a new and more corrupt place. Thousands had come to town to protest the war, but Daley, who controlled the city, was afraid of the Yippies and was *not* having any of us god damn hippies causing trouble.

More than 10,000 city cops and thousands of Illinois National Guard troops put the city virtually under siege.

Chicago 1968 Democratic National Convention

The tension in the city was palpable. It excited some and scared the hell out of others. We all knew someone(s) who had died in 'Nam. We would later see the devastation of PTSD in our friends/family who came back seemingly okay.

There had been regular largish Sunday gatherings in Lincoln Park. Called love-ins, be-ins, sit-ins, whatever, the anger and excitement built week on week.

And then the Democrats came to town.

#Wordle 1,153 4/6

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