Still rocking the boat: 1968
The Daily News looks back at 1968 and how some of those events have echoed down through the years.
- Still rocking the boat: 1968
- America at a turning point
- Stu Bykofsky: A right turn
I BECAME a civilian again in 1968. It should have been a breeze.
I had never left the United States in my three-year Army hitch. But the transition was trickier than I had imagined.
- Still rocking the boat: 1968
- America at a turning point
- Stu Bykofsky: A right turn
WHEN 'LIBERAL' BECAME POISON
THE MYTHOLOGY of the year 1968 A.D. is a black hole so powerful that objectivity can hardly escape it. What follows is drawn from research, from impartial sources and from my personal memory.
- WE MUST REFLECT ON THE DECISIONS WE MADE IN '68AS AN ELDER of our human tribe, at four-score-and-two, I've seen the ups and downs of 14 presidents - and how in the sweep of history there are real turning points.
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GROWING UP in a segregated neighborhood in 1968, it was through music that Guthrie Ramsey Jr. learned of other social worlds.
- DRESSES, HEELS FROM '60S ARE SHOWING UP 40 YEARS LATERFORTY YEARS after the London King's Road style made many a girl channel her inner Twiggy, similar fashions have come around again - only with 21st century charm.
- A 'HORROR' AWAITED THE UNFORTUNATEI GOT PREGNANT the day Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, but put off an abortion until after finals.
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IT WASN'T EASY getting former Black Panther Bobby Seale on the phone for an interview, because of his latest confrontation with the government.
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IT WOULD HAVE been so much easier to write about 1969. Quality dope. Asian women. Plastique affixed to the undercarriage of my jeep.
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DURING THE final week of August 1968 I was a young reporter in Grant Park, in Chicago. I was there to cover the Democratic National Convention. By the time the opening ceremony had ended, I made a silent promise to myself: If I survive this police riot, I will never return to the Windy City.
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A WEEK after I began organizing Dig This, a teenage newspaper in Francisville, a social worker tipped me off: "Oh, you're working with the Morroccos gang."
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SILENT GESTURE, that's what Tommie Smith had in mind when his wife bought the black gloves in Mexico City. Then he won the 200-meter race at the 1968 Olympics and he slithered his hand into the right glove and handed the left glove to John Carlos, who had finished third.
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READING Thurston Clarke's "The Last Campaign," a detailed account of RFK's 1968 run for president, I'm struck by similarities between back then and now.
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