Nixonland.

Southern delegates kept alive a rumor that Lyndon Johnson might still sweep in and claim the nomination. Humphrey himself had no idea if they weren't right. Polls showed Humphrey behind George Wallace in Oklahoma, Tennessee, Kentucky, and North Carolina. The happy warrior with the mawkishly inappropriate campaign slogan-"the politics of joy"-spent the week moping. He reserved a pasted-on smile for those public moments where he had to appear as if nothing whatsoever was wrong.

Sunday morning, August 25, the nation learned, from an article by Seymour Hersh in the New York Times Magazine, New York Times Magazine, that America maintained large stockpiles of weapons for chemical and biological warfare. that America maintained large stockpiles of weapons for chemical and biological warfare.

Sunday afternoon was the Festival of Life rock concert. Time Time ran a picture of a naked, goateed longhair in the middle of the crowd, a dowdy matron averting her eyes. ran a picture of a naked, goateed longhair in the middle of the crowd, a dowdy matron averting her eyes.

Sunday night, at ten forty-five, Yippies debated whether it was physical suicide to defy the cops or moral suicide not to. A floodlight swept a central sidewalk-a TV light, not a police light. A fourteen-year-old boy with the hair of an Indian brave leapt up on the shoulders of a friend and started waving the red, white, and yellow flag of the Vietnamese National Liberation Front: "Stay in the park! Stay in the park! Parks belong to the people! Parks belong to the people!" "Stay in the park! Stay in the park! Parks belong to the people! Parks belong to the people!" It was only his second demonstration. The first had been the peace march downtown in April, when the cops had beaten him up. "I'll probably never get to be twenty-one," he told a reporter. It was only his second demonstration. The first had been the peace march downtown in April, when the cops had beaten him up. "I'll probably never get to be twenty-one," he told a reporter.

Yippies started ma.s.sing. Marshals from the Mobe cried, "This is suicide! Suicide!" They tried to pull the kid down from his friend's shoulders. It was five minutes to eleven-five minutes to midnight, for those hearing radio reports back East. Some melted onto the sidewalks, accommodating to police commands. Then the fourteen-year-old cried, "Onto the streets!" "Onto the streets!" He ran into the intersection of LaSalle, Clark, and Eugenie with his flag. A crowd swarmed behind him. He'd refas.h.i.+oned retreat into a victory. A wave of righteous confidence surged through the crowd: they He ran into the intersection of LaSalle, Clark, and Eugenie with his flag. A crowd swarmed behind him. He'd refas.h.i.+oned retreat into a victory. A wave of righteous confidence surged through the crowd: they owned owned the streets. Nothing was going to stop them. the streets. Nothing was going to stop them.

"The streets belong to the people! The streets belong to the people!"

"Pig! Pig! Pig! Oink! Oink! Oink!"

Some said they saw kids throwing rocks. Others said they saw nothing of the kind. A legend spread of the final insult that finally brought the cop rampage from every direction: "Your mother sucks dirty c.o.c.k!" "Your mother sucks dirty c.o.c.k!"

They split skulls of yippies, marshals, bystanders. Some kids started charging back. Photographers swarmed to capture the images. They were set upon two by two-one cop to collar them for a beating, another to smash their camera. A radio reporter spotted Tom Hayden; he was supposed to be one of their leaders. The "leader," baffled, spoke for the record: "Man, what's going on down there?"

What was going on was pandemonium, right there in the streets of Chicago, for the delegates to read and gossip about the next evening, when the opening gavel at the Chicago Amphitheatre would ring out.

Monday morning, the Chicago police tracked down and arrested Thomas Hayden. The Mobe organized a "Free Hayden" march from Lincoln Park to police headquarters on South State Street, obediently confining themselves to only half the sidewalk. "f.u.c.k the marshals! Marshals are pigs!" "f.u.c.k the marshals! Marshals are pigs!" chanted some, aghast that they were granting legitimacy to the cops who had split their skulls the night before. (Hayden was bailed out, arrested again, and bailed out a second time by some chanted some, aghast that they were granting legitimacy to the cops who had split their skulls the night before. (Hayden was bailed out, arrested again, and bailed out a second time by some Village Voice Village Voice writers, who overheard some cops: "We had to fumigate after we led all those animals through"; "I'm going to kill those Yippies who lost me that good lay.") The march ended with a rally in Grant Park in front of the Hilton. Someone clambered up the equestrian statue of Union general John A. Logan, waving the Vietcong flag. A ma.s.sive crowd formed to hold the hill beneath him as if it were a military objective-for the thousands of delegates and alternates to see as they lined up for the buses and taxis that transported them to the Stockyards Amphitheatre. writers, who overheard some cops: "We had to fumigate after we led all those animals through"; "I'm going to kill those Yippies who lost me that good lay.") The march ended with a rally in Grant Park in front of the Hilton. Someone clambered up the equestrian statue of Union general John A. Logan, waving the Vietcong flag. A ma.s.sive crowd formed to hold the hill beneath him as if it were a military objective-for the thousands of delegates and alternates to see as they lined up for the buses and taxis that transported them to the Stockyards Amphitheatre.

The way was flecked with hand-scrawled signs: GET READY FOR KENNEDY IN '68. '72 IS TOO LATE, '68 IS THE DATE-DRAFT TEDDY KENNEDY. GET READY FOR KENNEDY IN '68. '72 IS TOO LATE, '68 IS THE DATE-DRAFT TEDDY KENNEDY. City workers had removed every rock bigger than a pebble from a several-block radius of the amphitheater; every manhole cover was sealed shut or actively watched; the parking lot was ringed with a half mile of barbed wire. Security headquarters next to the great white-granite hall had an eight-by-twelve-foot magnetic map of the city and a hotline to the White House and the Pentagon. The City workers had removed every rock bigger than a pebble from a several-block radius of the amphitheater; every manhole cover was sealed shut or actively watched; the parking lot was ringed with a half mile of barbed wire. Security headquarters next to the great white-granite hall had an eight-by-twelve-foot magnetic map of the city and a hotline to the White House and the Pentagon. The Evergreen Review, Evergreen Review, however, recognized a gaping hole in the security: a man holding a shotgun over his head could have gotten in if he also wore on his back and front one of the ubiquitous, identical however, recognized a gaping hole in the security: a man holding a shotgun over his head could have gotten in if he also wore on his back and front one of the ubiquitous, identical WE LOVE MAYOR DALEY WE LOVE MAYOR DALEY signs. signs.

The convention floor accommodated 6,511 delegates, but was designed to hold 4,850. The air hung heavy with summer sweat, cigarette smoke, the smell of the nearby stockyards. The gavel rang, Aretha Franklin belted out a rock-and-roll version of "The Star-Spangled Banner," and the first of many brawls broke out: the compromise on the Georgia delegation voted by the Credentials Committee wouldn't go into effect until Wednesday, and liberals jumped on their seats and started shouting at Georgia, "Throw them out! Throw them out!" Senator Daniel Inouye delivered his keynote speech, addressed to the hippies infesting Chicago's parks: "What trees do they plant?" The ringers carrying WE LOVE MAYOR DALEY WE LOVE MAYOR DALEY signs were exuberant. A Negro California delegate in African robes and a necklace fas.h.i.+oned of animal teeth held up his delegate credentials and tried to burn them like a draft card. Concessionaires were instructed not to put ice cubes in the drinks lest people throw them. Word arrived of that night's riot in Lincoln Park, how the Yippies built a ma.s.sive barricade of picnic tables, trash baskets, and anything else they could get their hands on. In the park, a cop car stealthily glided up at 12:20 a.m., turned its lights on, and met the fate of Richard Nixon in Caracas in 1958: every window was smashed, and a kid grabbed the driver by the neck and almost pulled him out the door. signs were exuberant. A Negro California delegate in African robes and a necklace fas.h.i.+oned of animal teeth held up his delegate credentials and tried to burn them like a draft card. Concessionaires were instructed not to put ice cubes in the drinks lest people throw them. Word arrived of that night's riot in Lincoln Park, how the Yippies built a ma.s.sive barricade of picnic tables, trash baskets, and anything else they could get their hands on. In the park, a cop car stealthily glided up at 12:20 a.m., turned its lights on, and met the fate of Richard Nixon in Caracas in 1958: every window was smashed, and a kid grabbed the driver by the neck and almost pulled him out the door.

Then, the retaliation: wave after wave of tear gas, a.s.saults with shotgun and rifle b.u.t.ts, a seminarian beaten nearly to death, more ambushed cop cars, dueling screams ("h.e.l.l, no, we won't go!"; "Kill the f.u.c.king commies!") ("h.e.l.l, no, we won't go!"; "Kill the f.u.c.king commies!")-running battles in the streets of Chicago. And in the parking lot, reporters watched policemen slash the tires of every car bearing a daisy-festooned Eugene McCarthy b.u.mper sticker. The liberal Chicago Daily News Chicago Daily News called it "the most vicious behavior on the part of the police" in twenty-five years. The papers also reported that Abbie Hoffman had been arrested for having called it "the most vicious behavior on the part of the police" in twenty-five years. The papers also reported that Abbie Hoffman had been arrested for having f.u.c.k f.u.c.k written across his forehead. written across his forehead.

The California delegation was pledged to a dead man. The primary had been so nasty that many were reluctant to switch. So they had all three candidates, Humphrey, McCarthy, and McGovern, give a speech before their caucus and the cameras-the only occasion before the convention roll call when all the candidates actually competed. Hubert Humphrey said of the 1967 elections in South Vietnam, "When you look over the world scene, these elections stand up pretty well," and that we were only in Vietnam to "resist aggression." He was booed. George McGovern got the biggest ovation.

California and New York were strongest in support of the peace plank. Which is why they had to sit in the far back corner of the hall. In Lincoln Park, as word pa.s.sed of the forty-three black soldiers in the stockade at Fort Hood for refusing to muster for Chicago riot duty, kids started showing up with armloads of ceramic building tile, clinking them together for rhythmic effect, eyeing the cops. A coalition of solid citizens met with the Eighteenth Police District commander to beg his forces to allow the kids to sleep in the park. The officer affected sympathy, asked for the badge numbers of the rogue officers beating kids, and described the fears they were operating under: "We even heard they are going to throw flaming spears."

At about 7 p.m. on Tuesday, by account of the federal commission later convened to study the violence, "a crowd estimated at 1,500 persons listened to Bobby Seale of the Black Panther Party and Jerry Rubin call for revolution in the United States." Police spies recorded their words. Seale, whose partner Huey Newton's murder case was wrapping up in Oakland, said, "Pick up a gun and pull that spike out from the wall. Because if you pull it on out and if you shoot well, all I'm gonna do is pat you on the back and say 'keep on shooting.'...If the police get in the way of our march, tangle with the blue-helmeted motherf.u.c.kers and kill them and send them to the morgue slab." He also offered tactical advice: "Large groups are wrong. Get into small groups of three, four, and five. Be armed and spread out so we can 'stuckle' pigs." Rubin promised, "We'll take the same risks the blacks take."

At eleven, a phalanx of clergymen marched around the park with a life-size cross in a vigil for calm. The cops dispersed tear gas in industrial quant.i.ties from sanitation department trucks and made their move. They didn't bother with arrests: they just waded into the crowd, leaving maimed victims behind.

At the amphitheater, the day's chaos was gaveled to a close after one last brawl on the convention floor when Mayor Daley slashed his finger across his neck, instructing House Majority Leader Carl Albert to adjourn when peace delegates tried to commandeer the microphones to register protest at

The Chicago Daily News Chicago Daily News ran a picture of an unidentified man pointing a rifle out of his car window toward pa.s.sing Yippies outside Lincoln Park. NBC News developed its film for the next morning's ran a picture of an unidentified man pointing a rifle out of his car window toward pa.s.sing Yippies outside Lincoln Park. NBC News developed its film for the next morning's Today Today show, where it was narrated by correspondent Jack Perkins: show, where it was narrated by correspondent Jack Perkins: "In the darkness and confusion, policemen used their nightsticks with great zeal, clubbing and injuring about sixty people. Seventeen of them were newsmen-there trying to cover it-including a CBS cameraman...an NBC cameraman, and NBC News reporter John Evans.

"They beat cameramen to keep them from filming policemen beating other people, and newsmen not in spite of the fact they were newsmen but because of it.

"This suppression of the news and these beatings were in direct violation of police orders, but they happened. And none of the newsmen we talked to had ever seen anything to match it in any other city in this country."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Wednesday, August 28, 1968.

SOMETHING EXTRAORDINARY WAS HAPPENING IN C CHICAGO. B BY W WEDNESDAY, August 28-the fifth anniversary of Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech-even political indifferents were watching the convention. It was the most extraordinary TV show imaginable. August 28-the fifth anniversary of Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech-even political indifferents were watching the convention. It was the most extraordinary TV show imaginable.

Let us suppose you are one of those apathetic Americans. You flip to NBC at quarter past four Chicago time to see what all the fuss is about.

Things wouldn't have seemed interesting at first: anchors Chet Huntley and David Brinkley kibbitzing in their sonorous voices about the inevitability of the Humphrey nomination and the scuttleb.u.t.t on running-mate possibilities. Then a floor reporter related a conversation with the vanquished Gene McCarthy: McCarthy had offered to withdraw in favor of Teddy Kennedy, then was told that Kennedy's decision not to run was final; now McCarthy said Hubert Humphrey "should be stopped at almost all cost" and that his support for the ticket was dependent on Humphrey's reaction to the proVietnam War plank. Dramatic stuff, if you followed this sort of thing. A boring blizzard of disconnected names if you didn't.

You might have readied to turn off the set-and then: "At Grant Park in downtown Chicago there has been in progress for some time a sizable peace demonstration. Jack Perkins, NBC News correspondent, was there and has a report for us by way of videotape."

Cut to people milling around bleacher-style seats at a band sh.e.l.l, and a voice over a loudspeaker: "Sit down! Sit down! Sit down!" Then the camera view sweeps to the left, and you see a ma.s.s of men in riot helmets sweeping through the rows.

"At first the police had said they would not clear the demonstrators out of this rally, that the officers, they would protect them and let them have it here. But then the demonstrators began throwing paper, tomatoes, stones, tried to kick in one of their police cars, so the police responded with tear gas and moving back the line of demonstrators from the corner of the park. And the speaker on the platform trying to keep some degree of order-"

New camera angles: young men in flannel s.h.i.+rts and leather jackets and coats and ties and young women in peasant skirts eyeing the cops on their approach.

"It is fairly tense here, and one factor to consider is that whenever the police appear, they are automatically referred to as 'pigs'-is the automatic term by these demonstrators. This does not tend to ease tensions-"

A demonstrator waves a red flag, another gets blood wiped off his face.

"These demonstrators have been making their plans about what to do this afternoon. And they have decided they are going to march on the amphitheater, they will go ahead with it, despite police determination to stop them short. They will leave this park at four o'clock and try to get as far as they can.... Those are their plans. And the plans of the police are to stop them. Jack Perkins, NBC News, Grant Park."

And then it's back to the convention hall, and Chet Huntley explaining that they'd be showing such field reports on videotape because a telephone workers' strike had prevented them from setting up microwave equipment for live reports. John Chancellor has a report from one of the delegations on the convention floor-cut to Chancellor wearing one of those funny s.p.a.ceman antennas and holding a microphone and a heavy, black equipment pack: "Those of us who have been covering political conventions for a long time have almost never seen anybody cry, weep tears, at a convention, but when it became apparent that the minority report on the Vietnam plank failed today, some people in the New York delegation began crying. This is one of those ladies-"

"...a military cemetery, my brother is buried, was buried, over in Maastricht, Holland, and I don't want to see any more of this war, that's all.... And I was hoping that our party would be the party to put in a real antiwar plank.... Everyone knows that the thing that is going to stop this war is the stopping of the bombing-"

A sob, then a convulsed sniff.

"We're not going to give up, not any of us.... When you've been in a party as long as I have, and you love it, and you see the end of something-I'm just saying good-bye, is what I'm doing."

You notice that some of the men have white and blue paper flowers affixed to their suit jackets, the same flowers some of the kids have on their leather jackets in Grant Park-McCarthy flowers. Another reporter interviews a "peace-plank architect" who speaks with an air of resigned futility about how the convention orchestra immediately started blaring martial music whenever a peace delegate tried to be recognized and says the votes to defeat them all came from Southern delegates who wouldn't even be voting for the Democratic nominee in November.

Then a commercial for Gulf Oil, which you sit through to see what happens next.

There's another interview, with the California leader Jesse Unruh, who says that at least their their delegation didn't have any "secret caucuses," and that "I hope by our example we have said to the young people of this country...learn to believe in the mainstream of our society...to the black people...have been shoved out of our society...to the other minorities who do not share in any measure of the affluence in our society." delegation didn't have any "secret caucuses," and that "I hope by our example we have said to the young people of this country...learn to believe in the mainstream of our society...to the black people...have been shoved out of our society...to the other minorities who do not share in any measure of the affluence in our society."

They cut to the New York delegation waving curiously flimsy STOP THE WAR STOP THE WAR signs, standing on their chairs and singing "We Shall Overcome," and John Chancellor: signs, standing on their chairs and singing "We Shall Overcome," and John Chancellor: "This floor is a cacophony of sound! When the New York delegation, or most of it, began standing on their chairs and singing this song, the podium tried to 'get order' as it called it, and then the band, under orders from the podium, began to play-"

("We Shall Overcome" and "You're a Grand Old Flag," simultaneously.) David Brinkley: "A rather furious contest between the delegation and the convention orchestra-"

The string section, sawing away furiously in their tuxedos.

"The conductor keeps on asking for 'one more chorus.'"

"They're now raising in the middle of the delegation a long piece of black cloth in mourning for their hopes, which they had to smuggle into the hall."

Someone explains why the STOP THE WAR STOP THE WAR signs are so flimsy: they were printed on tissuey paper and smuggled inside within newspapers. "One New York delegate was stopped by security police here in the convention hall yesterday for bringing in a copy of the signs are so flimsy: they were printed on tissuey paper and smuggled inside within newspapers. "One New York delegate was stopped by security police here in the convention hall yesterday for bringing in a copy of the New York Times, New York Times, which is considered by some people in the United States to be a dangerous instrument." which is considered by some people in the United States to be a dangerous instrument."

They throw to another reporter describing another interview with Eugene McCarthy, denying that he was about to start a third or fourth party, but that he certainly wouldn't rule it out for future elections.

"We can now count New Hamps.h.i.+re, Mississippi, Colorado, Oregon, Wisconsin, Nebraska, Alaska, and Vermont, who have joined New York in this extraordinary demonstration of antiwar sentiment on the convention floor along with a great part of the alternate section and the galleries-"

"John, they may realize that the orchestra may run into a union problem! I'd think an orchestra has to be given five minutes' rest every hour or something like that."

"And these people," John Chancellor says from the midst of an arm-in-arm chorus of McCarthy delegates bellowing the "Battle Hymn of the Republic," "I think they could go on forever."

The anchor announces that the chairman has managed to belt out a call for a recess until six thirty. You decide to tune in then. A war has broken out on the floor of an American major-party convention. You can't imagine anything more engrossing than this.

"I'm with two adornments of the Florida delegation," says Edwin Newman, putting his microphone before two smartly dressed suburban women.

"Mrs. Heatter, you're not particularly happy with the way the convention has gone, I think."

"No, I'm a McCarthy delegate, and this is my first time at a convention, and I had the dreams from high school democracy cla.s.s, that everybody voted their conscience, and everyone voted for their const.i.tuents, because they were elected delegates. And that's not how it goes. I hear people say, 'What am I supposed to vote here?' not, 'What is the issue?'"

"Who are 'they,' Mrs. Heatter?"

"I don't know, but they look like they've had a lot of experience with conventions.... I think we should have a new system...the people at home want things so badly, and the delegates-at-large and people like that don't give it to them...there's going to be people who say, 'It doesn't matter at all.'"

The Wisconsin chairman, reflecting on the changes in his old friend Hubert Humphrey: "His subservience to the president seems to have changed changed him." Richard Goodwin, the former JFK speechwriter, on the pro-LBJ Vietnam plank that pa.s.sed 1,567 votes to 1,041: "If the vice president is nominated, I think he has the task of going to the country and saying, 'I offer you more of the same.'...I think it's an untenable position." him." Richard Goodwin, the former JFK speechwriter, on the pro-LBJ Vietnam plank that pa.s.sed 1,567 votes to 1,041: "If the vice president is nominated, I think he has the task of going to the country and saying, 'I offer you more of the same.'...I think it's an untenable position."

That position is countered by hangdog old Paul Douglas, the former Illinois senator beaten in 1966, the liberal hawk who had fronted for the White House's fake Citizens Committee for Peace with Freedom in Vietnam.

John Chancellor: "I a.s.sume you're pleased with the plank."

"Yes, I am, and I don't think it's a pro-war plank. It's a plank for mutual progress toward peace.... After the record the Communists have made in various parts of the world, that it would be putting our troops in danger if we made a series of one-sided sacrifices that were not met by any reciprocal actions on their part.... In the long run, people will react properly...the vast majority will fall in and support Humphrey."

A Connecticut McCarthy delegate complains about the galleries being empty for the dramatic peace-plank vote-something "they did to control the demonstration in the galleries."

The reporter, with agitation: "Well, then, I'm trying to find out-I've been trying to find out for the past two days, who who are you talking about when you say are you talking about when you say they they? It sounds like a Kafka novel."

The Connecticut delegate, who has sideburns: "It's very hard to find out. I know that earlier in the day, we were trying to bring in minority-report literature, and we were told for the first time that a delegation"-he sighs incredulously-"could not bring literature to the floor. Other literature has been coming in constantly...a new rule came up and we were not able to bring pertinent materials to the floor."

Chet Huntley: "Ahhh, do? What-I understand that Mayor Daley is in the hall."

The camera is now on Daley, his jowls, his scowl, men attending to him as if he were a Bourbon potentate. Brinkley jokes, "Well, he left the hall in a fleet of black limousines, spent a while, and came back in a fleet of black limousines. And so we take it for granted that he did better than hot dogs.

"Which no one else has done," Brinkley adds with some irritation, before cutting to a cartoon of Goofy and Professor von Drake toodling along in their Model T singing praises for Gulf Oil's miraculous "No-Nox" gasoline.

You flip on the set after supper. A young Colorado delegate is being interviewed: "Peter, I'm going to get a little personal. You have fairly long sideburns, and a cowlick hanging down there"-Peter smiles shyly-"but you are after all a very clean and good-looking young man. And yet we heard this morning Wayne Hays from the podium denounce those who wore long sideburns and a whole list of things."

(Ohio congressman Wayne Hays had spoken from the podium about those who "subst.i.tute sideburns for sense" and "beards for brains.") "What kind of effect did that have on you?"

"I think it's very funny. It's an unfortunate situation where it judges its people by the length of their hair, by the clothes that they wear. I think indications of this in Chicago, with the almost garrison state that we have existing downtown in Chicago, is disgraceful in America.

"The freedom of speech, the freedom of choice in what you wear, how you look, is one of the most important things we have."

A New Jersey delegate, Mrs. Elizabeth Wenk, asked about the announcement of Boston 5 codefendant Marcus Raskin that he would be holding a meeting the Friday after the convention to form a fourth party, and whether she would be attending: "Maybe if Senator McCarthy is not nominated."

David Brinkley, going through some registration figures: Americans aged twenty-one to twenty-nine "have the poorest record of all, with forty-nine percent unregistered. So it provokes the question-is neither of the parties attracting the youngsters?"

A Gulf commercial: A couple pulls into a filling station, where they're giving out a free donkey or elephant pin with every fill-up. The husband wants the donkey. The wife wants the elephant: "I think it's very important to be strict."

The broadcast is rejoined. Huntley goes into a reflection about Humphrey: "The Southern delegations that hated him, walked out on him twenty years ago, are now among his warmest friends, and the liberals to whom he was a hero twenty years ago are now among his warmest enemies."

Paul Newman boringly reading out a boring speech: "I hope and pray that we Democrats, win or lose, can campaign not as a crusade to exterminate the opposing party, as our opponents seem to prefer, but as a great opportunity to educate and elevate." This is from Adlai Stevenson's 1952 acceptance speech, read in tribute to Stevenson's insistence that Democrats remain nicer than Richard Nixon.

You step to the fridge for a beer.

You hear from the kitchen the anchors giggling a little about the ha.s.sles at the headquarters hotel, the Conrad Hilton: "Long waits for the elevator, you cannot get clothes pressed, you can't get laundry done, you can't get room service, and now it's filling up with tear gas!"

This is something. You return to your seat.

A correspondent in front of a Humphrey poster (SOME TALK ABOUT CHANGE. OTHERS CAUSE IT), describing how they're giving out hundreds of HHH signs, of the sort that were banned for McGovern and McCarthy: "I've just learned that about fifty of the loyal Mayor Daley political aides have been allowed to enter the convention hall. As a matter of fact they came in through the main delegate gate carrying alternate delegate tickets for last Monday night's session!"

John Chancellor with John Connally of Texas, who smiles with phoniness about the vice presidency: "I doubt I've ever been in the running.... I made the decision last fall not to run for another term as governor and retire to private life, and those are my very firm wishes and desires." But the person whom Vice President Humphrey does does choose should have "a background and experience slightly more moderate than his own.... I'm not sure this year is a year when a great liberal is going to get all of the support that is needed to be elected.... The people are frustrated, the people are upset, you see it at every turn, you see it at this convention. People are operating more and more on an emotional basis. They're...frequently overreacting to any given situation." choose should have "a background and experience slightly more moderate than his own.... I'm not sure this year is a year when a great liberal is going to get all of the support that is needed to be elected.... The people are frustrated, the people are upset, you see it at every turn, you see it at this convention. People are operating more and more on an emotional basis. They're...frequently overreacting to any given situation."

At the guest entrance, where a group of people carrying HHH WIN IN ILLINOIS HHH WIN IN ILLINOIS signs file by. The reporter: "The anti-Humphrey people are considerably unhappy about it." signs file by. The reporter: "The anti-Humphrey people are considerably unhappy about it."

The camera zooms in on a stream of beefy men lumbering down the stairs past the California delegates at a remote corner of the hall: "And there have been some words exchanged between them."

"And the rules on the floor, David, have undergone a sudden change."

And a Gulf filling-station clerk dashes through a pack of rabid dogs to make it to a customer's car within ten seconds.

Then back again to Chet Huntley: "There have been demonstrations at this early hour in downtown Chicago's Grant Park. We heard a moment ago that tear gas has been used. As the demonstrators are attempting to form a line of parade and march toward, or on, the amphitheater, Aline Saarinen has a report describing what is going on."

The TV images that would shake American politics like none had since Watts in 1965 began innocuously enough: on NBC, above a chyron reading TAPED, TAPED, it looked like a busy New York rush hour, though some are holding handkerchiefs to their faces. it looked like a busy New York rush hour, though some are holding handkerchiefs to their faces.

Peace marchers who started out walking south met a wall of police and turned northward into the plaza containing Buckingham Fountain, then looped around to head south again, avoiding the cops. So the hemmed-in cops threw tear-gas canisters across the street at the apex of the marchers' U-turn-which was the sidewalk in front of the building that billed itself as "the world's largest and friendliest hotel." GRANT PARK, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, GRANT PARK, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, the chyron now reads, and a woman's voice says, "The kids are still marching, it looks like a whole gathering of people with terrible colds"; and then Brinkley back in the convention hall: "Mrs. Saarinen has been ga.s.sed in the course of that report, has received medical attention, and is all right." the chyron now reads, and a woman's voice says, "The kids are still marching, it looks like a whole gathering of people with terrible colds"; and then Brinkley back in the convention hall: "Mrs. Saarinen has been ga.s.sed in the course of that report, has received medical attention, and is all right."

The next image, appropriately enough, is a commercial about the joy brought to a small Louisiana town when Gulf built a chemical plant.

"Now to Edwin Newman on the floor."

"I am with the Reverend Richard Neuhaus, the chairman of Clergy and Laymen Concerned about Vietnam. Reverend Neuhaus, you're organizing a walkout tonight because of the antic.i.p.ated nomination of Vice President Humphrey. How big a walkout will it be?"

"Well, if Vice President Humphrey is nominated, it won't take much organizing. I antic.i.p.ate we're going to have at least two hundred delegates walking out of the convention-not necessarily walking out of the party."

"What will the walkout mean?"

"I think the walkout will mean that they can under no circ.u.mstances support the presidential candidate. I think it will mean further that the Democratic Party has made a grievous mistake and just entirely missed, you know, the action of the past year and a half.... When, as we fear, with Vice President Humphrey as the candidate, the Democratic Party is defeated, we will be in a position to work for the renewal of the party."

Panning the hall: HHH flags, signs, balloons, banners, streamers, crowding every corner; then to a John Chancellor interview with the Reverend Channing Phillips of Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., the first Negro to be put in nomination at a major-party presidential convention: "Why are you wearing the black crepe paper around your arm, Reverend Phillips?"

"We put that piece of paper on after the minority plank on Vietnam lost at this convention. We think it's a sign of mourning for this country for its refusal to recognize its error in Vietnam and for continuing the policy of slaughter."

And the camera cuts to a plump woman in a tent of an orange floral dress with a HUMPHREY HUMPHREY banner flowing down her b.u.t.tocks dancing maniacally around with two banner flowing down her b.u.t.tocks dancing maniacally around with two HUMPHREY HUMPHREY balloons, and an Indian in full balloons, and an Indian in full HUMPHREY HUMPHREY war-bonnet, and Muriel Humphrey sitting expectantly in her VIP box; and a quant.i.ty of windbaggish favorite-son nominating speeches; and vice-presidential prognostications in the aisles; and more speeches; and pans of balloons and streamers and placards, and the band plays, and the seconding speaker for North Carolina's Governor Dan Moore drones; and David Brinkley says, "We are told that Vice President Humphrey got into the tear gas down in the area of Grant Park across from the Hilton Hotel a while ago. We'll have more details as soon as we get them. In the meantime we'll have this message from Gulf." war-bonnet, and Muriel Humphrey sitting expectantly in her VIP box; and a quant.i.ty of windbaggish favorite-son nominating speeches; and vice-presidential prognostications in the aisles; and more speeches; and pans of balloons and streamers and placards, and the band plays, and the seconding speaker for North Carolina's Governor Dan Moore drones; and David Brinkley says, "We are told that Vice President Humphrey got into the tear gas down in the area of Grant Park across from the Hilton Hotel a while ago. We'll have more details as soon as we get them. In the meantime we'll have this message from Gulf."