January 20, 1972

(click on the article to enlarge)

I didn't attend the assembly that is mentioned in the article I posted. What I recall was walking down a dark empty hallway with my books in my arms and finding the door to my history class still locked. I stood in the doorway as the riot descended down the hallway towards me. A black (is that politically incorrect? I apologize if it is) classmate hollered at me to get the 'H' outta there. I think I was in shock. Another girl that I did not know grabbed my books and started pulling on them. The classmate I knew came to my rescue telling her to leave me out of it. But as she walked me out of the fighting, her arm around my shoulder another girl hit me over the head with a combination lock. The fighting only extended about halfway down the hall. Further down at the intersection was a gathering of students and teachers. My classmate handed me over to them and headed back into the fray. Being a head wound, by the time we got to the nurses office I had blood down to my waist. They put ice and pressure on my wound and by the time my dad got there to pick me up it had stopped bleeding. He had picked me up on the way back to his office and had a client with him so we had to make a detour to drop off the client before going to the hospital. We didn't hurry. I was the unnamed student mentioned that went to the hospital. They put in stitches, don't remember how many, 3 or 4? By the time we got home, rumors were flying. My locker-mates were concerned because they found my bloody books. Someone was saying that I had gotten my throat slit.

Later, back in school, I asked my classmate that had helped me to introduce me to the person that hit me over the head. She set up the meeting in the student lounge. I went alone, the other girl didn't. I held out my hand and told her, "no hard feelings." I know that she didn't hit me personally, because she didn't know me. I just wanted the fighting to stop.