1968 and a crazy, raging Chicago

Democratic Party members holding placards in support of Hubert Humphrey, a nominee for the Democratic Party's 1968 presidential candidate, at the 1968 Democratic National Convention, in Chicago, Illinois. (Photo by Archive Photos/Getty Images)

1968 was an unbelievably volatile year in American history. Almost every generation could name a pivotal year that challenged their very identity. I think 2020 was certainly another one of those years considering the Presidential election. Most of the turmoil of 1968 was related to the Vietnam War with the anti-war protests led by the hippies alongside racial strife. President Lyndon Johnson was criticized for escalating the war, then pilloried for not doing enough.

On March 31 that year, Johnson shocked the nation when he delivered his “Withdrawal Speech,” informing Americans that he would not run for re-election. Miraculously, the speech wasn’t leaked. The president said that with American troops risking their lives for the country every day in Vietnam, he couldn’t spend even an hour worrying about a campaign, so there wouldn’t be one for him. He said he planned to focus on dealing with the ongoing war. His announcement caused a seismic shift in the political landscape at a perilous time.

Back in November of 1967, Sen. Eugene McCarthy had officially entered the Democratic primary to run against Johnson. As we say in the South, that takes a lot of gumption and gall. It was unprecedented to take on an incumbent president from one’s own party at that time, but McCarthy gathered a lot of support, particularly from young people disillusioned with the war and the state of the country. It would be just a few months later that Martin Luther King would die in St. Joseph’s Hospital in Memphis.

King’s death further inflamed racial tensions, as Congress continued to expand the Civil Rights Act. The Vietnam War protests continued apace. The late President John Kennedy’s brother, the former U.S. attorney general, Robert Kennedy, entered the race for president and had just won the California Democratic primary in June. He was assassinated in Los Angeles on the way to deliver his victory speech. The killing of a second prominent political figure on the left side of the political aisle further stoked the anger, frustration, and dismay that was swelling throughout the country. Thus, it felt ironic to me that the “Establishment” candidate supported by Johnson and his followers was Vice President Hubert Humphrey. Known as “the happy warrior,” he was probably one of the more liberal members of the U.S. Senate when he represented Minnesota, prior to becoming vice president. Interestingly, he was generally viewed as the “conservative establishment” candidate by many.

As we approached the Democratic Convention in August in Chicago, McCarthy was still running strong when South Dakota Sen. George McGovern entered the race. Rep. Hale Boggs of Louisiana, the House Majority Whip and an influential member of the Democratic Congressional Delegation, called Tennessee Gov. Buford Ellington, seeking assistance. Boggs headed the platform committee, which developed the Democratic platform for the convention (although the platform might be abandoned later; at the time, it was important). The governor asked me to attend, and I gladly accepted since the convention sounded like an exciting and interesting experience.

The televised committee meetings were in Washington D.C., just before the convention in August. It became quite a spectacle, particularly with the dynamic, headline-seeking congressman from San Francisco, Rep. Phil Burton in attendance. Burton was dominating and vicious in going after the administration and the cabinet members; he and others basically made everything about dealing with Vietnam, and racial unrest to a lesser extent, much more so than platform issues.

One of the most telling moments occurred when Secretary of State Dean Rusk was testifying before the committee. Appointed by Johnson, he had been a widely respected, and a qualified diplomat who brought dignity and balance (I thought) to the State Department and as a representative of the administration. Rusk was getting so unmercifully grilled that it was almost difficult to watch, but he was a pro and handled himself with aplomb. During the intense interrogation, which was supposed to have been a question and answer session, somebody came from backstage and tapped Rusk on the shoulder. As he listened, I could see his shoulders slump. Rusk turned back to the microphone, hesitated for a few seconds, and said he had to leave. The Soviet Union had just sent troops to invade Czechoslovakia, and he had to deal with that situation. That moment brought home to me that other things were occurring in the world, and that people carried other responsibilities wherever they went. It didn’t offset any of the vitriolic reactions or attitudes in that room on that day, but it was sobering to me and, I think, to anybody in the room at that moment. At least temporarily.

We moved on to the convention in Chicago. Gov. Ellington headed the Tennessee delegation; I wasn’t a delegate myself, but had staff credentials to attend the same events as the delegates. Those four days, August 26-29, saw one of the most riotous, literally, conventions that have ever taken place. Much of the ruckus occurred outside of the convention hall. Most of the delegates stayed in the Palmer Hotel. We walked back and forth to the convention center for meetings, but never felt unsafe. We were shielded by nearly wall-to-wall police protection outside. It was only later that we realized how tumultuous things actually were, once we had a chance to watch television and view the rioting in Grant Park and other places. The charges of police brutality seemed justified. The newscasts clearly showed the police attacking protesters and turning them into rioters; in many instances, they caused the riots. Chicago Mayor Richard J. Daley was perfectly cast as the bully. Though roundly mocked, he would do anything to control his city. It was a brutal undertaking with many bloodied heads and numerous people hospitalized. Amazingly, not a single death occurred outside of the convention hall, despite all of the rioting that took place.

Nothing in my previous political experience could have possibly prepared me for the convention itself.

As an “insider” on staff, I thought that most fictional portrayals of a convention on the television screen were, by and large, “B movies” stuff.

Tennessee had a prominent location in the hall because of its relationship with President Johnson. By the second session of the first day, the craziness erupted. The larger Massachusetts delegation was seated behind us, where noted economist, political activist and speaker John Kenneth Galbraith quickly established his presence. He sounded as if he was having a highly emotional fit, jeering, as he was hoisted  back and forth over the standing Massachusetts delegation, which was clearly extremely distraught over the loss of another native Kennedy son. I saw people yelling from the floor and the balcony and thought, “I’m now living in a B-movie.”

Watching democracy in action was a terribly painful experience (literally, in some cases, for the protestors). There was never a moment where everyone came together and united. Even the national anthem drew sitting protests. Ironically, the only quiet moments were outside, as we walked back to the hotel, flanked by police.

Vice President Humphrey was the nominee, and Sen. Edmund Muskie of Maine, the vice presidential candidate.

As if the campaign of 1968 wasn’t volatile enough, Alabama Gov. George Wallace, a staunch segregationist, entered the race as a third-party candidate. Nixon won, of course, by less than 1% over Humphrey. Wallace earned nearly 10 million votes and 46 delegates. Those were anti -votes, not anti-Vietnam votes, necessarily; it was more likely they were racially motivated votes. I agree with most pundits who said the outcome would have been higher in favor of Nixon if Wallace hadn’t run. In Tennessee, the outcome was Nixon with 47.6%, Wallace 34%, with Humphrey coming in third with 28.1%. Prior to that time, Tennessee had enjoyed a predominantly Democratic legislature for 50 years. It’s hard to ascertain how much the national election affected things statewide, but the Republicans ended up with 49 members as did the Democrats. There was one independent  from Knoxville who voted with the Republicans.

One of the reasons I bring that up is to show how bipartisanship continued in some places during those turbulent times. As a Democratic administration, we were going to be dealing with a Republican House of Representatives. The Speaker of the House was a Republican friend, Bill Jenkins, from the small city of Rogersville in upper East Tennessee. As the state government, we really didn’t miss a beat.

The leadership from the Republican House and the Democratic Senate would get together in the governor’s office and review the agenda. When a partisan issue would arise, each side would negotiate their respective positions, and then we’d get back together to address the state’s problems and opportunities. This bipartisanship was so reflective of the times: as we had many strong Republican friends in both houses, who were important contributors to policies and laws, and who supported our tax programs earlier in 1968 when the Democrats were in control.

Some of the Republicans who put the best interests of the state first, in addition to Speaker Jenkins, were Sens. Tommy Garland, Ben Atchley, Tommy Haun from East Tennessee and Leonard Dunavant from Memphis, along with Reps. Tom Jensen and David Copeland. While 1968 was one of the most volatile years in American politics, we found common ground in Tennessee.

(Originally published in Roberts’s first book, Forever Young, which can be viewed along with his current release, Flaming Moderate, at flamingmoderatebook.com .)

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