Tag Archives: May 4

I’ve always had a weird fascination with May 4, and this semester I had a chance to take a class I’ve wanted to take for a long time: May 4 and its aftermath. We had to read the book Hippies, which was written by Peter Jedick, a Kent State graduate who was present during the shootings on May 4, 1970. The book is excellent and I highly recommend it. You can read a chapter here: Hippies. Jedick came in to speak to my class yesterday. One student asked him if he knew any of the students who were killed, and he said he was friends with Sandy Scheuer. When he started to talk about Sandy, he got choked up. That’s when it all came home for me. No matter how many books I read about May 4, how many documentaries I watch or how many people I speak with, hearing Jedick talk about Sandy’s sense of humor and how she had a nickname for him, that’s when it finally felt real to me. Even though I believe we should always remember May 4, I know I’ll never fully understand it because I wasn’t there. Jedick made me the event human. He took it out of the history books, out of the classroom, and made May 4 personal. I think that’s what so many people my age don’t realize. May 4 is a deeply personal day to so many people. Jedick lost his friend Sandy. Sandy, who could make anyone laugh and who called Jedick “Lou.” I doubt he realizes it, but he put the tragedy into a new perspective for me, and I’m forever grateful.

photo story I did for class on the annual May 4 commemoration

Hundreds of pairs of feet scuff across the pavement. Cold hands clasp paper cups with short stubby candles sitting in them. Every few minutes the wind races around our bodies, threatening to exstinguish the tiny flames.

But still we march.

This was my second year participating in the May 4 silent candlelight march. Last year I managed to drag my friend along, but this year I went alone. My friends don’t understand my fascination with May 4, 1970. They don’t know why something that happened 38 years ago means so much to me. After last year though, I got tired of explaining it to them.

The first time I visited Kent State was May 5. I remembered reading about the shootings in my history book, and I knew that it was a defining factor of Kent State. Still, that day I didn’t know the half of it. I remember walking around Taylor Hall (the old journalism school) and seeing the remnants of the day before were everywhere. Messages of peace were scrawled on the pavement in chalk. Rocks lay scattered around the spots where the four students were shot. It would be a year before I understood the significance of the rocks. I remember hundreds of lillies planted on the hill; one for each soldier who had died in Iraq. At that moment I realized May 4 wasn’t just something in my history book. It was something that defined a generation, a school and a nation.

Some people hate the fact that Kent State is defined by May 4. Well like it or not, it’s history and it’s not going anywhere. Ignoring it is ignorant and disrespectful. Even if the administration chooses to ignore it, even if my friends don’t understand, and even if each year, less people show up to the ceremonies, I’ll still be there.

So why do I march? I march because as a Kent State student, I want to remember my history. I march in remembrance of Jeffrey Miller, Sandra Scheuer, William Schroeder and Allison Krause. I march because even though it happened almost forty years ago, it’s still relevant. Above all though, I march because it just feels right.