I recall the events of 1968 with vivid clarity, stemming from my experience as a young man caught in the tumult of the Democratic Convention.

I was called to testify before a Grand Jury, recounting my observations from the streets of Chicago during that chaotic time. A mix-up occurred when I referred to "clubs" in the context of motorcycle groups, while the inquiry pertained to weapons. After a perplexing exchange, I was ultimately dismissed, leaving with my notes and papers that I had withheld from the FBI.

After graduating from Illinois Wesleyan University in 1963, I was fortunate to land a position in the City Council Division, thanks to my Ward Committeeman, John C. Marcin. It was thrilling to work close to Mayor Richard J. Daley, who later asked me to keep an eye on events in Lincoln Park during the convention. My role evolved, leading to my involvement in marches and planning sessions with notable figures like Abby Hoffman.

Reflecting on these memories, I recall the Saturday before the convention. I rode my Yamaha dirt bike to the Lincoln Park Field House to meet my friend Chuck Valorz, the Park Director. By mid-morning, a sizable crowd was practicing "snake lines," a tactic devised to breach police barriers.

Chuck introduced me to Commander Riorden, who asked me to remain in the park and report any developments, as his undercover officers were likely known to the protest leaders. That day proved crucial; my pass protected me during a later melee I inadvertently instigated.

On Wednesday night, I was tasked with scouting a Communist Party meeting, which led to an unexpected heist of socialist literature and a guitar. This was a chaotic time, filled with anticipation and uncertainty as I navigated the city, blending in with the protesters.

As tensions escalated, I witnessed the arrival of the National Guard and the police, ready to confront the demonstrators. My attire, featuring a whimsical slogan, seemed to provoke mixed reactions from the troops.

By Sunday morning, the atmosphere was thick with the aftermath of the previous day's events. The police response had inadvertently unified various factions of protesters, turning passive individuals into active participants. The phrase "Off the Pigs" echoed through the park, signaling a shift in sentiment.

As the Chicago Seven began to organize, I found myself appointed as a marshal, sporting a black armband and aiding Abby Hoffman. Our interactions were marked by a shared commitment to peace, even as the situation grew increasingly volatile.

Memories of the following days blend together, filled with urgency and a sense of purpose. My time in the city was not just about witnessing events; it was about participating in a larger movement.

On the fateful Wednesday, the atmosphere was charged. Abby Hoffman's arrest sparked outrage among the crowd, and calls for action grew louder. The march toward the Hilton was met with resistance, culminating in a confrontation with law enforcement that remains etched in my memory.

Amidst the chaos, I felt both exhilarated and frightened, navigating the tumultuous landscape of protests and police responses. I aimed to help those in distress, ferrying individuals to safety as tear gas filled the air.

Reflecting on the events, I recognize the complexities of that time. My involvement was shaped not only by a desire to witness history but also by a commitment to activism.

After the convention, I continued my engagement in environmental issues and social justice, forging a path that intertwined with my experiences in Chicago.

As I write these reflections, I hope to convey the significance of this tumultuous period in my life, not only for my own understanding but also for future generations to grasp the complexities of activism and the power of civic engagement.

In pondering why the 1968 riots transpired, I find myself reminiscing in peaceful surroundings, contemplating the events and their far-reaching implications. The memories linger, reminding me of the passion and fervor that characterized that era.

While the riotous atmosphere may seem distant now, the lessons learned remain relevant, illustrating the importance of standing up for one’s beliefs in the face of adversity.

These reflections, originally penned in 1994, take on new meaning as we approach the 2024 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, a reminder of the enduring impact of those historical events.