I grew up within 40 miles of Kent State University and was a high school sophomore on May 4, 1970. Students had been demonstrating all weekend against US incursion into Cambodia. Some of it had grown violent, with an ROTC building being burned down and students who engaged in rock-throwing at National Guardsmen sent to keep the peace.  Four students died when the National Guard troops ordered to Kent by then Ohio governor James Rhodes opened fire with lives rounds. Sixty-seven shots were fired. Nine others were wounded.  Two of the four students who died, William Schroeder and Sandra Scheuer, were not part of the demonstrations and were walking to class, nearly 400 feet away. Sandra Scheuer grew up in Boardman, Ohio, a suburb neighboring my home town of Youngstown.

We were shopping for spring flowers at our local nursery yesterday when Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Ohio” came on their PA system. The memories came flooding back. Mostly what I remember are three things. One was the day after and walking around as a high school sophomore in shock that this could happen so close to home. Another was that a girl from the Mahoning Valley was among those who died. And the third was fear as I overheard adults who said, “they should have shot more of them.” My hair was kind of long at the time. I wondered how some of them looked at me. That’s an indication of how divided we were as a country at the time over the Viet Nam war and how divided generationally we were.

I find myself reflecting on three things today. One is the importance of responsible dissent. Student dissent did contribute to ending the Viet Nam war and the events at Kent State were part of what caused our nation to pause. Yet not all of the dissent at Kent was responsible. When dissent escalates from words to acts of violence against people and property, we deepen the divides between us. It is also folly to take on an armed force, presuming it won’t act when life and limb are at risk of harm.

The Guardsmen were also victims that day. They were in a situation for which they were not trained, and they bore the opprobrium of many afterwards, as did returning veterans from the war. It seems that we have learned since to focus more attention on the elders who make such decisions rather than the young men and women who have to put themselves in harm’s way.

Finally, I think about how the war divided our generations. It is not only a case of old men ordering the young into battle. It is what happens when public trust is broken and the keepers of that trust (and those who believe in the keepers) and the ones who are served by those leaders are set at odds with each other. This points up the deep responsibility of those of us who are elders to think not only about protecting our interests, but most deeply, about caring for the next generation when we face such decisions.

If those of us who were young at the time of Kent State can remember these lessons now that we are older, and pass them along, perhaps then we might avoid the sad situation of governors giving orders that result in the killing of our children.