Alone, at the Bottom of the World (part 30)

Watergate and Other Uglies

I had departed for New Zealand just two days after the massacre at the Munich Olympics in 1972. This terrible act seemed to usher in a time of frightening change. One of my sisters was watching the Olympics in the family room and called out, saying, "Oh no! Some people just got shot at Munich!"

http://www.flickr.com/photos/government_press_office/7710072398/

We were all horrified, and kept the TV at full volume as masked gunmen lurked in the shadows of the Olympic Village. We saw that over a span of time the Israeli team were taken hostage, some being shot, and all eventually killed. It was a bleak time for everyone, our first real experience with Terrorism. It certainly would not be our last.

There followed for me that significant year at the bottom of the World. It was an utter contrast from the chaos of those shattered Games witnessed by so many through television.Throughout the year, we studied and served and heard very little news of events elsewhere in the world. I do not remember even seeing a television.

Therefore, upon my return home I knew of virtually nothing after the massacre at the Munich Games. U.S. involvement in Viet Nam had just recently ended. Former president Johnson had died. And what had been thought of as a minor break-in at the Watergate Hotel began to get increasing airplay. I came home to an alarming barrage of pessimism unknown just a year before.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/tonynetone/2623748139/

Someone asked me what I thought about 'Watergate'. I didn't know and had to ask what she was talking about. After she told me, I wished that I could forget about it.

But no one could forget about it.

The situation was remarkable for its slow moving drama. First there was the break in, then the newspaper articles, then the resignations of top White House aides, followed by Senate hearings. Everything was drawn out over the following year in excruciating detail, ending in the calamity of a presidential resignation. 

So, coming home was terrific and lovely, but also confusing in its sadder misadventures. In 1969 I had witnessed a year of college campus rebellions and Moratoriums and sit-ins; but this time, no one seemed to be marching. No speeches were made with angry signs waving in the breeze. Students simply stood watching it all on the M.U. screens and looked worried.

We've been through strange and hard times before because we stuck together. We figured it could only get better.

After all, we still had Jimmy Carter to look forward to.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/government_press_office/7710072398/">Government Press Office (GPO)</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tonynetone/2623748139/">tonynetone</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>