1968: The Plague Year

A look back at Lemon Grove 45 years when the nation coped with tragedy at home and abroad. 

Assassins:  A despairing Max Goodwin, editor of the Review, headlined this edition with "Search Continues in Civil Rights Slaying of Dr. King" and opined in his column, "The Dimmer View," that the nation needed an Assassination cabinet post.  This macabre suggestion came in the wake of the April 4, 1968 slaying of Martin Luther King, Jr., and the 1963 slaying of President John F. Kennedy. 

Wrote Goodwin, "The Assassination Secretary would coordinate all the activities stemming from the killing of a top public figure…so that a man who dies of violence could at least be interred with dignity." 

Appalled by the riots that followed Dr. King's murder, Goodwin's view reflected the national despair over the loss of iconic figures slain by weird loners for seemingly incomprehensible reasons, and over the shredding of generational ties under the pressure of Vietnam and the draft. 

Still to come, barely two months from the killing of Dr. King, was the second Kennedy killing:  Robert Kennedy, slain by Sirhan Sirhan, ironically on the anniversary of D-Day, June 6, during an emotional presidential campaign marked by chaotic anti-war and civil rights demonstrations. 

Tet:  Despair was compounded by the effects of the January Tet Offensive in Vietnam in which the Viet Cong took over the U.S. Embassy in Saigon and almost won the war.  Though they were turned back, with heavy casualties on both sides, they won a huge strategic victory.  The war would drag on for another seven years.  It would cast a shadow over America that is undiminished in 2013.   

Seven more years of young recruits would include: 

Painters:  The indefatigable Lemon Grove Women's Club held an art contest at Mt. Miguel High School and three young men, all candidates for the draft, won.  Tom Stumbaugh, Ron Mowery and Dave Detrez exhibited their work in U.S. National Bank on Broadway.  The file photo shows three serious faces, old beyond their years. 

Flaming Youth:  Lee Graeber, Newport Beach, ran teen dance clubs in California and Arizona.  But when he tried to start one at 7951 Broadway (today, Marco's Jewelry), the Sheriff said no.  Graeber had paid $15 for a license and vowed to spend "$20,000 to remodel the hall," but the Sheriff could reject any dance hall application if the neighbors complained. 

They did.  They remembered the 1965 dance hall at Broadway and Olive with its overcrowding, drunken kids, street fights, litter and general chaos.  Deputies were attacked with bottles and rocks while teens from all over the county converged on "Fayaton" to hear rock and roll and dance the night away. 

Graeber could appeal the denial of his license to the County Board of Supervisors and attempt to prove that his dance hall wasn't "contrary to public health, morals, peace, welfare and safety."  He appealed, but the Sheriff hung tough. 

Situation Normal:  Despite the prevailing desperation at the national level and the hints of local discord, the Review continued to document utterly normal activities on the home front.

Young people got married.  Students won awards.  Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts undertook good works.  Churches were in full swing.  The school district wrestled with its budget.  Lemon Grove Ford sold $5 million worth of cars.   

Situation Abnormal:  But soldiers and nurses continued to die in Vietnam.  Student protesters shut down Columbia University on Apr. 23 for a week.  The "Boxcar" nuclear bomb was detonated in Nevada.  Hair opened on Broadway and audiences walked out in rage while others cheered. 

Situation Indescribable:  On April 4, while James Earl Ray was shooting Dr. King at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, the Apollo-Saturn mission 502 (Apollo 6) was launched as the last unmanned test flight of the Saturn V launch vehicle. 

Lemon Grove was involved in the launch.  George Cremer, former 50-year resident of our H. Lee House, was the brilliant physicist who designed components for the Saturn series.  Later, a Saturn afterburner became the family barbecue in the back yard. 

The Wizard of Oz aired on NBC on April 20 and was repeated for the next eight years, breaking television viewing records and finally winning the enduring audience that  had escaped it back in 1939 when it competed with Gone With the Wind. 

And so it went on our little yellow brick road in Southern California in mid-April, 1968 when nothing was normal and yet everything was.