DIY History | Transcribe | Campus Culture | Student protests, 1972-1973 | 1972-01-30 New York Times Magazine Article: ""Metamorphosis Of A Campus Radical"" Page 4

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Student protests, 1972-1973

1972-01-30 New York Times Magazine Article: ""Metamorphosis Of A Campus Radical"" Page 4

I and nothing surprises me more than to be living in Iowa, unless it is that as a former Ivy Leauguer and editor, I am now a teacher at the University of Iowa. Iowa City is Grant Wood's town, surrounded by his cornfields and cluttered with the Eastern eye takes some months to find appealing.
On the street you see an occasional bonneted Amish woman, in town for a visit to the dentist, or an occasional farmer making a deposit at the bank, but most of the people who pass, and smile, are university students. There are 20,000 here, attractive kids, many of the girls fair and fine-featured with the Scandinavian look of their farming forebears. The boys are of course bearded and long-haired, and the fashions of the times, overalls, boots, gold-rimmed spectacles, granny skirts and shawls, give the town the look of a period piece--everyone made up for a revival of "Oklahoma!"
The illusion of yesterday was shattered for me shortly after my arrival here two years ago. One midnight I saw crowds of students running through the streets to confront platoons of county police, spacemen in their helmets and plastic visors, and in the morning I stoof looking into the smoking ruin of what had been the Rhetoric Building.
Now again, at the beginning of 1972, the feeling here as on other

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I and nothing surprises me more than to be living in Iowa, unless it is that as a former Ivy Leauguer and editor, I am now a teacher at the University of Iowa. Iowa City is Grant Wood's town, surrounded by his cornfields and cluttered with the Eastern eye takes some months to find appealing. On the street you see an occasional bonneted Amish woman, in town for a visit to the dentist, or an occasional farmer making a deposit at the bank, but most of the people who pass, and smile, are university students. There are 20,000 here, attractive kids, many of the girls fair and fine-featured with the Scandinavian look of their farming forebears. The boys are of course bearded and long-haired, and the fashions of the times, overalls, boots, gold-rimmed spectacles, granny skirts and shawls, give the town the look of a period piece--everyone made up for a revival of "Oklahoma!" The illusion of yesterday was shattered for me shortly after my arrival here two years ago. One midnight I saw crowds of students running through the streets to confront platoons of county police, spacemen in their helmets and plastic visors, and in the morning I stoof looking into the smoking ruin of what had been the Rhetoric Building. Now again, at the beginning of 1972, the feeling here as on other