I stole the title of this piece from a song title by Gil Scott Heron which first appeared on his 1970 album “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox.”
San Francisco, California — early 1970 and the magic was gone. Two years had passed since the Death of the Hippy ceremony in Haight-Ashbury. The rise of hard drugs and the violence at the Altamont Free Concert had left a bitter taste. The flower children of the ‘60s had matured in the heat of the Long Hot Summer and the jungles of Vietnam. The March on the Pentagon, the Students for a Democratic Society, Peoples Park, the occupation of Alcatraz Island, and in just a couple of months - four students would be killed by National Guard Troops at Kent State. The country was fractured along countless political-ideological lines.
But these are only the circumstances against which I write this remembrance. The setting on this occasion was a late winter’s day walking beneath the old San Francisco Embarcadero Freeway (State Route 480).
I no longer remember what had C.J. and I walking North along the Embarcadero but the roar of the traffic above and beside us filled our ears even while the beautiful San Francisco Bay and the approaching Ferry Building filled our view.
Our discussion ran deep at least for this 19 year old – we were discussing politics. LBJ had been out of office for a year and it was good riddance as far as I was concerned. Despite his Great Society Programs, his legacy was the blood of thousands of American boys – boys my age – and I had no desire to follow them off to Vietnam. The new President, upon his inauguration had given us some pause for hope and some of the troops had been called home but recently the draft had been extended two more years and when the president confirmed he had ordered incursions into Cambodia many a college campus rose in protest and student strikes.
The years of war were beginning to weigh on the economy and though I was too naive to fully grasp it beyond the Socialist rhetoric of the day; the middle-class was increasingly squeezed as inflation ballooned steadily throughout the following decade.
So in the middle of this conversation I asked C.J. the most important question I knew to ask, “When was the revolution going to happen?” (You know; the counterculture/social revolution many dreamed of in the ‘60s.) C.J. looked at me and summoned his great wisdom of some 25 years and said, “It’s already happened, it’s already over.” In that instant I was crushed his words draining all hope from within me.
“What do you mean?” I challenged as we strode towards the terminus of Market Street. “Nothing has changed! This country still sucks!” He looked at me and said, “The thing about this society is, movement’s are no longer a spring board to change [or revolution], given time, they are simply assimilated – crushed under the desire to make a buck and move on.” Suddenly the sound of the cars on the freeway above began to drone louder and drown out his words.
I no longer recall the exact words that followed but they were in effect, the ’60s counter culture will be absorbed, commercialized and exploited but hopefully some bits will be adapted and used to improve our lives. Of course the commercialization was already happening but it has taken the passage of time to see how a few heady years would improve our lives - particularly environmentally and sociologically. We would eventually withdraw from Vietnam, The Clean Air and Water Acts would be adopted, the EPA and OSHA were established, we would sign the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty. Title IX, the Equal Employment Opportunity Act, and the Comprehensive Child Development Act were all enacted (under a Republican administration). And while the ERA was not ratified in time to become a constitutional amendment the right of a woman to privacy under due process in how she chooses to best protect her health finally appeared codified under Roe v. Wade
A 2011 Footnote –
Nineteen years later, the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake seriously damaged the Embarcadero Freeway. Cal-trans, many merchants, and politicians wanted a rebuild of the two-level structure while the mayor proposed a boulevard and tunnel option. When the state refused to finance the tunnel option the mayor scrapped his tunnel plan. Almost two years passed; opposition waned, the demolition went forward, and the unexpected happened. San Franciscans rediscovered their waterfront and found other ways to get to where they needed to go. The Embarcadero had become a grand boulevard with beautiful squares and plazas, lined with trees and public art, it even had its historic streetcar brought back.
The call for change often seems like an earthquake is shaking us to the core but the act of rebuilding afterwards rarely produces anything as drastic as anticipated at least until the years have clarified the truly long term effects and brought to light benefits outside our original vision or consequences we failed to see.
The 2025 Footnote –
(To paraphrase Gil Scott Heron, the current populist authoritarian revolution is coming to you live!)
William James once wrote, "The greatest revolution in our generation is that of human beings, who by changing the inner attitudes of their minds can change the outer aspects of their lives" and these words hold just as true today. Depending on how you count it, four or five generations have come of age since that day on The Embarcadero. The same party that put many of those sweeping changes into effect has turned its back on most of them and now seeks to dismantle many others. I too have come full circle and like that 19 year old of so many years ago, am waiting for the revolution that will change the inner attitudes of my fellow countrymen and allow all of us to embark on a new road of acceptance that returns compassion and empathy to their rightful place – at least in our corner of the planet.
