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Inside University Hall, Kilbreths Debated, Waited for Police to Move In

By Adam A. Sofen, Crimson Staff Writer

Inside University Hall on the night of April 9-10, 1969, Elizabeth H. Kilbreth '71-'73 and James T. Kilbreth '69 were more concerned with short-term problems than anything else--they knew that police would come soon to end the takeover and feared injury or arrest.

But the events of those two days continue to have an impact on their lives even today. As a result of their participation in the takeover, Elizabeth spent two years away from Radcliffe. James spent nine months in a Massachusetts prison. The married couple who met as student radicals in 1968 would never again inhabit the more innocent world of their parents and their youth.

In April 1969, Elizabeth was a Radcliffe sophomore who had become involved with Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) in her first year. She later became a co-chair of Harvard's SDS chapter. Though Radcliffe had only a quarter as many students as Harvard at that time, she says the campus was far more politically active.

"I think Radcliffe...as an institution had been more politicized--[protest] was more sporadic around Harvard," she says. "At dinner in the Radcliffe dorms, the discussion at almost all the tables in the dining room was about the war."

James was a senior in 1969 who had spent the last year agitating for the expulsion of the Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) from campus. The ROTC program represented Harvard's closest connection to the Vietnam War, he says.

"I had friends who I went to high school with who were killed in Vietnam," he says. "Everybody in that period had to ask themselves some pretty fundamental questions about what they believed and what they were going to do."

The two met at an SDS meeting in 1968 and were dating when both decided to join a rally outside University Hall April 9 that eventually led to the seizure of the building.

Taking University Hall

James came to the rally having planned with a small group of other students to enter the building. He and about 20 other students simply walked through the front door of University Hall--a deceptively simple start to what would soon become Harvard's most violent confrontation between students and the administration.

Inside, the students fanned out through the building, insisting that Harvard officials leave their offices. Secretaries and support staff departed immediately.

Some deans "were actually perfectly cordial and cooperative," James says, leaving as soon as students asked. Others were furious at the invasion.

"Their reactions ranged from 'What are you doing?' to 'You can't do this!' he says. "It was a mix."

Although some deans were carried out by force, James says he did not witness any violence on either side. His only physical contact was with Dean of Students Robert B. Watson, whose elbow he grabbed as he escorted him outside. James says Watson was unhurt.

The building was quickly cleared, and students barricaded most doors with chains, although students were posted at a few entrances to allow sympathizers to enter. Within half an hour, James says, about 500 students had crowded into University Hall.

Elizabeth remembers standing outside at the rally and being surprised when activists began to enter the hall.

"I hadn't known about it ahead of time," she says. "But the speeches being given on the steps...were encouraging people to take this action."

Elizabeth was one of the hundreds who entered the hall once it was cleared of Harvard personnel. She had supported the idea of a takeover all along, so she had no trouble walking in with the rest.

The atmosphere in the occupied building was serious, she says, as students began to recognize the gravity of what was occurring.

"People were aware that there was some danger, that the University could very well call in the police," she says. "They were aware that there was a counter-rally outside of students who were opposed to the takeover--it seemed very small, but it was very noisy."

Although her husband says the crowd was "probably more men than women," Elizabeth says she saw as many women as men.

Inside, she headed upstairs to the Faculty Room, where James had helped disrupt a Faculty meeting the previous December. Amid the paintings and marble busts of famous Harvard men, the students held a planning meeting that went on all day.

One of the first issues they confronted was whether to ban marijuana from the occupied building--several students lit up joints as soon as they got inside. The Kilbreths both supported the decision not to allow marijuana.

"We had enough to worry about without having drugs," James says.

Although police quickly closed the Yard, students flowed in and out all day.

"It didn't feel like being in an encampment or a besieged building," Elizabeth says.

James went outside several times to talk to hesitant supporters on the lawn--the crowd outside had swelled to thousands of activists and curious onlookers. He also left to buy food for the students, clambering over the gate after dark to avoid the barricades. Elizabeth stayed in the Faculty Room meet- ing all afternoon.

The Bust

As night fell, the students inside could seepolice from nearby towns as well as state trooperscollecting everywhere. The occupiers chained therest of the doors and the debate in the FacultyRoom gained intensity--should they fight back orresist non-violently?

Though a few students tried to sleep, James andElizabeth stayed up all night. Outside, thousandsmore kept vigil on the steps.

Around 3 a.m., students got word that thepolice were massing for attack. Most collected onthe first floor, packed shoulder to shoulder inthe hallways. Then police wearing riot helmetsbegan to batter down the door, removing the chainwith a special saw.

In the darkness and tumult, Elizabeth and Jamesremember certain details differently--he recallsthe police entering from the Widener side, whileshe says they swept in next to the John Harvardstatue. But they both agree that the violence leftthem confused and frightened.

"There were several moments of pretty close topanic among the students," she says. "There wasnowhere for them to go and the police were wadinginto them," trapping demonstrators against thewalls.

Police pushed from one direction, trying tofunnel students out the opposite side. There, agauntlet of officers shoved them into waitingpaddy wagons. Many students, jammed together inthe small space, were simply herded out by policewithout being attacked.

Elizabeth was shoved outside but was unhurt.James was beaten on the head with a billy club butwas uninjured once his bruises healed. Others wereless lucky.

"There was one girl who was in the Cambridgejail with me afterwards who had a pretty severelaceration on her head and later we learned had aconcussion," Elizabeth says.

She says women were treated no differently frommen, and James agrees that many women were beatenby officers.

In the confusion, "one woman was thrown fromthe window and landed on her back," James says."All sorts of people were beaten up prettybadly...A lot of people were hit on the head orhit on the shoulder, arms."

The couple was separated in the attack, andJames says he could not find his future wife untilmuch later in the day.

Students were taken to a police station in EastCambridge, where they were booked for trespassingand slowly released on bail as lawyers arrived.Although Harvard decided not to press furthercharges, an irate Watson, the dean of students,personally charged one graduate student withassault and battery--a decision that provedfateful for James.

While testifying in the graduate student'strial that fall, the district attorney directlyasked James if he had touched Watson. James wasforced to admit that he had.

He says the FBI had placed an informant amongthe group of activists who planned the graduatestudent's defense.

"The only way he would have known that was fromwhat we discussed in those meetings," he says."They had a pretty clear idea about who everyonewas, what everyone had done, and what the D.A.could use against them."

In May 1970, James, too, was tried andconvicted of assault and battery. The judgesentenced him to nine months in jail--the firstjail sentence ever doled out by a Massachusettscourt in an assault case with no injuries, hesays.

James served his full sentence. The day beforeCommencement, the University refused to issue hima diploma; he was only reinstated and allowed tograduate by a Faculty vote that took place whilehe was in jail.

Despite the injustice, he says, his treatmentat least convinced his parents to forgive theirson.

"They were very upset and angry with me, untilthey came to my trial," he says. "And then theywere very angry at Harvard."

The Kilbreths were married in 1971.

Today they say they have no regrets about theirparticipation in the takeover, although they havenot forgiven the University for what happened.

"It seems to me [that] the student movementactually did eventually end the war in Vietnam,and that's a tremendous accomplishment," Jamessays.

"On the other had, it's pretty clear it didn'tchange Harvard," he adds. "Harvard is, from what Ican tell, pretty much the way it's alwaysbeen--smug.

The Bust

As night fell, the students inside could seepolice from nearby towns as well as state trooperscollecting everywhere. The occupiers chained therest of the doors and the debate in the FacultyRoom gained intensity--should they fight back orresist non-violently?

Though a few students tried to sleep, James andElizabeth stayed up all night. Outside, thousandsmore kept vigil on the steps.

Around 3 a.m., students got word that thepolice were massing for attack. Most collected onthe first floor, packed shoulder to shoulder inthe hallways. Then police wearing riot helmetsbegan to batter down the door, removing the chainwith a special saw.

In the darkness and tumult, Elizabeth and Jamesremember certain details differently--he recallsthe police entering from the Widener side, whileshe says they swept in next to the John Harvardstatue. But they both agree that the violence leftthem confused and frightened.

"There were several moments of pretty close topanic among the students," she says. "There wasnowhere for them to go and the police were wadinginto them," trapping demonstrators against thewalls.

Police pushed from one direction, trying tofunnel students out the opposite side. There, agauntlet of officers shoved them into waitingpaddy wagons. Many students, jammed together inthe small space, were simply herded out by policewithout being attacked.

Elizabeth was shoved outside but was unhurt.James was beaten on the head with a billy club butwas uninjured once his bruises healed. Others wereless lucky.

"There was one girl who was in the Cambridgejail with me afterwards who had a pretty severelaceration on her head and later we learned had aconcussion," Elizabeth says.

She says women were treated no differently frommen, and James agrees that many women were beatenby officers.

In the confusion, "one woman was thrown fromthe window and landed on her back," James says."All sorts of people were beaten up prettybadly...A lot of people were hit on the head orhit on the shoulder, arms."

The couple was separated in the attack, andJames says he could not find his future wife untilmuch later in the day.

Students were taken to a police station in EastCambridge, where they were booked for trespassingand slowly released on bail as lawyers arrived.Although Harvard decided not to press furthercharges, an irate Watson, the dean of students,personally charged one graduate student withassault and battery--a decision that provedfateful for James.

While testifying in the graduate student'strial that fall, the district attorney directlyasked James if he had touched Watson. James wasforced to admit that he had.

He says the FBI had placed an informant amongthe group of activists who planned the graduatestudent's defense.

"The only way he would have known that was fromwhat we discussed in those meetings," he says."They had a pretty clear idea about who everyonewas, what everyone had done, and what the D.A.could use against them."

In May 1970, James, too, was tried andconvicted of assault and battery. The judgesentenced him to nine months in jail--the firstjail sentence ever doled out by a Massachusettscourt in an assault case with no injuries, hesays.

James served his full sentence. The day beforeCommencement, the University refused to issue hima diploma; he was only reinstated and allowed tograduate by a Faculty vote that took place whilehe was in jail.

Despite the injustice, he says, his treatmentat least convinced his parents to forgive theirson.

"They were very upset and angry with me, untilthey came to my trial," he says. "And then theywere very angry at Harvard."

The Kilbreths were married in 1971.

Today they say they have no regrets about theirparticipation in the takeover, although they havenot forgiven the University for what happened.

"It seems to me [that] the student movementactually did eventually end the war in Vietnam,and that's a tremendous accomplishment," Jamessays.

"On the other had, it's pretty clear it didn'tchange Harvard," he adds. "Harvard is, from what Ican tell, pretty much the way it's alwaysbeen--smug.

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