A CKNOWLEDGMENTS
A work of this magnitude could not have been possible without the support and assistance of many people. I would like to firstly thank my supervisor Professor Diane Kirkby for the thesis that this book is based on and for her continued support and belief in the project, particularly for meticulously reading the many drafts of this work, while providing scholarly inputs. Without Diane’s assistance, the work would not have progressed to its current stage. I would like to thank Dr. Barry Carr for his initial contribution as an associate supervisor for the thesis.
I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to travel to the USA to interview many of the key participants in the trial. This trip was made possible by a generous grant from Latrobe University as well as further assistance from my father Stanton Sharman. I appreciate both parties’ support in what was an incredibly exciting and engaging endeavor.
Those whom I interviewed for this book were particularly generous with their time and took me on a personal journey back to a period far removed from our current world. They did so with such passion and engagement, and I hope I have been able to do justice to the memories that they have shared with me for this thesis. I particularly acknowledge the leading Yippie Stew Albert for taking me into his home and sharing his sharp and balanced memories not long before he died, Tom Hayden for taking me to a book reading at a Hollywood mansion I will never forget, Rennie Davis for coming out of retirement and agreeing to speak to me at his home and Ramsey Clark for spending two and half hours of his day at a New York Starbucks talking to me about the events of the trial and the 1960s.
Friends and family have helped me get through the arduous process of completing this work, and I would like to acknowledge the support of my cousin Scott Drummond, my father Stanton and my wife Karen, in particular, for being endlessly supportive and helpful during the hard work that was necessary to finish this project.
4 “The Use of Vile and Insulting Language”:
5 “You Are a Disgrace, Sir, I Say You Are a Disgrace, I Really Say You Are a Disgrace”: The Voice of Antiwar:
6
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
On September 24, 1969, eight men went on trial in the Chicago courtroom of Judge Julius J. Hoffman. The eight men were charged under Title 18 of the Civil Rights Act of 1968, Sections 371, 231 (a) and 2101. The two key charges were that first during the Democratic National Convention held in Chicago in August 1968 they had conspired to come to Chicago for the purpose of inciting a riot. Second, during their time in Chicago they had also committed at least one deliberate act designed to incite a riot among the demonstrators at the convention. Two of the defendants, Lee Weiner and John Froines, were also charged under the act with teaching how to make and use an incendiary device to be used to disrupt the convention.1 Known subsequently as the Chicago conspiracy trial, or colloquially as the trial of the “Chicago 8,” it brought together eight men representing the different strands of the radical movement, which had burgeoned during the 1960s. These defendants included the organizers of some of the main anti-Vietnam war organizations: Tom Hayden, Rennie Davis and David Dellinger, all of whom were leaders in the National Mobilization against the war. They also included two leaders of the Yippies, or Youth International Party, Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin, who sought to bring change to American society by promoting an
1 United States of America vs. David T. Dellinger, Rennard C. Davis, Thomas E. Hayden, Abbott Hoffman, Jerry C. Rubin, Lee Weiner, John R. Froines and Bobby G. Seale No. 69CRI80 at the Northern District of Illinois Eastern Division, located at Rice University Library [Hereafter referred to as the Trial Transcript] p. A53.
1 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2016 N. Sharman, The Chicago Conspiracy Trial and the Press, DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-55938-8_1
alternative lifestyle that included the abolition of money, the promotion of art over work, and the legalization of illicit drugs such as marijuana.2 Also included was the leader of the Black Panther Party, Bobby Seale. The Panthers were a militant Black Nationalist organization, which sought the right of blacks to self-determination and control of their community free from what they regarded as the exploitation by white business and civic authority.3 Of the eight, the less-high profile, defendants were John Froines and Lee Weiner, who were both involved in the antiwar movement and had protested at the convention.
The Democratic Convention in Chicago had been a highly charged and conflict-ridden political event. Groups of demonstrators had sought permits to march and sleep in the parks during the convention to protest against the Vietnam War and to express the values of an alternative lifestyle. Chicago authorities denied them permits, and this meant nightly raids by police into the parks to enforce curfews and constant pursuit of protesters, who were said by the police to be demonstrating illegally in Chicago.4 When the dust had settled from the violent clashes, broadcast nightly on national news services throughout the country, the time came to apportion blame for what had happened in Chicago. The Walker Commission set up by the government to inquire into the events in Chicago concluded that most of the violence that occurred was perpetrated on the demonstrators by the police in what the report described as a “police riot.”5
Richard J. Daley, mayor of the city of Chicago, had other ideas about who was responsible for the breakdown of law and order, which had tarnished the image of his city during the Chicago Democratic Convention. In association with the newly appointed Nixon Administration Attorney General, John Mitchell, and US District Attorney for Chicago, Thomas
2 See A. Hoffman, The Autobiography of Abbie Hoffman, New York, Four Walls Eight Windows, 2000, p. 165.
3 See “The Ten Point Plan of the Black Panther Party” quoted at the Web site of the Black Panther Foundation http://www.blackpanther.org/TenPoint.htm. Accessed January 21st, 2013.
4 J. Schultz, No One Was Killed: Documentation and Meditation: Convention Week, Chicago, August 1968, Chicago, Big Table Publishing Company, 1969. See Also Author Interview with John Schultz May 5th 2005.
5 J. Wiener (Ed.) Conspiracy in the Streets: The Extraordinary Trial of the Chicago Eight, New York, The New Press, 2006, p. 12 quoting the Walker Report. See also The Official Report to the National Commission on the Causes and Prevention of Violence: Rights in Conflict: “The Chicago Police Riot” (Aka the Walker Report) New York, New American Library, 1968.
Foran, a grand jury was convened, and the eight defendants were charged under the civil rights statute with conspiring and acting to incite a riot.6
The celebrity status of the movement leaders who made up the bulk of the defendants in the case meant that the trial received significant media coverage throughout the case. This coverage was only heightened by the large number of major incidents that occurred in the trial, including the arrest of four defense lawyers by the judge on the first day of the case and the chaining and gagging of defendant Bobby Seale by Judge Hoffman.
Despite the extensive media coverage and the significance of media reporting in shaping the memory of the case, scant attention has been paid in the scholarly literature to an analysis of the media coverage of the trial. An exception is Juliet Dee’s article, which is the only academic article which significantly analyses the media’s reporting of the case.7 Dee highlights the difficulties that the defendants had in getting their message across through the media, yet her article’s relative brevity and the fact that it discusses a wide range of journals’ reporting on the case means that there is much still to be said on the media coverage of the trial.
There has been a lack of academic attention devoted to the media reporting of trials generally. As Claire Wardle notes, “the ways in which the criminal justice issues are shaped in the media is an important topic, but one that has been under-studied in the field of communication.”8 Wardle goes on to note that there has “been less analysis of newspaper coverage of trial courts” in the literature than even the space devoted to criminal justice issues generally.9 A further limitation, which Wardle notes, is the lack of comparison between the media coverage and the trial record of the case.10
This study thus fills a gap in the literature on the media reporting of criminal proceedings, focusing on the Chicago conspiracy trial. It also seeks to compare, where appropriate, the media coverage of the trial with the substantial trial record that exists as the official version of what occurred in the case.
6 See J. Anthony Lukas, The Barnyard Epithet and Other Obscenities, New York, Harper and Row, 1970, p. 5.
7 See J. Dee, “Constraints on Persuasion in the Chicago Seven Trial”, in R. Hariman (Ed.) Popular Trials: Rhetoric, Mass Media and the Law, Tuscaloosa, University of Alabama Press, 1993.
8 C. Wardle, “The ‘Unabomber’ vs. The ‘Nailbomber’: a Cross-Cultural Comparison of Newspaper Coverage of Two Murder Trials”, Journalism Studies, 4, 2, 2003, p. 239.
9 Ibid., p. 240.
10 See Ibid., p. 250.
There is another significant issue in the media reporting of trials, which has drawn attention in the literature. This issue, raised by Fox, Van Sickel and Steiger, and Wardle, is the tendency of media reporting of trials to ignore the substantive legal and other issues raised by controversial and high-profile cases.11 This literature suggests that sensational reporting focusing on personalities and a simplistic framing of issues dominates the media representation of important trials. This study considers the extent to which the media coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial reported on and acknowledged the substantive questions about the American justice system that the case raised.
Although other newspapers are considered as a point of comparison, the focus of this study is on the New York Times’ coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial. The New York Times occupies an exalted place in the American media landscape, and in all major surveys of the quality and influence of newspapers, the New York Times tops the rankings.12 As Friel and Falk note, the “self-proclaimed goal of the Times is to provide readers with ‘all the news that’s fit to print.’”13 The paper is also seen as, and aspires to be, “the paper of record,” the voice of what is occurring in society.14 It also has a significant influence in shaping both the media agenda as well as the views of influential people within American society. Friel and Falk critically analyze the New York Times’ coverage of foreign policy and the limitations of this coverage. They state the New York Times
Occupies such an exalted place in the political and moral imagination of influential Americans and others as the most authoritative source of information and guidance on issues of public policy. It is on this basis that the Times has acquired its special status as the newspaper of record [my italics] in the United States, a trusted media source that supposedly is dedicated to truthfulness and objectivity regardless of political consequences.15
11 See R. Fox, R.W. Van Sickel and T. Steiger, Tabloid Justice: Criminal Justice in an Age of Media Frenzy, 2nd edition, Boulder, Lynne Reinner Publishing, 2007, pp. 7–10 and Wardle, “‘The Unabomber’ vs. The ‘Nailbomber’”, p. 250.
12 See S. Teitz, “21 for the 21st Century: America’s Best Newspapers”, Columbia Journalism Review, 38, 4, 1999, pp. 14–16.
13 H. Friel and R. Falk, The Record of the Paper: How the New York Times Misreports US Foreign Policy, New York, Verso, 2004, p. 11. Despite the significant place that the authors acknowledge that the New York Times holds in the media industry in the USA they clearly acknowledge its limitations in reporting on foreign policy issues.
14 See Ibid p. 2.
15 Ibid.
Given the significant place which the New York Times occupied in American journalism and the respect granted to its reportage, it is the most appropriate vehicle for an analysis of the way the media represented an event such as the Chicago conspiracy trial involving high-profile, politically active defendants. The book considers the fundamental issue of what the New York Times did when faced with evidence of apparent egregious misbehavior by a judge, which did not fit its worldview, and that of its readership, of the sanctity and authority of the US federal court. Evidence of this judicial malfeasance is amply provided by the trial record and the court of appeal’s subsequent judgment on the jury trial.16 When the judicial system was faced with a challenge to its legitimacy as a result of the conduct of Judge Hoffman in the case, how did the paper respond? The challenge was amplified by the attacks on the authority of major American institutions, which were occurring in the late 1960s, particularly over the question of the legitimacy of American conduct in Vietnam.17 Consistent with the suggestion of Wardle and Fox et al., this study argues that the New York Times did not take the opportunity to explore questions of the broader significance for the judicial system of Judge Hoffman’s conduct of the case.18
This study demonstrates that when faced with significant evidence of judicial misbehavior the New York Times sought to manage what was perceived to be a crisis. In the early phases of the trial the paper’s reporting sought to minimize criticism of the judge’s actions. It did this in part by framing the case in terms of the conflict between the two sides in the trial and suggesting that both were equally blameworthy for the disruption that was occurring. On occasions, such as the judge’s decision to chain and gag the Black Panther leader Bobby Seale, the New York Times justified the judge’s decision to forcefully restrain the Panther leader in terms of the deliberately disruptive conduct of the black defendant and his other coaccused. As the trial progressed, following Seale’s incarceration and his later severing from the case, the New York Times’ coverage of the trial changed. Although the paper was reluctant to give voice to
16 See United States of America vs. David T. Dellinger, Rennard C. Davis, Thomas E. Hayden, Abbott Hoffman, Jerry C. Rubin, Lee Weiner, John R. Froines 472 F.2d 340 (1972) and Trial Transcript.
17 See T. Gitlin, The Whole World is Watching: Mass Media in the Making and Unmaking of the New Left, 2nd Edition, Berkeley, University of California Press, 2003, p. 12.
18 See Wardle, “The ‘Unabomber’ vs. The ‘Nailbomber,’” p. 250 and Fox et al., Tabloid Justice, p. 1.
the defendants’ views on the case, except when they were expressed in a humorous way with the evidence of Abbie Hoffman, the paper became more critical of Judge Hoffman’s conduct of the case. This study makes a significant original contribution to the literature on the media coverage of the trial by identifying a turning point in the New York Times’ coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial. This turning point in the paper’s coverage occurred with the exclusion of Attorney General Ramsey Clark from the witness stand. Clark’s standing as a leading figure in the liberal establishment gave the New York Times license for the first time to criticize openly Judge Hoffman’s rulings in the case. Although for the rest of the trial the New York Times overtly criticized the partiality of Judge Hoffman’s rulings in the case, it continued to blame the defendants equally for the “farce” which the paper believed the trial had become. As a way of legitimizing the operation of the judicial system in the face of the evidence of its partiality displayed in Judge Hoffman’s courtroom, editorially, at the end of the case, the New York Times privileged the role of the higher appeal courts. The paper editorialized that these courts would protect the defendants’ rights and overturn any unjust rulings by Judge Hoffman.
This book shows that the New York Times did not seek to question the judicial system’s authority or raise broader issues about its legitimacy following Judge Hoffman’s conduct of the case.19
The study adds further to the literature on the media representation of dissent. The defendants were well-known activist leaders who engaged in protest, throughout the trial, against what they perceived as the unjust actions of Judge Hoffman. Todd Gitlin’s classic study on the media representation of Students for a Democratic Society demonstrated how news media framed protesters as deviant by focusing on their disruptive and unusual acts with little reference to the reasons for their protests.20 In a similar way the New York Times’ coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial framed the defendants’ protests as instigated disruption to the case rather than as a direct response to perceived acts of repression by Judge Hoffman. Also, in the paper’s representation of the evidence of the two defendants who testified in the case—Abbie Hoffman and Rennie Davis— this study argues that limited attention was given in the New York Times’
19 See Wardle, “The ‘Unabomber’ vs. The ‘Nailbomber’”, p. 250 and Fox et al., Tabloid Justice, p. 1.
20 Gitlin, The Whole World is Watching, pp. 35–40.
coverage to the substantive political philosophy the defendants sought to espouse on the witness stand. Instead, in the case of Hoffman, the defendant’s humor was foregrounded rather than any explanation provided of what Hoffman’s humor meant as a symbolic challenge to the authoritarian rules of the court. Similarly, the New York Times’ coverage of Rennie Davis’ evidence failed to report on the defendant’s attempts to introduce the Vietnam War as a central issue in the courtroom, which, as Davis recalled, was the central part of the rationale for his testimony in the trial.21
Recent literature on the media representation of protest has suggested that protesters have, in certain instances, received substantially more sympathetic coverage of their views and aspirations than Gitlin’s original understanding of the media coverage of dissent would suggest.22 These writers suggest that the symbolic power and drama which protest groups can generate through protests, particularly in a new media world, can override the standard media frames that govern the media representation of dissent. Although mine is a historical study based on a major political event over 40 years ago, the work argues that, in this instance, the New York Times’ coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial was consistent with the earlier literature, which identified radical defendants’ deviant conduct as the central frame in the coverage of dissent. This was the case even when this dissent could be said to have occurred in response to apparent official repression in the trial. This framing that emphasized the defendants’ deviant conduct, even when it occurred in response to official repression, was evident even when the New York Times’ reporter was observing the trial on a largely daily and full-time basis. Traditional studies on media representation of dissent have focused on media representations of protests in demonstrations, which are not fully observable in the same way as a trial in a small courtroom occurring over an extended period of time. This study argues that even when a reporter was able to more closely observe a trial, which at times turned into a demonstration, the media frames were still similar to those framing dissent at less closely observable events.
21 See Author Interview with Rennie Davis April 28th, 2005.
22 See, for example, S. Cottle, The Racist Murder of Stephen Lawrence: Media Performance and Public Transformation, Westport, Conn, Praeger, 2004; S. Cottle, “Reporting Demonstrations: the Changing Media Politics of Dissent”, Media, Culture and Society, 30, 6, 2008, pp. 853–872; L. Lester, Giving Ground: Media and Environmental Conflict in Tasmania, Hobart, Quintus Publishing, 2007 and S. Cottle and L. Lester, (Eds.) Transnational Protests and the Media, New York, Peter Lang, 2011.
Although this work does not share the view of the new literature that protest was represented more favorably than earlier studies such as Gitlin’s would suggest, it does demonstrate the view, supported by the new literature, that media representation of a major public event or issue can change over time. Cottle particularly has suggested that powerful symbolic acts of injustice and protest can transform public and media perception of an event.23 In relation to the Chicago conspiracy trial, the symbolism of slavery and oppression that the chaining and gagging of a black defendant in a white courtroom had, and the growing evidence of judicial malfeasance, did lead to a change in the New York Times’ representation of the trial. This change did not extend by any means to complete coverage of the defendants’ views on what was occurring in the case, but it did acknowledge a greater level of criticism of the judge’s handling of the trial.
One of the central features of this book is an exploration of the memories of many of the key participants in the trial. These memories have been tapped through their written memoirs and the conducting of extensive interviews with key participants in the events associated with the Chicago conspiracy trial. I have interviewed defendants, lawyers for the defense, close confidantes and those who worked with the defendants on the preparation of their trial strategy. I have also interviewed those who reported on the case for various media outlets. Unfortunately the prime reporter for the New York Times on the trial, J. Anthony Lukas, died before the commencement of the project.
The interviews provide a valuable tool for analyzing memories of the case in relation to events represented in the New York Times. They also illustrate in certain instances the way that “the paper of record’s” coverage of the case influenced the memories of those who participated in it. The interviews give insight into the strategies the defendants sought to use in the case and the extent to which the New York Times and other media coverage responded and reported the trial in ways that were influenced by or reflected these strategies. In general the study demonstrates that the defendants, despite their status as high-profile public activists, were largely unsuccessful in getting the New York Times and other media to carry their message in coverage of the trial. There were exceptions, particularly in the later part of the trial, but even in cases when the New York Times did represent an issue in a way favorable to the defendants, it often used
23 See Cottle, The Racist Murder of Stephen Lawrence, p. 3.
other more respectable sources, rather than the words or statements of the defendants, to convey these views.
One of the key methodological tools used to analyze the New York Times’ and other media outlets’ coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial is framing. The concept of framing was pioneered by sociologist Erving Goffman. Framing recognizes that in order to make sense of the world people organize experience into little ideological frames which help simplify and manage complex reality.24 Consider the way that the media framing of an event has important ideological consequences for the way in which an event is perceived by the public. In the context of the media representation of dissent, Graham Murdock, in his analysis of the media representation of a major London demonstration in 1970, argued that the prior media framing of the event in terms of whether violence would occur emptied the demonstration of “its radical political content.”25 By framing the lead up to the event in this context, attention was drawn away from the substantive issues on which the demonstration sought to focus. Instead public understanding, through the media framing, was focused on the form of the demonstration, which thus reinforced the idea in the public mind that demonstrations were to do with violence or nonviolence rather than to do with substantive issues of protest.
The use of framing has a long history as a method used to analyze the representation of media texts. This history is particularly apparent in the analysis of the media representation of dissent. Gitlin used frames to help understand the way that the media constructed the public understanding of the New Left in America in the 1960s. Recognizing the ideological impact that frames have in shaping our view of the world Gitlin states, “Frames are principles of selection, emphasis, and presentation composed of little tacit theories about what exists, what happens, and what matters.”26 As evidence of the importance which news journalists place on using frames to manage the mass of material that needs to be compressed into a tightly written newspaper article, Gitlin further states:
24 E. Goffman, Frame Analysis: An Essay on the Organisation of Experience, New York, Harper Row, 1974.
25 G. Murdock, “Political Deviance: the Press Presentation of a Militant Mass Demonstration”, in J. Young and S. Cohen, (Eds.) The Manufacture of News - Deviance, Social Problems and the Mass Media, Constable, London, 1973, p. 160.
26 Gitlin, The Whole World is Watching, p. 6.
Media frames are persistent patterns of cognition, interpretation, and presentation, of selection, emphasis, and exclusion, by which symbol-handlers routinely organize discourse, whether verbal or visual [Gitlin’s italics]. Frames enable journalists to process large amounts of information quickly and routinely.27
Jules Boykoff, who has also written extensively on the media representation of dissent, has consistently used framing as a method of analysis.28 As further evidence of the ideological function that frames have in drawing attention to one way of seeing the world as opposed to an alternative vision, Boykoff quoting Robert Entman, states:
To frame is to select some aspects of a perceived reality and make them more salient in a communicating text, in such a way as to promote a particular problem definition, causal interpretation, moral evaluation, and or treatment recommendation for the item described.29
Like all qualitative methodologies, framing has been criticized for the subjective quality of its analysis, but as the references from the above seminal studies suggest, it has become an established and recognized method for analyzing media texts. Consistent with Gitlin’s own approach the use of framing is also combined with recognition of the historical and political circumstances in which the newspaper reporting of the trial took place.30 As a historian I pay particular attention to seeing the New York Times and other newspaper reportage of the trial within the historical context of the 1960s. The transformative events of the 1960s, including the civil rights movement, the antiwar movement, the counterculture and the rise of Black Power and the Black Panther Party all were significant in influencing attitudes to society and protest at that time.31 The media coverage was highly influential in shaping the way radical acts of protest developed during this time. In seeking to understand the New York Times’ coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial it is vital to understand the paper’s attitudes to institutions like the Black Panther Party and the protest
27 Ibid., p. 7.
28 See, for example, J. Boykoff, “Framing Dissent: Mass-Media Coverage of the Global Justice Movement”, New Political Science, 28, 2, 2006, pp. 201–228.
29 R. W. Entman, “Framing: Toward Clarification of a Fractured Paradigm”, Journal of Communication, 43, 1993, p. 52.
30 See Gitlin, The Whole World is Watching
31 See D. Farber, The Age of Great Dreams, New York, Hill and Wang, 1994.
move ment of which the defendants were leading players. It is these attitudes that help to explain the difficulties which the New York Times had in representing the defendants’ perspective on what was happening in the Chicago conspiracy trial.
This work is organized around an analysis of six key incidents in the Chicago conspiracy trial. These incidents have been selected as they form key points of conflict that occurred within the trial and thus were significant in generating newspaper coverage. The incidents also represent different moments in the trial: one where the defendants’ voice was silenced, as in the case of the chaining and gagging of Bobby Seale, and others where the defendants’ voices were heard in the courtroom, as occurred with the evidence given by Abbie Hoffman and Rennie Davis. The focus on these key incidents and moments also enables the work to manage the mass of material coming out of a 5-month long trial. The trial transcript alone is over 30,000 pages, and the media coverage of the event is substantial. The detailed analysis of key incidents enables a more thorough analysis of specific media coverage to illustrate clearly the key facets of the New York Times’ and other newspapers’ coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial.
The first of these incidents is the opening of the trial and the arrest of four defense lawyers by Judge Hoffman on the first day. This incident is the first point of major conflict between the judge and the defense, and analysis of the newspaper coverage presents an opportunity to consider the initial frames that the New York Times adopted to represent that conflict. The chapter demonstrates that the New York Times framed the lawyers’ arrest as part of the conflict between the two sides in the case. In so doing the paper failed to fully represent the apparently unjust nature of Judge Hoffman’s actions in arresting the four defense attorneys. The second incident analyzed is the chaining and gagging of one of the defendants, Black Panther leader Bobby Seale, by Judge Hoffman. This incident is probably the most famous of the case and the one which generated the most contempt sentences for the defendants as they sought to protest what they perceived as the unjust treatment and abridgment of Seale’s rights in the courtroom.32 An analysis of the media coverage of the incident is also
32 See Preface by Ramsey Clark and Introduction by Harry Kalven from Contempt Transcript of the Contempt Citations, Sentences, and Response of the Chicago Conspiracy 10, Chicago, Swallow Press, 1970, for the complete list of contempt citations held against the defendants by Judge Hoffman.
central in understanding how at this stage the New York Times sought to manage the escalating conflict between the defense and the judge in the case. Justifying the judge’s conduct of the trial by representing Seale’s protests in the court as unjustified, the New York Times sought to manage the crisis of legitimacy for the judiciary that the spectacle of Seale’s chained and gagged body created.
The next incident considered in Chap. 4 is the evidence of one of the two defendants who testified in the trial—Abbie Hoffman—and the revoking of the bail of another defendant David Dellinger for saying “bullshit” in the courtroom in response to what he perceived as false testimony from a prosecution witness.33 Hoffman’s testimony is the first legitimate opportunity the defendants had to voice their beliefs on the case in open court, so it is very important to examine how the New York Times represented those beliefs. As we will see, the New York Times framed Hoffman as nonthreatening and humorous but failed to investigate the serious side of his political persona and thus partly muffled the political message he wished to convey on the witness stand.
Chapter 5 considers the evidence of the other defendant who testified in the case, Rennie Davis, and the success, or as we shall see the lack thereof, that he had in gaining media attention for his attempts to introduce the Vietnam War as an issue in the courtroom. This lack of success in Davis’ attempts to bring the war into the courtroom is considered in terms of the New York Times’ unwillingness to give coverage to a radical defendant’s views that the war was symptomatic of broader problems in American society. Chapter 6 considers a significant turning point in the New York Times’ coverage of the trial, the refusal of Judge Hoffman to allow former US Attorney General Ramsey Clark to appear before the jury. This chapter demonstrates the shift in the New York Times’ coverage of the case, which occurred in response to the build up to and then exclusion of Clark from the witness stand.
The final chapter considers the way the New York Times’ opinion and editorial writers summed up the meaning of the trial following the verdicts and the contempt sentences handed down to the defendants. The chapter demonstrates that in a final effort to manage the crisis of legitimacy that the trial had created for the judicial system, the paper’s editorial voice looked positively to the higher courts to rectify any potential
33 See J. Clavir and J. Spitzer, (Eds.) The Conspiracy Trial, London, Jonathon Cape, 1970, p. 529.
injustice that had been visited on the defendants by Judge Hoffman’s conduct in the trial.
This work focuses particularly on five strands—the media coverage of dissent, the media coverage of trials, literature on the New York Times’ representation of key issues, the literature that exists on the New Left and the 1960s, and the literature that exists on the media coverage of the Chicago conspiracy trial itself. It locates this book in the literature of media and communication studies as a historical analysis of American press coverage of the most newsworthy trial of the period.
CHAPTER 2
“My Wishes Are That a Lawyer Respect the Court”: Initial Representation of the Trial and the Lawyers’ Arrest
INTRODUCTION
On September 24, 1969, the eight defendants charged with conspiring and acting to incite a riot at the Democratic Convention in 1968 went on trial in the Chicago courtroom of Judge Julius J. Hoffman. Within minutes of the trial beginning, Judge Hoffman had issued a bench warrant for the arrest of four defense lawyers who had sought to withdraw from the case by telegram. These lawyers had previously worked for the defense in preparing briefs for pretrial motions, and it had not been the intention that they act as defense counsel during the trial.1 The judge, under the rules of the court, asserted that the lawyers needed to withdraw their appearance, previously registered for the defendants, in person from the case. The lawyers’ arrest was the first among many conflicts that were to occur between the parties throughout the 5-month trial. This chapter analyses the way the New York Times covered the start of the case and the arrest of the four defense lawyers. In reporting a 5-month trial, particularly one likely to invoke such strong feelings as the Chicago case, the initial representations are particularly important in establishing the meaning of the trial and the most significant issues to be considered. As this study shows, the frames
1 See Author Interview with Tom Hayden March 29th, 2005. The exception to this was Gerry Lefcourt, one of the four lawyers, who had been slated to appear as one of the defense counsel in the Chicago conspiracy trial. Lefcourt had to withdraw this appearance as he had been chosen to act as lead counsel in the “Panther 21” case in New York. See Author Interview with Gerry Lefcourt May 25th, 2005.
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2016 N. Sharman, The Chicago Conspiracy Trial and the Press, DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-55938-8_2
used by the paper from the day of the arraignment were still important in defining the meaning of the case when it concluded.
The chapter argues that the New York Times initially framed the trial as a clash between two warring and slightly absurd parties—the judge and the prosecution on the one hand, and the defendants on the other. This representation, which was prominent throughout the trial, had the effect of sharing the blame for the clashes that occurred in the courtroom between the defendants and Judge Hoffman. In so doing the paper was able to minimize criticism of Judge Hoffman’s handling of the case and uphold the authority of the federal courts and at the same time downplay the defendants’ suggestions that the trial was a deliberate act of repression aimed at stifling the antiwar movement. The broader significance of the conduct of the trial for the judicial system and society was thus not significantly considered.
The New York Times thus framed the lawyers’ arrest in terms of the conflict between the two sides. In so doing the paper did not fully consider the reasons for the judge’s actions in arresting the lawyers—reasons that, as demonstrated, did not reflect well on Judge Hoffman’s actions in the case. Although the level of opposition that the judge’s actions generated among lawyers throughout the country led the paper, over time, to recognize and, in some ways represent positively, the protests against his actions, it framed that protest around authoritative voices, rather than the voices of the defendants. This effectively affirmed liberal protest and at the same time marginalized more radical critiques of the trial.
By providing detailed evidence from the court transcript of the case, as well as comments from the court of appeal judgment and interviews with key participants in the trial, I demonstrate the ways that the New York Times’ coverage ignored or downplayed significant aspects of the judge’s handling of the early part of the case. These ignored aspects did not reflect well on Judge Hoffman’s actions in the early part of the trial.
Two important reasons can be suggested to explain the way that the New York Times reported on this early phase of the trial. The first involves the routines of journalism, the second the political interests of the paper as a representative of powerful interests in society. First, the routines of journalism, as Gitlin notes, are about “conflict, not consensus; the fact that ‘advances the story,’ not the one that explains it.”2 The conflict between the two diametrically opposed and quite vociferous and colorful parties in
2 Gitlin, The Whole World is Watching, p. 28.
this case, clearly met the criteria of what constitutes news and could easily be represented in those terms. As Chibnall notes in summarizing news values, dramatic and personalized actions are a key part of what constitutes news.3 Wardle also identified conflict between two sides in a courtroom as a standard frame used by American media in representing trials.4 The adversarial system itself sets up conflict as the key basis on which a trial is conducted, which further encouraged the use of the conflict frame in the media coverage.
Second, the political position of the New York Times reflecting the liberal values of its readership, meant that it did not wish to give too great a support to claims of defendants who were challenging the authority both of the judicial system and other powerful institutions in society. This was perceived to be a time of national crisis with major conflict over the war in Vietnam and radical challenges by the defendants and others to the legitimacy of mainstream American values and institutions. As Gitlin notes, by the middle of 1969, in line with growing opposition to the war and the liberal position that there was a need to marginalize radical critiques of American society, the New York Times had come to support moderate opponents of the conflict as well as American withdrawal from Vietnam.5 Stories that represented the unjust nature of a key American institution, the federal court, particularly when they came in relation to the treatment of men who strongly questioned the fairness of that institution, were unlikely to be appealing to the editors of the New York Times. It was only, as we will see, when the evidence of the unjust actions by Judge Hoffman became too great to ignore that the New York Times came to more openly question what was going on in the court in which the Chicago conspiracy trial was being conducted.
The chapter will also briefly compare the New York Times’ coverage of the opening of the trial and the lawyers’ arrest with that of the Washington Post
3 S. Chibnall, “The Production of News by Crime Reporters”, in S. Cohen and J. Young, (Eds.) The Manufacture of News: Social Problems, Deviance and the Mass Media, London, Constable, 1973, pp. 75–98.
4 See Wardle, “The ‘Unabomber’ vs. The ‘Nail Bomber’”, p. 239.
5 See Gitlin, The Whole World is Watching, p. 217; see also J. Herbers, “Vietnam Moratorium Observed Nationwide by Foes of the War”, New York Times, October 16, 1969, pp. 1 and 18. In the article, like others on the day after the October 15 and November 15 Moratorium days, the moderate and broad ranging nature of the protests was emphasized by the New York Times. Those who saw the war as part of the broader failings of American society were marginalized in these and other reports.
It demonstrates that while the news section of the Post coverage was very similar to that in the Times, the articles written by Nick Von Hoffman in the Style section of the Post provided a completely different conception of the meaning of the trial and the lawyers’ arrest than that framed by the New York Times. Unlike the New York paper, Von Hoffman’s articles conceptualized the case as a political trial and forthrightly acknowledged the injustice of Judge Hoffman’s treatment of the defendants from the start of the case and in the arrest of the four defense lawyers.
Von Hoffman’s coverage of the initial phases of the case highlights the observable nature of the injustice occurring in the courtroom as well as the limitations of the New York Times’ coverage. Von Hoffman’s articles also demonstrate the differences in the institutional culture of the Washington Post as against the New York Times. Although both aspired to be the premier newspaper of record for mainstream elite opinion in the USA, the New York Times’ established position meant that it was less willing to take risks to attract readers than the Washington Post. While Von Hoffman’s more radical views representing the burgeoning protest movement could be printed in the Style section of the Post, the New York Times’ more mainstream and sober position within American journalism and society prevented that possibility from occurring.
Consideration of the initial phase of the media’s representation of the case is also important as the arrest of the four lawyers occurred prior to any direct challenges to the judge’s authority by the defendants. This point is acknowledged by the court of appeal decision on the case.6 How did the New York Times report what will be demonstrated as unjust actions by the court at a time when there had been no complicating protest and defying of courtroom conventions initiated by the defendants? In his short book on the trial, which appeared not long after the case had concluded J. Anthony Lukas, the New York Times’ primary reporter on the trial, acknowledged clearly that the defendants did not initiate the courtroom protests. The first act of significant conflict was enacted by the judge with his arrest of the four defense lawyers.7 Despite the fact that Lukas recognized that many of the contempt sentences meted out to the defendants were in response to acts of repression by the judge, this representation was often not the way things appeared, as we shall see, in the New York Times’ coverage of the case.
6 See United States of America vs. David Dellinger et al 472 F. 2d 340 (1972).
7 See Lukas, The Barnyard Epithet, p. 33.
THE INITIAL NEW YORK TIMES FRAMING OF THE CHICAGO CONSPIRACY TRIAL
Prior to the beginning of the trial the New York Times published a number of articles on the case.8 Prior to its commencement the defendants had sought to gain publicity for the trial by depicting it as a farce. Abbie Hoffman labeled the trial “the World Series of Injustice” and had posters designed depicting it as a conflict between the Chicago conspiracy and the Washington Kangaroos.9 The New York Times coverage did not pick up on that angle. The pretrial coverage initially focused on wrangling over legal issues rather than any challenge to the authority of the court by the defendants. The first article published under a New York Times byline by reporter Donald Jansen did, however, establish one of the key frames that was to prove influential in the paper’s subsequent coverage of the case. This frame represented the trial as a conflict between two warring parties with diametrically opposed values and beliefs. This conflict, in this and later articles on the case, was often represented in generational terms with the “74-year-old judge” being contrasted with the youthful unorthodoxy of the defendants.10 J. Anthony Lukas, in an early article just after the trial had begun, captured the nature of the generational conflict as well as the war between the two parties that was represented by the New York Times:
“You take care of your orders; I’ll take care of mine”, the short 74-year-old judge said, his bald head and steel-rimmed eyeglasses barely rising over the wooden bench… All of the defendants, except the 53-year-old Mr. Dellinger, were dressed in colorful, unorthodox garb. Mr. Rubin, whose bushy reddish hair and beard had been cut off in jail, wore a long, yellow-and-red-striped
8 See D. Janson, “8 Leaders of Protests During the Democratic Convention Plead not Guilty of Conspiracy”, New York Times, April 10, 1969, p. 28; S. E. Zion, “Lawyers say F.B.I Eavesdropped on Riot Suspects in Chicago”, New York Times, April 11, 1969, p. 28; New York Times, “Judge Rejects Charge of Eavesdropping by F.B.I”, April 12, 1969, p. 19; New York Times, “Tapes Ruled Secret in Chicago disorder”, July 9, 1969, p. 5; New York Times, “Travel Restrictions Lifted”, April 11, 1969, p. 26; New York Times, “Chief U.S. Judge in Chicago Backs out of Protest Case”, April 2, 1969, p. 20; J. Kifner, “Court Backs Plan to Free P.O.W.’s”, New York Times, July 16, 1969, p. 7; J. Kifner, “U.S. Judge Delays Wiretap Ruling in Chicago Riots”, New York Times, July 22, 1969, p. 12.
9 Lukas, The Barnyard Epithet, p. 12 and Hoffman, The Autobiography, p. 195.
10 Janson, “8 Leaders of Protest Plead not Guilty”, p. 28.
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Maar er werd niets neergezet, en opeens voelde Eduard hoe een hand op zijn voorhoofd gelegd werd.
"Vader!" riep Eduard, nu met wijd-open oogen, en daar zat hij al overeind en stak zijn hand naar Vader uit — en daar zat Vader ook al op de rand van 't bed, en Eduard legde zijn arm om Vaders hals en zoende Vader, en nog eens, en nog eens, en nog eens weer.
"Eddy!" zei Vader zacht, en even de verbonden arm aanrakend: "Stoute jongen, wat heb je gedaan? Wat heb je je oude Vader aan 't schrikken gemaakt!"
Maar Eduard gaf geen antwoord, en aldoor bleef hij maar naar Vader kijken, als kon hij nog maar half gelooven dat Vader er werkelijk was.
"U bent het toch wel heusch?" vroeg hij eindelijk, "ik droom toch niet dat u er bent, he Vader?"
"Nee, nee, je droomt niet," antwoordde zijn Vader, "ik ben 't echt!" — en Eduard zuchtte, zacht over Vaders hand strijkend: "ik ben zoo vreeselijk, zoo vreeselijk blij dat u weer thuis bent!"
"Ja, ik ben ook vrééselijk blij!" lachte Vader, en toen nam hij Eduards hoofd tusschen zijn handen en ernstig keek hij zijn jongen aan. "Hoe is 't er mee?" vroeg hij.
"Goed Vader!" zei Eduard zacht.
[a362] XX.
"Hier is 't rapport, Vader!" zei Eduard, en hij gooide zijn pet op een stoel en liep naar Vader toe, die voor 't raam stond en naar buiten keek.
Gisterenavond waren ze eindelijk weer thuisgekomen, in hun eigen, gezellige huis, dat door Rika netjes schoongemaakt en gelucht was. Nog ruim een week waren ze bij Tante Lina gebleven, want zoo lang Eduard toch nog niet naar school mocht had zijn Vader 't niet prettig gevonden hem den heelen dag alleen te laten.
"Oom blijft ook hier tot Eetje weer beter is!" had Beppie dadelijk gezegd, en Tante Lina had nog denzelfden avond de bedden laten veranderen. — 't Was toch aardig van Tante Lina geweest om de kamer van de groote jongens dadelijk voor Vader en hem in te richten; Hugo had nu op 't logeerkamertje moeten slapen, en voor Piet was een bed in de badkamer gezet, en Vader zelf had Eduard naar Hugo's bed overgedragen.
En verder was 't beter worden erg gauw gegaan; wel hing zijn arm nog in een doek, en dat zou ook [a365] nog wel een week of wat duren, had de dokter gezegd, en ook zag hij nog wat bleek en mager, maar toch was hij vanmorgen weer voor 't eerst naar school geweest.
"Vraag nu of je 't rapport dat je voor de Paasch-vacantie gekregen hebt nog eens mee mag nemen," had Vader gezegd, toen Eduard om kwart voor negen klaar stond om naar school te gaan; "toen je 't kreeg was 't te laat om de cijfers nog te schrijven, weet je wel, en ik wou het toch graag zien."
En Eduard had het rapport meegebracht; 't was wel geen prettige boodschap geweest het aan mijnheer van Eerde te gaan vragen, want hij wist vooruit al dat de cijfers Vader wel tegen zouden vallen. — Vader had natuurlijk wel al lang gevraagd hoe 't op school ging en Eduard had ook wel verteld dat 't niet zoo heel mooi was, maar al te veel had hij er maar niet over gezegd.
Aandachtig had Vader de cijfers bekeken, en aldoor was Eduard naast hem blijven staan om te hooren wat Vader zeggen zou, maar Vader zei niets; en zonder Eduard aan te zien vouwde hij het rapport weer dubbel en gaf het terug.
"We zullen gaan koffiedrinken," zei Vader eindelijk.
Eduard ging tegenover Vader aan tafel zitten; hij was daarnet hard naar huis geloopen om gauw bij Vader te zijn en gezellig van alles te vertellen, maar nu was 't ineens niks leuk meer; — zei Vader nou maar wat, gaf Vader hem nou maar een flink standje [a366] over dat rapport, want daar was Vader nu natuurlijk kwaad om — maar Vader zei niks.
Zoo was 't bij Oom Tom en Tante Lina nou nooit, die gaven tenminste dadelijk standjes als ze kwaad waren en dan was 't tien minuten later weer net of er niks gebeurd was, maar zóó duurde 't zoo vreeselijk lang. — Eindelijk kon Eduard 't niet langer uithouden.
"Vader, is u boos?" vroeg hij zacht.
"Boos? Welnee!" antwoordde Vader.
Daar had je 't nou al! Nou was hij nog even ver! Had hij nu maar niks gezegd!
En Eduard begon zich opeens vreeselijk te haasten met zijn boterhammen; gauw voortmaken maar, en dan buiten gaan spelen!
En zonder verder naar Vader te kijken liep hij toen hij klaar was de kamer uit.
Wie zou hij nu eigenlijk eens gaan halen, en waar zouden ze naar toe gaan? Misschien wou Meertens wel mee. — O nee, die had van twee tot drie timmerles. — Als hij eens naar Tante Lina ging? Ze zouden zeker wel in den tuin spelen vanmiddag! Toch maar niet doen, 't was zoo'n eind! Wat deed hij vroeger ook weer altijd 's Woensdagmiddags? O ja, dan had hij vioolles, en meestal maakte hij dan daarna zijn werk. Maar in dat vervelende huiswerk had hij nu heelemaal niks geen zin, en de vioolles was nog altijd op Vrijdag. — Kom, hij kon Theo wel eens gaan halen, die had hij in een heelen tijd niet gezien, en wacht, hij kon eigenlijk best op de fiets gaan, hij was [a367] immers al weer beter, en die arm hing nog wel in een verband maar je kon ook best met één hand fietsen. Eduard haalde de fiets uit de kast. 't Ding was na den val wel een week in de reparatie geweest, maar nu zag alles er dan ook weer prachtig uit en de remmen werkten weer uitstekend. Natuurlijk waren de banden weer slap; hoe kreeg hij die nou weer opgepompt met zijn eene arm! Gezanik ook! Aan Vader vragen? — Eduard bedacht dat hij toch eigenlijk ook niet goed durfde gaan fietsen zonder 't eerst tegen Vader te zeggen. Vooruit dan maar!
En Eduard slenterde weer naar de huiskamer. Maar Vader was er niet meer. Vader was toch niet uitgegaan, dan zou hij Vader wel gezien hebben! Eduard liep de gang weer in en: "Rrrika! Waar is Vader?" schreeuwde hij tegen Rika, die juist de keuken uitkwam.
"'k Geloof dat meneer naar zijn studeerkamer gegaan is," antwoordde Rika en Eduard holde naar Vaders kamer.
Aan 't groote bureau zat Vader te schrijven, en "Vader, wilt u m'n fiets even oppompen?" riep Eduard.
"Waarvoor?" vroeg Vader, zijn sigaar uit zijn mond nemend.
"Nou, ik wilde wat gaan fietsen," zei Eduard, "en m'n banden zijn zoo slap!"
Vader keek hem even zwijgend aan. "Wat dacht je nu eigenlijk?" vroeg hij toen, "dacht je dat ik nu [a368] met je naar beneden zou
gaan om je fiets op te pompen en dat ik dan zou zeggen: 'Dag Pepi, veel plezier,'?"
"Waarom niet, Vader?"
"Omdat er geen kwestie van is dat je fietsen gaat zoolang je arm in dat verband hangt," en Vader schreef weer verder
"Maar ik kan best met één hand fietsen!" mopperde Eduard, maar hij kreeg geen antwoord, en stil pruttelde hij verder: "Bij Tante Lina mocht je altijd doen wat je wou."
"Maar bij mij niet."
Met een boos gezicht bleef Eduard op de punt van de schrijftafel zitten, maar Vader werkte rustig door en Eduard keek er naar hoe vlug de zwarte lettertjes op 't witte papier kwamen.
Wat moest hij nu gaan doen? Nu mocht hij niet fietsen ook, en dan dat akelige rapport; hoe moest dat nu gaan met 't toelatingsexamen? Als 't zoo doorging mocht hij 't zeker niet eens doen en toch bleef 't vast zoo gaan als Vader er zich niet mee bemoeide. En natuurlijk bemoeide Vader zich er niet mee zoolang hij er zelf niet over begon. Maar wat moest hij dan zeggen?
Eduard stak zijn beenen vooruit en keek naar de punten van zijn schoenen, toen nam hij een afgebrande lucifer van de tafel en bleef daar mee zitten spelen. Maar eindelijk liet hij 't roode houtje op den grond vallen, en zacht begon hij: "Vader!"
"Wat is er?"
[a369] "Denkt u dat ik toelatingsexamen mag doen?" Maar Vader keek niet eens op en zei: "Dat weet ik niet; 't schijnt jou niet te kunnen schelen en dan kan 't mij ook niet schelen."
"Maar 't kán mij wel schelen!"
Nu hield Vader op met schrijven, en hij vroeg: "Waarom heb je niet gewerkt in den tijd dat ik weg was?"
Met groote, verschrikte oogen keek Eduard zijn Vader aan.
"Ik heb wel gewerkt!" zei hij toen.
"Maar waarom heb je niet beter je best gedaan?"
Eduard antwoordde niet dadelijk.
"Dat weet ik niet," zei hij eindelijk, en hij zette [a372] een heel ongelukkig gezicht, "alles was zoo vreeselijk moeilijk en u was er niet!"
"Maar omdat ik er niet was had je toch precies even goed je best moeten doen!"
"Ik kan niet werken als u er niet bij bent!" zei Eduard, maar zonder Vader aan te kijken.
Nu legde Vader zijn pen neer, en achterover in zijn stoel leunend zei hij: "Kijk eens, je kunt best, als je maar wilt. Je moet niet denken dat alles nu maar even gemakkelijk is! Als je dat denkt zul je er heusch nooit komen, dan zul je heusch nooit iets bereiken! Als jij er aldoor aan gedacht hadt dat je werken wilde, en je daarvan niet hadt laten afbrengen, dan had je ook gewerkt! Maar er kwam zoo heel veel afleiding, zoo heel veel dingen waren er die je ook mee wilde doen, en toen schoot je werk er bij in. En toch moet je leeren om daar tegen te kunnen, er zullen altijd, je heele leven door, dingen zijn waar je graag aan mee wilt doen, en waarvoor je je werk in de steek zou moeten laten, en je Vader zal er niet altijd bij zijn om je te vertellen wat je doen moet! Begrijp je goed wat ik zeg, Eddy?"
Eduard knikte van ja.
"En nu vraag je over dat toelatingsexamen voor 't gymnasium kijk, je moet nu zelf maar weten wat je doet; als je zoo door blijft gaan als je nu de vier laatste maanden gewerkt hebt, nee, dan mag je 't stellig niet doen. — En anders, als je [a373] maken wilt dat je 't wel mag doen, dan moet je aanpakken. Je hebt heel veel tijd verknoeid, en ik weet niet of het mogelijk zal zijn om veel in te halen, maar als je het ernstig meent en je wilt je inspannen, dan kun je het probeeren. Je hoeft me niet dadelijk te vertellen wat je doen wilt, denk er maar eens stil over na."
En Vader nam zijn pen weer op en boog zich weer over zijn werk.
"Blijft u vanmiddag thuis werken, Vader?"
"Ja."
Eduard ging naar 't raam en keek naar buiten. Stil bleef hij staan, een heele tijd lang, toen draaide hij zich om en haalde zijn schooltasch uit de gang. En hij ging aan een hoek van de schrijftafel zitten, legde zijn schriften en boeken voor zich, en begon aan zijn sommen.
En aldoor werkte hij verder, zonder op te kijken; en wel werd het niet heel netjes nu hij zijn linkerarm niet kon gebruiken, maar 't maakte hem vandaag niet ongeduldig, en net zoolang rekende hij, tot hij alle antwoorden gevonden had.
Toen stond hij op en zwijgend legde hij zijn werk voor Vader neer.
Aandachtig las Vader de sommen door, toen deed hij het schrift dicht en gaf het terug. "En?" vroeg hij, Eduard aankijkend.
"Ik wou graag probeeren om in te halen," zei Eduard zacht, "als u me helpen wilt tenminste. Ik weet wel dat ik het later alleen moet doen en later [a374] kan ik het misschien ook wel alleen, als u me eerst dan nog maar een beetje helpen wilt."
"Goed," antwoordde Vader, "maar dan blijft er niet veel tijd over voor andere dingen, heb je dat nu wel bedacht?"
"Ja Vader."
"En zijn er nu nog lessen te leeren?"
"Alleen jaartallen, moet ik dat nu eerst doen?"
Vader knikte.
Eduard haalde zijn jaartallenschrift te voorschijn en begon te leeren. Nu was het half vier, om vier uur was hij dus met alles klaar; in al dien tijd dat hij bij Tante Lina logeerde was 't nooit gebeurd dat zijn werk Woensdagmiddags om vier uur af was. En als hij gewild had was het toch eigenlijk best te doen geweest. —
"Weet u wat ik zoo gek vind, Vader?" vroeg Eduard, toen zijn Vader de jaartallen overhoord had.
"Nou?"
"Dat je toch zoo aan elkaar went. Ik dacht toen ik bij Tante Lina was aldoor dat ik niks om ze gaf, om Hugo en Piet en de anderen, de heele familie bedoel ik, begrijpt u?" en Eduard stopte de boeken en schriften weer in zijn tasch.
"En geef je nu toch wel om ze?"
"Dat weet ik eigenlijk niet; maar je went toch wel erg aan elkaar, vind ik. 't Was aldoor zoo'n drukte, en je hadt toch ook wel dikwijls pret met elkaar, en ze hadden altijd plannen, zooals toen die kuil in den tuin, en dat comediespelen en zoo."
[a375] "En ik speel geen comedie met je," zei Vader.
"Nee natuurlijk niet," lachte Eduard, "maar met je tweeën gaat dat ook niks leuk. Kijk, ik vind het natuurlijk wel vreeselijk plezierig om weer thuis te zijn, maar je mist al die drukte toch wel een beetje, 't was soms toch wel erg gezellig."
Vader zuchtte even. "Je zult weer aan je oude Vader moeten wennen, Pepi!" antwoordde hij.
Eduard streek met zijn hand door Vaders haar.
"Dat bedoel ik niet," zei hij, "ik houd van u natuurlijk toch veel meer dan van hen allemaal bij elkaar, maar 't is hier zooveel stiller, begrijpt u?"
"Ja zeker, ik begrijp 't wel." Vader dacht even na. "Weet je wat we doen zullen, Pepi? Als je 't nu ernstig meent met werken en je houdt flink vol, dan gaan we den eersten dag van de groote vacantie dat het mooi weer is naar buiten, den heelen dag, en dan vragen we ze allemaal mee, en dan mag jij kiezen waar we naar toe zullen gaan!"
Eduard vond het een prachtig plan. "Mogen ze allemaal mee?" vroeg hij.
"Ja allemaal; Hugo, en Piet, en Lineke, en de kleine krieltjes, en dan vragen we of Oom Tom en Tante Lina en de juffrouw ook mee gaan."
"En Theo ook? En Meertens? En van Merlen? Dat is ook een leuke jongen!"
"Allemaal," zei Vader.
Eduard dacht even na. "We moesten Piet maar thuis laten," stelde hij voor, "die was er toch eigen-[a376] lijk de schuld van dat ik viel," maar toen hij Vader aankeek, haastig: "Of nee, laat hij toch ook eigenlijk maar meegaan." —
"Edu, daar is die jongen van Meertens en die vraagt of je buiten komt spelen," zei Rika, haar hoofd om de deur stekend.
"Ja, ik kom," antwoordde Eduard, "'t mag immers Vader?"
Zijn Vader knikte.
En Eduard liep de kamer uit en holde de gang door met een daverend "Hallo!"
Met een dreunenden slag viel de voordeur dicht.
Augustus 1907.
Transcriber's Notes:
Dit boek bevat een aantal zetfouten. Sommige fouten zijn stilzwijgend hersteld, zoals ontbrekende aanhalingstekens. In enkele gevallen werden er binnen dubbele aanhalingstekens wederom dubbele aanhalingstekens gebruikt. Voor de duidelijkheid zijn die veranderd in enkele aanhalingstekens.
De 'platte tekst'-versie simuleert met [ ] italic, en met [~] gespatieerde tekst-fragmenten.
De "HTML"-versie toont de oorspronkelijke bladzijde-nummers, de 'platte tekst'-versie niet. De bladzijde-nummers kunnen verborgen worden in de "HTML-versie. Indien gewenst, open dan het HTMLbestand met een tekstverwerker en kijk naar de aanwijzingen bij de CSS-klassen [pagenum] en [hyphen]. Als de bladzijde-nummers zichtbaar zijn, dan hinderen ze niet bij het zoeken naar tekstfragmenten, omdat ze virtueel worden getoond.
Voor het gemak van de lezer is er aan de "HTML"-versie ook een inhoudsopgave toegevoegd
Verder zijn de volgende zetfouten gecorrigeerd (en in de tekst voorzien van 'hints' die de oorspronkelijke tekst tonen): [dat bij dan] → [dat hij dan]
[op die schilderij!"] → [op dat schilderij!"]
[Dat is de concierge] → [Dat is de conciërge]
[Sneeuwitje] → [Sneeuwwitje]
Deze fout kwam 4x voor Deze link verwijst naar de eerst-voorkomende.
[mijn viool gekregen "en] → [mijn viool gekregen en]
[geen anwoord te] → [geen antwoord te]
[het het is jouw beurt!"] → [het is jouw beurt!"]
[dit vers was] → [Dit vers was]
[naar de bioscope] → [naar de bioscoop]
[rozijnen, vermecelli, en] → [rozijnen, vermicelli, en]
[aan te merken hebt ruk je] → [aan te merken hebt, ruk je]
[over 't pikkeldraad] → [over 't prikkeldraad]
[Dat Piet grinnekend] → [Dat Piet grinnikend] Drie maal gecorrigeerd naar de meest voorkomende schrijfwijze in dit boek: [grinniken]
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