APPALACHIAN TALES: THAT TIME I HELPED ORGANIZE A COLLEGE PROTEST

Actual factual pic of the "Choice Rally" at Virginia Tech about 40 years ago.  I was there, man.  

By Grant McGee

                Some folks were protesting in front of the county courthouse a few days ago. 

                I like seeing folks protest.  It means that something has generally pissed them off so much they have gotten off their ass from in front of the TV, made some signs and taken their complaint out where everyone can see.

                Once upon a time, long ago and far away I helped organize a protest. 

It was something I actually stumbled upon.

It was back when I was in college at Virginia Tech.  I was hauling my laundry back to my dorm room when I passed notice stuck on the wall:  “ISN’T IT TIME WE HAD CO-ED DORMS?  HELP PLAN A PROTEST EVENT!  CALL LINDA.”

I don’t know how things are now on college campuses across this great land but back in the ‘70’s there were dorms for boys and dorms for girls. 

When queried by student reporters, college administrators basically said, “What’s the problem here?  We have a co-ed dorm.”

A co-ed dorm to Virginia Tech administrators was a building called Ambler-Johnston Hall.  I don’t have the exact numbers but it was something like there was an east wing and a west wing.  Dudes were in one wing, dudettes in another.  There!  A co-ed dorm.

Now, you were allowed to have members of the opposite sex visit your room but they had to be gone by 9pm.  If the girl got caught staying past that time you got “written up.”

I had a girl come visit me in my dorm room in my freshman year.

Really.  Just visit.

Her name was  Katrina.  I don’t even know how I came to know her.  She was from the DC area but I found her interesting because she had been born back in the mountains.

So there she was in my dorm room.

And she had to use the bathroom.

And there was one bathroom for, like, 20 rooms in an all-guy dorm.

So I walked down the hall and made sure the bathroom was clear of guys then I motioned for Katrina to come on in.  She went in and I stood outside the door.

Now I never asked Katrina WHY she needed to use the bathroom but within moments it became very apparent.

There were noises.

Then more noises.

Then a bit later there was the noise of a toilet flushing and then she emerged from the bathroom.

“Let’s go for a drive,” she said.

“Sounds good,” I said.  So we left the dorm, went out to the parking lot, hopped in my car and took off for a Saturday afternoon ramble.

Later that evening back at the dorm room I had a deep discussion with my roommate Dick.

“I didn’t know girls pooped,” I said.

“WHAT?” he put down his book and looked at me.  Sidebar comment here:  Dick did an awful lot of studying in college, I did not.  This may be key as to why he graduated and I did not.

“Of course they poop, dumbass,” he said.  “Whaddya think, they save it up for a once-a-year special occasion?”

“No,” I said, holding a hand in the air as if to say ‘wait a minute,’ “I mean I KNOW they poop I’ve just never been around when they did.”

“You should think about what you say before you say it,” he said.

I then proceeded to tell Dick about Katrina’s visit.

He laughed and laughed then went back to studying.  I put on my headphones and went back to listening to music.

Anyway, I digress.

About that college protest over co-ed dorms……

                So I called Linda.  Hell yeah I wanted to help out, I told her.  Hell yeah we should have co-ed dorms!   Hell yeah!  A protest would be a blow against authority!  Most folks know I have problems with authority, but that’s another story.

Besides, I was a college student…I had lots of time on my hands.  Plus I didn’t have a girlfriend and I thought it might be a cool way to find one.

             I was the Mass Communications major on the team so it fell upon me to design snazzy notices of the upcoming protest which I then posted all over campus.

When the day came over 2,000 people showed up in the middle of the university at an open place called “The Drillfield” for what became known as "The Choice Rally."  

It was actually quite a sight.

A young reporter showed up from the TV station in Roanoke, about 50 miles away.

“Man,” he said, “If you can get 2,000 Virginia Tech students to show up on a Saturday to protest, that’s something!”

Emphatic speeches were given.

“We demand co-ed dorms!” shouted one young woman who raised her fist in the air.  There was mild applause, a few fists held high in the air in response.  I didn’t applaud, I was transfixed by the copious amount of bushy hair in her armpits.

More speeches were given.

I took notes for an article in the student newspaper.

Students with guitars strummed protest songs off key…

“Tin soldiers and Nixon coming.  We’re finally on our own…”  Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s “Ohio.”  I didn’t see how this song about the Kent State shootings related especially since we weren’t ringed by National Guardsmen or even the cops, but it was their moment to play and they had the guitars.

                A man with shades and a camera was strolling around taking pictures. 

                Being the Mass Communications major and wannabe ace reporter for the student newspaper I followed him.

                “Are you with the newspaper?” I asked when I caught up to him.

                “No, I’m with University Security.”

                And with that he pointed his camera at me and said, “Smile.”

                The following fall there were still no co-ed dorms.  I heard that Linda, fed up with being at what she thought was an unprogressive university, transferred to some college in California.

                I went back to classes and continued being a college student with lots of time on my hands, hanging out at the student radio station, the town music shop and taking lots of naps.

                And still no girlfriend.

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