8 Eyewitnesses to History: How Folk Music Comforted an Aching Generation

There’s battle lines being drawn/Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong
Young people speaking their minds/Getting so much resistance from behind

– Buffalo Springfield

If there is one break in the clouds when we reflect on the KSU shootings, it’s unquestionably the number of people who survive today to tell the story. In a photo that remains bone-chilling, the late Alan Canfora is seen waving a flag before the advancing National Guard. Moments later he was seriously wounded by gunfire. His sister Roseann “Chic” Canfora was an eyewitness. Alan and Chic had both fervently spoken publicly about the tragedy for 50 years, but for this book, they both spoke about the special connection music made for them and their peers during this time of heavy disillusionment and grief.  It would be one of Alan’s final interviews.  He died in December 2020 at the age of 71.  His words live on.

“I remember the first time that I heard ‘For What It’s Worth…’” Chic recalls. “So many of our friends were going off to war,” she said, “and you see the battle lines being drawn. We were such a divided country at the time, and it reminds me so much of the way the battle lines being drawn today. I think, of all of the songs, that one haunts me most because it made me pause then and it continues to make me pause now.”

Chic has fought tooth and nail over the past half a century, both as an educator and political activist, for students’ freedom of expression and for a promise that May 4 victims – Allison Krause, Jeffrey Glen Miller, Sandra Lee Scheuer, William Knox Schroeder would be forever remembered. Today, she is also Chief Communications Officer at Cleveland Metropolitan School District as well as adjunct faculty at Cleveland State University and Kent State University, but 50 years ago, she was a fresh-faced college student at Kent State. She was a part of a generation of youth that is prominently remembered today for pushing a flower power ideal, with hair that brushed passed their shoulders, flashing peace signs and wide grins, smoking funny cigarettes. But if you ask them, this was actually a generation of youth in peril.

If you weren’t shipped overseas, you were home, ill at ease about or grieving for your buddies or your brother. No matter where these kids were, they were all hurting in some way. Hurting for change, hurting for safe opportunities to raise their voice; tirelessly looking to express their dissent against the War in Vietnam, and by 1970, to protest Nixon’s order to invade Cambodia. That student-led demonstration against the invasion of Cambodia on Kent State’s campus is what led to the fateful day the U.S. National Guard turned their weapons on unarmed students. Chic will tell you it was fueled, in part, by the messages in the music. “Peter, Paul and Mary’s ‘The Times are Changing’ (the Bob Dylan tune) also is one that comes immediately to mind because the times really were changing. They were so different from the flatness of the 50s. Everything from when I was growing up. We watched (American) Bandstand on TV and everybody was wearing poodle skirts and bobby socks and jumping into cars and thinking about just cruising and having fun all the time. While the 50s, at least growing up for me, a decade of so much hope and promise and all American ideals, the Sixties were a decade of death where we lost JFK, our president, MLK, Bobby Kennedy and all of the really youthful, idealistic leaders who were effecting change. It was Peter Paul and Mary’s song that really resonated with me the most because the times, they were a changing.” Music acts as a bookmark to that era bringing back memories of a terrifying and confusing part of our history.

Chic Canfora, like Leonino, says there are still so many unanswered questions, especially in the days and weeks following the shootings. “They didn’t know any better. We could spend the rest of our lives wondering why Robert White, our president, just left campus when he turned it over to the National Guard. There is probably not a university president in the nation that would be able to explain how he could do that or why he did that. At such a volatile time when we should have — and we know that now — pulled everybody together and called for calm and talked to each other. I mean even on that assembly night when we had a peaceful sitting on campus, guardsmen came with a bull horn and said if you go on to the front lawn and get out of the street, President White will come out and talk with you, because we were calling for President White to come out and talk with us.” So much didn’t seem to make sense.

“Why is the guard on this campus?” Canfora says she wondered. “We don’t want soldiers on our campus. We have a right to hold our rally on Monday. We wanted the university president to talk with us and we didn’t know that he wasn’t even in the house. And when they said go out on to the front lawn and he’ll come out and talk with you, that’s when they used the teargas and bayonets that first night that students were then bayoneted. So, it was not only that he vacated the campus and abandoned us there, but it was also that the National Guard tricked us into thinking that we won. We realized that we were just literally turned over to an army. So, you can spend your whole life being bitter about that, being angry about that. We were talking to the board of trustees and we talked to the university president about that. They’re puzzled by it too. They don’t understand why a former president said five years is long enough to remember. Or why another president at ten years likened us to an irritating presence constantly on the campus. But over the years, we kind of had to lift each other up.”

Chic Canfora also says the wane in protest music may have also affected participation in the movement as a whole, pointing out, “There was an arch to music I remember. If you’ve heard me speak, I always talk about what it was about me that went from not marching anymore, like ‘marching isn’t doing anything’ and then realizing that we had to do something a lot more militant. Phil Ochs, I think it was, who had a song ‘I Ain’t Marching Anymore.’ It was like, just when you were feeling something, and you were feeling it really strong, there was a song that said it. At the same time that we were debating the war, you had John Lennon singing ‘Give Peace a Chance.’ The music kind of grew with us. They watched the movement growing and it’s hard to tell where the music started and where the actions did.”  Even so, “Ohio” looms large in Canfora’s personal history. She recalls her “incredibly special” meeting with CSNY’s David Crosby when he visited the Kent State campus.

“I’m walking with somebody who was iconic to me back then and we stop and pause at a photo of him sitting next to his dad and he’s got the long fringe suede jacket on and it reminded me of his song ‘Almost Cut My Hair.’ Even those kinds of songs that weren’t necessarily protest songs, but yet they were just a song of the culture and the times. That whole Woodstock generation and the Woodstock song itself was a chronicle of the arch of that entire movement when we were just coming aware of not only where we are  and the role it was playing in our life as our whole generation was being sent off to fight and die there and coming home. Dylan, I think was the first one — ‘The answer my friend is blowing in the wind.’ The whole song is just full of questions, but that was around the time there were some jolting songs over the next couple of years where you started to hear songs that kind of predicted destruction and death and things like that. We embraced these songs. Music was so much a part of the movement in the Sixties and Seventies, so I don’t understand why we don’t have the music sticking today, with so much protest again. There doesn’t seem to be an intersect between music and movements today.”

Despite protest music’s “non-stick” factor today that Canfora points out, the symbolism of Woodstock has endured, although it’s several attempts to recreate itself has ultimately failed. Michael Lang — American concert promoter, most famed as a co-creator of the Woodstock Music & Art Festival of 1969 — talked about Woodstock’s enduring message in 2017’s We Blew It, a controversial but fascinating documentary. The film interviews some from the defining age of protest try to answer, “what happened?” to the dreams and ideals of the 1960s and Seventies. When asked why Woodstock’s image of optimism and unity has lasted in our minds for so long, Lang said, “I think the reason Woodstock has endured was that it really became a moment of hope for the world,” he said. “In a very dark time, there was this sort of truce, if you will, where everybody got together and let down their defenses and became a part of this family. I think that kind of resonated around the world, the fact that this was such a peaceful gathering in the midst of all these political turmoil.”

Chic Canfora went on to point out plenty of causes today that would benefit from a unifying message. The Stoneman Douglas High School shootings in Parkland, Florida, stand as an example. “I watched a community try to heal itself,” she says. “They slowly acclimated the students to come back to their campus. I don’t understand PTSD and really what happens to those of us who see something that horrific and then attempt to heal but we felt a bonding to a large extent from our community, our entire university. I don’t know if you know it, but we had to pack a bag and get off campus. There was no outreach on the part of the university to see how we were doing. There was no effort to bring back those of us who saw it, you know, like on a special day so we could walk that ground and put flowers down or hold hands or sing or all those things that were so healing to us during that very difficult time. I think there was a lot of resentment in all those years that followed that there was no embracing of us. There was no outreach to us. The four dead, their families got tuition refunds. So, we didn’t have, like the students at Parkland, who endured tragedy like that, with therapy dogs and flowers and slow process of coming back and processing what happened to you. You know, sharing with each other your feelings and all that.”

Chic’s brother Alan Canfora was one of the students wounded that fateful day on the May 4th Kent State campus, and he remembered the first time he heard “Ohio” on the radio.  “I was riding in the car listening to WMMS”, he recalled, “with several of my friends who were also eyewitnesses at the shooting  The deejay in Cleveland at WMMS said, “Well, this next song might be controversial, but give it a listen and let us know what you think.” We started listening to it for the first time.” It had a powerful and profound effect at Kent State and across the country, not only for marking that transitional point in history but also for its mobilizing effect.

Canfora went on to say, “Well, that was the icing on the cake! But what really gave us some inspiration was the immediate reaction by the students across America. Even on the day of the shootings, starting that afternoon, a few hours after the shooting, the word spread around the country what happened, and the photographs were disseminated. Students just started protesting vigorously and shutting down what turned out to be over 800 colleges and universities. So that’s what really, I think was especially thrilling and inspiring to us, including those of us who were wounded. I know it really meant a lot to me knowing that the young people of our generation were not deceived by the lies of the National Guard. They tried to cover up the crimes, immediately blaming the victims, and to see that the students of America saw through the lies of the National Guard. Protesting more vigorously than ever before in American history. That was very soothing to us and brought us a sense of satisfaction that our four students did not die in vain.” Canfora also noticed the absence of similar definitive messages in the years since “Ohio.”

Canfora remarked, “I’m not sure why, I think maybe it’s because there’s not one sharp issue like the war in Vietnam to inspire such anthems and there’s not such a massive, ongoing protracted, powerful, student movement as there was then. But at that time, I just have to say that I agree with my sister, some of those anti-war songs by various people really did inspire us to continue our protest. It was kind of a reflection of our movement but also an inspiration for our movement. It was like we were one with the culture and with the musicians at the time. I know in spring of 1970, just before the shooting incident, we were particularly inspired by the music of Jefferson Airplane. They had an album that just came out, it was called Volunteers and it had a song in there about revolution. So that, I think, was one of the main anthems that really inspired us. Also, Jimi Hendrix had a record that came out a few months before the shooting incident, it was called Band of Gypsies’ and he had some very inspirational music in there as well. One particular song was called ‘Machine Gun.’ The Grateful Dead had a song, ‘Morning Dew’ that was very antiwar. Clearance Clearwater’s Revival had a song, ‘Fortunate Son.’ There were quite a few of those types of songs that really did cause us to see that our movement against the war was justifiable.” With the way America progressed in that span of time, could protest music find a wider audience?  Canfora also pointed out that some things were also painfully evident in the era of Trump.

“I think that things are rapidly reaching a breaking point for our country. There is a broad range of abuses people are suffering and people are waking up, and I really do believe this that this will be reflected in the culture and the music as time passes by. Especially with the 2020 turning point. I wouldn’t be surprised if some tremendous, progressive political culture comes forward to inspire people to join the protest, join the resistance. The seriousness of the situation will cause more people to awaken about the problems in our society and what the causes are to our problems. I know many young people are looking around and they’re realizing that capitalism is a major part of the problem. It’s greed that’s ruining our country. They’re still looking to socialism and I think that that’s a reflection of the fact that young people, in particular, are awakening and that’s very encouraging to me.”  Canfora also believed music can be used to compel action as well as offer reassurance.  “I think so. That was certainly the effect with us. I think it was very comforting to us. (“Ohio”) also inspired other people to join the protest, which was especially comforting.”

A similar comforting effect took place decades later, after a different shooting. In 2016, a mass shooting took place at “Pulse” nightclub in Orlando Florida, leaving 49 dead and over 50 injured. The shooting was an apparent hate crime toward the LGBTQ community. As the community tried to cope and wrap its head around the heinous crime, Melissa Ethridge quickly went to work writing a song in response to the tragedy.

She explained to Rolling Stone how she processed the heartbreak. “I’m dealing with it the way I deal, which is, I wrote a song,” she said. “I just sat here, and I just started writing a song… That’s how I first started to cope because, as a singer songwriter, I feel very… I’ve done this before. I feel called to speak; to do what musicians do. We’ve been the town criers for hundreds of years. We’re mirrors of society. We want to try to make sense. We want to try to heal. We want to bring some meaning, some purpose. We also want to put it down forever in history. That’s how I’m coping.” Another musician classifying their role as town crier like Nash and Crosby. (Interestingly, Crosby is the biological father of two of her children.) In “Pulse” Ethridge cries,

Once again, I hang my head to cry
I can’t find the reason why they died
We will find the answer
Blowing in the wind
That everybody’s got a pulse.

(© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC)

Ethridge’s response was comforting and on-time for the hurting community. Yet, we don’t always get that from popular music acts after a tragedy. Is this due to ever-changing issues this generation of artists face on a daily basis? Canfora says they could take a cue from the past. “I think this generation, they’re confused very often because the situation is so complicated and so misunderstood, but I think people are starting to figure things out and the key is gonna be when people unite. That was really the big turning point in 1970. People were fed up with racism, environmental problems, sexism, homophobia, various things were coming to a head. Everybody just started standing up and it was like a united expression of opposition to President Nixon, the war in Vietnam and the civil rights movement, the repression of our civil rights leaders. All those things came together, and I think that’s happening again now. With social media, people are able to communicate with each other more easily, able to organize demonstrations and actions against authority. I’m really hopeful for the future. I really think democracy in our country is alive and well.”

The song continued to represent hope for Canfora. “It kind of sparks a glimmer of the reminder of the same old feelings. It’s something I think affects our whole generation. When people hear that song, they remember May of 1970, they remember the four students who were killed at Kent State, how the government had turned its weapons on the common people. That was also a time I think where our generation experienced a great sense of pride that we stood up! That we helped to stop the war in Vietnam, that we helped to join the fight against abuses of civil rights in our country and we even brought down President Nixon. So, I think we look back when we hear that song, it’s inspirational. It is a look backward but also it gave us a sense of pride that even now we can make a difference in our society.” And a last word from Canfora for all who continue to learn about the events of May 4th.   The message was simple but profound. “Thank you. Thank you for remembering us.”

Alan’s sister, Chic, notes the importance of music for social commentary as well as the obvious entertainment factor.  Often not feeling heard at home or made to sound like thugs by newspapers or the Nixon Administration, this generation often turned to musical artists for validation. For many, Bob Dylan was more than a songwriter; he was a poet and a leader. “I was still in high school when somebody turned me on to Bob Dylan,” she says. “In fact, I think I was probably just starting high school when Bob Dylan did ‘Blowing in the Wind…’ with those words ‘how many more until you realize it’s too many?’ Before my generation was going off to war, I was hearing of like my friend’s older sister’s boyfriend died there. So, these songs just kind of piqued your interest.”

This was shocking content at the time. “Somebody’s not just singing about riding around in cars and ‘my boyfriend’s back’ just like the silly songs of the 50s and early Sixties were. Suddenly, they were replaced by these songs that were just challenging.” Challenging because the stimulating lyrics contradicted the perfect image of America that popular music painted a picture of for so many years. “You see this very idyllic 1950s ‘everything is perfect’ America,’” Chic Canfora said, “Then, you had this whole decade where the songs were chronicling all the radical changes. So, it’s not surprising that Dylan right around the time that all of that death was happening, with the death of all the leaders that were young and making a difference. They were all dying; that was what was in our psyche, feeling like ‘how many more before we know it’s just too many?’”

Chic’s portrait of 1950s America matches that of Bob Rafelson – a prominent filmmaker whose thought of as one founder of the New Hollywood movement in the 1970s. In We Blew It, Rafelson said he feels that “the Fifties were a horrible time.” Indeed, the portrait painted across television sets was stark to the reality going on right outside. “I think America was asleep during the Fifties,” he said. “People look back at the fifties as these sort of ‘good old times’ with a bunch of kids in pajamas in front of the radio or television sets watching Davey Crocket and the Mickey Mouse Club. They don’t seem to remember that people were getting bitten by police dogs.” He went on about what led to the utopian dreams of the Sixties and Seventies. “I do think those of us who were raised in the Sixties and Seventies were raised at a time of an awakening. A time where suddenly civil rights and women’s lib and wars that were desperately unpopular began to bubble and then finally boiled over. So, it was an incredibly fertile time where things were happening.”

This generation and their song leaders were so connected, it’s tough to untie the chords to see who was influencing who. “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” Chic Canfora will ask. “Was it the music that inspired us to act a certain way or was the music following the arch of this extraordinary anti-war movement? I think really it was a combination of both. They were catching up with us, but they were also inspiring us.”

Clicks and views and “likes” tend to boost our sense of validation or even unity today, but for Chic Canfora’s generation it was song lyrics that did it. Cementing them together after the heartbreak of May 4, with some ease and even validation. “It was songs that did that for us” Canfora said. “It was those songs that comforted us [after May 4] and made us feel that we weren’t alone. They made us feel that others were grieving with us and were there for us and understanding us. I think ‘Ohio’ did that for us more than any of the songs of that time,” Chic Canfora said.

The fact that four of the biggest names of music put everything down to push “Ohio” out to put the spotlight on the young lives that were lost by the hand of our own soldiers was perhaps the strongest recognition they received at the time. Even the University immediately sent the students packing, unsure how to handle the days and even years following the event; never quite checking in with them or offering any resources for healing.

“I have to believe that it was the songs like ‘Ohio’ that immediately came in and said ‘We hear you. We saw you. We feel your pain’ that truly had an impact on just keeping us sane at that time,” Chic Canfora said. “I don’t think there’s anybody who survived the shooting who wouldn’t say that music played a part in doing that — in lifting our spirits. It was one thing that bonded all of us. It’s the song that we react to the strongest when we hear ‘Ohio.’”

“It really does create a healing effect because I know ‘Ohio’ had tremendous meaning for us,” Chic says. “We understood the global impact of our experience. We felt a comradery with so many people who, when they hear that song, they think of us. It also just really became an anthem for us of that time period. Somebody put in stone, somebody put in writing, what if you knew her and found her dead on the ground? We knew her and we found her dead on the ground. That [song] did more to heal us than anything.”