VVAW History: San Francisco Vets Day Parade 1972

VVAW in a traditional parade, what a trip, most of us thought as we made our way to our assigned area to form up. Which, by the way, was in the rear of the whole column of participating groups. That was no surprise. The powers that be would rather have had us behind the street sweepers that came last of all.

Everybody was there, VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars), American Legion, National Guard, Reserves, school bands, other groups from all around the Bay Area and finally us: two hundred long-haired, jungle- fatigued young men and women Vietnam vets with attitudes. As a former Army Drill Sergeant, I watched with a smile as our group, which any self-respecting Drill Sergeant would have called a herd, formed up. It seemed that everyone had forgotten, or was trying to forget, what a formation of four ranks was or looked like. Also what any facing movement right or left was like, or what "keep in step" meant.

The parade moved out from the bottom of O'Farrell Street in the financial district of San Francisco, and finally we started to move from our position by the Trans America building. I felt a warm feeling of pride in my heart as we moved out, knowing that our group was in fact a fine example of a well-tuned herd. I think everyone else knew and felt the same.

VVAW participation in this parade had taken months to realize. Shortly after people returned from the last patrol to Miami, we started to work on the San Francisco Vets parade. At first the city was receptive to us but then said no. The San Francisco City government probably got flack from the main-line vets' groups about the VVAW being allowed to participate at all. This was, after all, supposed to be a morale booster. The war was just about over and had been a mess by any stretch of the word. "We ain't going to have a bunch of antiwar, anti-military pukes remind us how screwed up things are," was the attitude of the people in charge.

So, instead of letting us be part of the parade, they made us go the long way around. People in the San Francisco chapter started to brainstorm ways of getting in. Jack McClosky, Lee Thorn, Mike Oliver, Jim O'Donnell and others explored all kinds of ideas.

1972 was an election year with the fuhrer, Herr Nixon, making sure he would win. But San Francisco was a democratic city, so McGovern showed up for a rally at the Cow Palace, a place in the south side of San Francisco (actually in Daly City) used for rodeos, concerts and exhibitions of all kinds. A perfect place for large noisy crowds.

There were three main VVAW chapters in the Bay Area: San Francisco, Redwood City (south on the peninsula) and San Jose, further south. A bunch of us decided to go to the rally. I was roving between the three chapters, sort of a member at large. About fifteen of us met in front of the entrance and tried to get in. You guessed it, no access, full up was the reason.

The entrance to the Cow Palace was a walled affair with a roof that faced inward and chain link fence between turnstile-type gates with ticket booths. This formed a courtyard to the doors to the building. There we were, outside looking in. What to do? Easy, we're vets, right? We know how to climb, so climb we did. Myself and others put our backs to the wall, interlaced our fingers, and each of the others put a foot in our hands and we hoisted them up to the roof.

Once there, they helped others coming up. There were wives, women friends and kids in the group and everyone worked together. Once everyone was on the roof, we reversed the process into the inner courtyard. Within two minutes, start to finish, we were formed up and ready to enter the rally. We entered by a side door, unfurled the VVAW banner and walked around the edge of the rally.

On the main floor was folding chair seating and bleachers around the walls. We walked between the chairs and bleachers. People saw the VVAW banner and our group and started to applaud and cheer their approval. The place was packed but one more group for the cause was OK. We settled in for the speeches and such.

After the rally, we left and formed up outside to make sure everyone was ready to go home. That's when the unexpected happened. In forming up, we were right by the driveway that the VIPs used. There were crowds of people and limos were moving slowly. McGovern's car stopped abreast of our group, the window opened, and there I was staring into the car at McGovern and the mayor of San Francisco, Joseph Alioto. I leaned forward and told McGovern that San Francisco had denied VVAW a position in the Vets Parade. The Mayor frowned and looked away. McGovern said he couldn't do anything about that. I replied that I didn't expect him to do anything, we just wanted him to know that little fact. He looked at the Mayor, the Mayor looked at the floor and I stood there feeling out of place and with nothing more to say. I did tell the Mayor that it was nothing personal, just politics, but I don't know if he got that.

Now for me to be at that spot at that time was just happenstance. I was not a spokesperson for the group. I was just there and seized the opportunity to speak. Any one of us would have done the same thing if they were standing where I had been.

Over the next week or so, people were trying to figure out how to get in the parade. Then the idea was there and once people saw it, they were surprised how obvious it was and they hadn't seen it sooner.

Some of the vets in the Redwood City VVAW chapter went to Canada Junior College and belonged to the Vets Club there. So the Vets Club of Canada College applied to the City of San Francisco for a spot in the parade and was approved. Now, weeks later, VVAW was standing in position in front of the street sweepers getting ready to move out. Who says a little creative thinking doesn't go a long way.

The parade went up O'Farrell to Polk, turned left down about three blocks to City Hall, the civic center, and the reviewing stand filled with city VIPs and military brass. When we turned on to O'Farrell at the end of the column, we opened our banner and people started to shout their approval. Jack McClosky was on one side of the banner and another vet on the other side led us out. It felt just great, total irony to the max. Here we were, an antiwar group getting support from the crowds on the sidewalk.

At the corner of O'Farrell and Polk where we would make the left is the Mitchell Brothers Theater, one of San Francisco's X-rated movie houses. The marquee is on both streets. There is also a huge mural of the earth on the Polk side, whales, fish, birds, rain forest, etc. -- quite impressive. It was the marquee that got everyone's attention today though. In bold letters it read, "Mitchell Brothers Theater salutes Vietnam Veterans Against the War." So, even though we were last, every other group had to read that sign as they passed. The cheers went up as we made the turn and headed down Polk to City Hall. About a block from the reviewing stand, we got our escort in the form of two lines of mounted San Francisco police. One on each side of the street. Just like the one I saw in Golden Gate Park when I met VVAW for the first time. But that's another story.

Down Polk we went, street sweepers pulling drag. As we approached the reviewing stand, the VIP and brass stood out of respect even though they probably didn't want to. The only thing we didn't have was a color guard. It had been discussed but nobody wanted to carry the Stars and Bars, so it was left out. Too bad, for what happened next would have been one of the best pictures even taken.

We stopped in front of the reviewing stand, the VIPs and brass still standing. On command, every one of us came to a smart position of attention, did a very crisp left face, and, facing the crowd, with our backs to the brass, on command two hundred clenched fists were in the air. The media and onlookers went nuts. Shouts of "right on" and "stop the war" were heard all through the crowd. The brass sat down and looked at the floor. What a picture that would have been if we'd had a color guard. Then the brass would have had to stand and salute sixty feet from the flag's approach, the whole time it was in front and sixty feet as it left. Oh well, it was still a great picture.

On command, the fists came down, we did another crisp right face and moved out. Clear of the reviewing stand, we broke ranks and walked from the area, off to other parts of the city to party and debrief another well-executed operation by a bunch of crazed Nam vets.