Tragic July Brings KU Under Fire
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back at him once and then he returned the fire, striking Dowdell in the back of the head.
Youth Flees for Cover as Police Hurl Gas Canisters . figure in foreground believed to be that of Rice
On July 22, an all-white coroner's jury exonerated Garrett of any wrongdoing in the death of Dowdell.
The only witness to the shooting, except for police, was Franki Cole, of Enid, Okla., a summer session freshman. She was driving the Volkswagen from which Dowdell ran before he was shot.
During the inquest, Douglas County Attorney Dan Young refused to let Miss Cole testify, because she wanted only to read a prepared statement. She was refused immunity by the county attorney.
Later, she did give a statement to Kansas Bureau of Investigation (KBI) agents. She said she heard only one shot fired.
The testimony of Miss Cole, and that of police and residents in the area of the shooting, given to KBI agents who compiled a report released last week, provided one of many examples of contradiction and variety of interpretation arising from the events of July 16-20 in Lawrence.
Medical tests from an autopsy on the body of Dowdell are yet to be completed, and the KBI report raises more questions than it answers. There is no doubt that the all-white composition of the coroner's jury only exacerbated tense black-white relations in Law-rence.
THE DEATH of Dowdell was the springboard for a series of sniping and firebombing incidents, and from the time Lawrence residents awoke to the news of Dowdell's death, the uneasy fears and tensions of last spring grew
The old solidarity and sympathy between the "street people" of the Oread Avenue area north of the campus and Lawrence blacks, which developed during the confrontations at Lawrence High School last spring, asserted itself again in posters which began to appear after Dowdell's death, urging support for the "black brothers," and asserting that "Tiger" Dowdell had been mercilessly cut down by Lawrence "pigs."
The old "white house" at 1225 Oread which by the end of the summer had been torn down to make way for a parking lot, once again became the scapegoat for the street people's outrage. It was the victim of numerous arson attempts in efforts to draw firemen and police into the area north of the campus.
Two incidents the night following the
George Kimball . . . speaks to press
death of Dowdell marked the end of disturbances in the east Lawrence area. That night, a policeman was wounded and a police patrol cruiser was put out of service when it was struck by several shotgun and rifle bullets.
By this time, it was becoming apparent to residents as well as city officials that if more violence were to occur it would be in the rows of old room houses in the 12th and Oread area.
BY THE NIGHT of July 19, harassed police began to resort to tear gas to dispel the street people. Fire hydrants were repeatedly opened and several were damaged, each time drawing police into the area in order to shut them off.
This series of confrontations seemed to escalate until it reached a climax on the night of July 20.
The night began in the usual pattern. Police were called to shut off a fire hydrant and quench a small series of fires in the area. The police reported that they were assaulted with rocks, bottles and tomatoes each time they were called into the area.
Police finally closed the Rock Chalk Cafe and used tear gas to disperse the crowd. A Volkswagen was overturned and the police observed several people tossing matches at it.
By this time, harassed by real and imagined threats, and largely untrained in riot situations, the police charged the young people, tossing tear gas canisters, and finally opening fire.
The KBI report says only, "Mr. Rice was later discovered dead. We cannot demonstrate that he was killed by a police bullet. We cannot demonstrate he was not killed by a police bullet. One shot was fired at a fleeing felon. We cannot demonstrate that that bullet struck Mr. Rice."
And, as with others involved directly and indirectly in the events of July 16 to 20 in Lawrence, the aftermath may be as tragic as the central events themselves. Only last week, the mother of the dead youth reported that her family was still receiving hate mail—blaming, suggesting, accusing.
Mr. Rice—Harry Nicholas Rice, Leawood sophomore, had been in Lawrence for a date and had been drawn, as many others had, to the 12th and Oread area. He, like so many others, apparently was just another innocent victim of what went on in Lawrence this summer.
IF THERE IS another lesson to be learned from the tragedy of the summer, it is that there is no monopoly on extremism. It seems to surface in times such as these.
Among those who saw Chancellor Chalmers as responsible for the latest outbreak of violence was Regent Henry Bubb of Topeka. A man viewed by some as ambitious and keenly determined to call the shots on policies and personnel involved in the direction of KU, Bubb had opposed the idea of allowing students to finish the last school term under a system of alternatives. He was and still is convinced that KU desperately needs a "strong" administrator as the solution for the problems which seem to many to be campus-centered, rather than essentially community problems.
Of Chalmers, Bubb said, "He's a psychologist and he feels that if you leave things alone, things will work themselves out. He's a complete optimist.
But you can't leave a powder keg alone with matches burning all around and not have something happen."
BUBB'S CONVICTIONS solidified with his motion at a Board of Regents meeting on July 26 that Chalmers be fired. The motion failed by a vote of 4-3.
Chalmers himself said he had no intentions of resigning and at the same time warned that crisis management of a university drained energy and enthusiasm, while creating tension and frustration.
At the same time he said, "I would resign instantly if I thought it best for the University."
But Henry Bubb remains entrenched in his position, convinced that, as he says, "the chancellor's time is limited, unless things change radically."
Chalmers, meanwhile, embarked on an ambitious speaking tour across the state of Kansas to tell the KU story and fight the waves of backlash.
Everywhere the questions were the same. The alumni were concerned about the influence of the BSU in the running of the University. At the same time as the vote on the firing of Chalmers, the Regents had ordered the firing of Gary D. Jackson, a black graduate assistant in the dean of men's office, who had allegedly driven to Topeka and purchased 27 boxes of ammunition a few days after Dowdell's death. Jackson had been recommended for hiring by the BSU as part of a program to hire more black students for involvement in different phases of the University operation.
THE ALUMS were also worried about Chalmers' reactions to threats of any future violence, and to activities of faculty members.
Chalmers was well received wherever he went across the state and his warmth and charm won him many friends, if not firm supporters.
SUMMER WAS primary election time in Kansas, and KU's frequent critic and watchdog, Reynolds Shultz of Lawrence, entered the race for lieutenant governor. Most probably because of his reputation for advocating a "hard line" with regard to the campus, he won a narrow victory by a margin of 1,098 votes.
One of the shortest of KU's summers became one of the longest, and the consequences and implications of what happened in Lawrence can never be erased. A team from the President's Commission on Campus Unrest visited Lawrence in an effort to probe even deeper into the causes and effects of Lawrence's tortuous summer. One of the commission staff members remarked before he left that what had happened in Lawrence was different from Kent State or Jackson State. In his review, their problems were uniquely campus problems, but Lawrence's problems were less definable, because of their roots in a situation not confined to the campus.
But if the problems of black-white and straight-freak relations cannot be defined in a narrow spectrum, neither can the solution. If agreement is small between the varying elements of Lawrence, who are now meeting with representatives from all segments of the community, they seem to agree that city and campus cannot each blame the other. For it is a mutual challenge, and one that they want to meet, in spite of the persistent rumors that KU can only expect worse disruption and violence this fall.
A Relative of Dowdell Leaves Funeral . . . black community mourns his death