In cleaning out my late mother's house in Evanston, I came across a letter I’d written to my parents in September, 1970, about a month after arriving in Berkeley for law school. Here is the key paragraph:
All of my room-mates got arrested last week for public nudity. They were on a deserted beach that you can’t even see without binoculars. They were there for a whole day without seeing anybody until two rangers climbed down to the beach at 5 pm. That was it, into the lock-up. It was the Marin County Hall of Justice – where the courtroom shoot out was. I had a meeting to go to that day, otherwise I would have been with them. Very lucky for me.
I didn’t mention that I had to drive up to Marin County to bail out my house-mates, of whom there were about six (no other law students). Looking back, it’s more likely that I stayed away because I have never liked the beach, and used some meeting as an excuse. That was probably one of the last times anyone was arrested for public nudity in Marin County.
The commemorative six cent stamp on the envelope read "South Carolina, 1670-1970. I wrote right next to it "= racism + poverty."
The "courtroom shoot out" needed no explanation, having take place on August 7, 1970, when 17 year-old Jonathan Jackson attempted to free his brother, George Jackson, author of Soledad Brother, who was on trial for the murder of a guard at Soledad Prison on January 16, 1970. Both the younger Jackson and the presiding judge were killed, the latter by a shotgun purchased by Angela Davis who was later indicted, tried, and acquitted of aggravated kidnapping and murder. Davis was a fugitive when I wrote the letter; she was finally arrested in October.
George Jackson himself was killed in an escape attempt at San Quentin on August 21, 1971, leading to the prosecution of six other inmates who became known as the San Quentin Six. I worked on their case during my second year in law school
Interesting.
Steve, quite a story — thanks for it.