“67 Shots: Kent State and the End of American Innocence” by Howard Means c. 2016, Da Capo Press $25.99 / $33.99 Canada 288 pages
Things can change in an instant.

It only takes a minute to catch a mistake, a blink for disaster to occur, a heartbeat to alter history. When it’s over, you wonder how things happened so fast: a second, two shakes of a lamb’s tail or, as in the new book by Howard Means, just “67 Shots.”

May 4, 1970, was a deadly day in South Vietnam: 24 American soldiers died there in the jungle heat; just average boys, “mostly white, mostly single, mostly volunteers.” Mostly under age 20.

It was hot in America, too, that weekend prior: the Lakers played the Knicks for the championship; Muhammad Ali had just been stripped of his boxing title; the Beatles were letting it be; ROTC centers across the nation were under attack; and Richard Nixon had just dropped a verbal bombshell in a “Cambodia speech.” Residents of Kent, Ohio, who hated the local college population’s burgeoning political activism, complained about out-of-towners who seemed to be goading the students.

Terri Schlichenmeyer
Students at Kent State University were likewise restless; frisky at the end of a long cold winter, they flocked to downtown bars to let off steam, and various protest organizations had rallied that weekend. Rumors flew like Frisbees, claiming that the campus’ ROTC building would be torched but police and officials didn’t appear worried, and didn’t seem surprised when it did.

Shortly afterward, students were put under lock-down, and the National Guard took over campus.

There were protests that Saturday night; hundreds of students were tear-gassed, but few thought that Guardsmen actually had live ammunition. Helicopters scanned campus and looked for curfew violators. It was quieter on Sunday, a bit more relaxed, though there were isolated incidences of violence and, despite that there was a ban, an anti-Guard protest rally was scheduled for Monday, May 4 at noon.

At 9 a.m. Monday, a meeting was held by officials to discuss looming problems.

Early classes were warned to stay away from trouble.

Tear-gas was in the air just before lunch.

At 11:58, some Guardsmen were ordered to form a line.

By 12:24, the first of four students lay dead…

It’s hard not to think of a certain iconic picture when you’re reading “67 Shots.” It’s hard not to hear Neil Young in your head, and it’s definitely hard not to wince.

Even though we know what happens, there’s a sense of dread in the scenes that author Howard Means recreates, which escalate to the breathtaking culmination of this book. That arrives, surprisingly, long before you even get halfway through the pages; Means then shows how everything changed in just thirteen seconds, how Kent State “unmoored” a nation and a president, and what ramifications came in the aftermath – legally, personally (to those who were there), and historically.

While, of course, anyone can read this book, I think it’ll have more meaning to Boomers who remember the before and after of Kent State. “67 Shots” is a sharp account that fills in the blanks and takes you back. For that, you’ll want it in a heartbeat.