At Berkeley in the Sixties: The Making of an Activist

46 The Real Sit-In

46 The Real Sit-In Sproul Plaza was packed with people. They spread out from the steps, onto the terrace, down into the Student Union Plaza, and through Sather Gate across the bridge into Dwinelle Plaza. They ¤lled the balconies of the Student Union and gaped through its glass windows. Gigantic speakers were set up on the southern end of Sproul Hall steps. I settled myself behind the speakers, where I could see clearly but not be blasted by the sound. In a speech that would be quoted many times, Savio told those assembled why we were going in. Once again he denounced the university as a factory whose students were raw material that were sick of being processed. “There is a time,” he said, “when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can’t take part; you can’t even passively take part, and you’ve got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus and you’ve to make it stop. . . . Unless you’re free, the machines will be prevented from working at all.” Joan Baez had the most magni¤cent voice. It resonated through all the plazas; even from behind the sound system I felt enveloped by her passion. She also spoke, asking us to come inside with love, not anger. As she sang, a steady ®ow of students ¤led up the steps and into Sproul Hall. When she stopped, she too went inside and stayed with us until almost midnight. Around 1,500 people were inside at any given time of day, though many came and went. When the doors were shut at the usual closing time of 7:00 p.m., almost 1,000 of us were prepared to stay the night. After that, the campus police let anyone leave but no one could enter, though some climbed ropes to the second-®oor balcony. That is also how baskets of food were brought in. Communication Central was on the roof with walkie-talkies that reached Command Central across the street. The university of¤ces had closed early and their personnel sent home. We watched Dean Towle leave her of¤ce at 6:00 p.m. A path opened for her as she moved down the hallway and descended the stairs. She appeared quite unperturbed by our barely organized chaos, having held her regularly scheduled meetings during the day, which had included forty-¤ve minutes with the presidents of student organizations cited for violating the rules. The of¤ce doors were locked; we made no attempt to enter them. The public bathrooms were almost locked; we took the doors off the hinges. Around 10:00 p.m., Mario phoned Bob Treuhaft and asked him to come to Sproul Hall. Treuhaft was a well-known left-wing lawyer in the Bay Area who had left the CP in 1958. He was a friend of Bettina’s father , and Mario had asked for his advice on legal matters during the SCCPA meetings. He had turned the task over to a junior lawyer in his¤rm, Malcolm Burnstein, though he and other attorneys were available when needed. On December 2nd, Burnstein was with his ill father in Detroit , so Mario phoned Treuhaft. He told his wife he would be back in an hour. The university police guarding the doors recognized him; when he said he was there as our lawyer, they let him in. Treuhaft met with the Steering Committee and advised them on the likely consequences of various options they were considering.1 I went in and out of Sproul Hall during the day but when close-up time came, I staked out a spot on the second ®oor. This was the main activity ®oor; two movies were shown and a Hanukkah service was held for about 150 people. Folk dancing and singing were on the ¤rst ®oor; the third was reserved for those who wanted to study. Classes were held in the stairways, at the newly created “Free University of California,” on such timely topics as civil disobedience, con®ict resolution, and “The Logarithmic Spiral and the Nature of God.” We were not sure whether we faced a siege or a rout, but were prepared for either. While we were waiting, all of the people who had refused to talk to us were trying to decide what to do. Kerr met with the Regents near the San Francisco...