Passing Words: John Cleary

He was laying on the ground and someone placed a hand on his chest. "Wake," a voice said, and so he did. Panic ensued and the timeline was garbled: was his dad calling him, was he late for class, did he forget something about his wife and his kids? "Peace," the voice said over his internal dither, and he stood up to take in the quiet of the lake and the sunlit beauty of the woods. Walking the path that seemed to open before him, he saw that every tree along the way had formed a name in its bark (and he recognized some of those). "Oh, okay," he whispered as he walked. "Wow." He was reflective - almost to the point that he couldn't stop reflecting; it was as if he felt compelled to process his every moment right then and there. "This part is trippy," he heard Jeffrey Miller say, but Jeff had died in 1970 and that was even trippier. The path went on passing older and older trees and more and more names until it seemed to be disappearing into a field of light. There is so much unrest in a single life, he marveled, and so much magnificence, too; the tranquility felt welcome, but weird.

*** WARNING: GUN VIOLENCE *** Remembering the life of John Cleary, who has passed at the age of 74. Mr. Cleary was one of the students shot at Kent State in May of 1970; the photograph of other students trying to calm and help him was selected for the cover of Life magazine and won a Pulitzer Prize. Mr. Cleary put the past behind him and refused interviews for a long time, following the counsel of his family who urged him to not bring the shooting up and stir up trouble with politicians and military personnel. He changed his mind when his first child was born in 1981 and began attending anniversary events at Kent. Student groups rang the bell on campus in commemoration of his passing.