Gregory Alan Norton

When I arrived in Decatur, Illinois in the summer of 1994 to participate in union picket lines I had assumed that all the usual rules would be in play. We stayed peaceful but militant. When the police attacked us, we would defend ourselves but give ground as necessary. If they shoved us, we’d shove them back. If they clubbed us, we would send back an equal amount of energy with a fist or a foot. When they got around to gassing us, we’d throw it back at them. Just don’t pick u

When I saw the column of smoke rising from Chicago’s Grant Park, I knew something was wrong. Then I saw groups of young people streaming northbound along Michigan Avenue away from the park. It was July 28, 1970: I was driving a taxi, and Sly and the Family Stone had been scheduled to play in the park that day. As larger numbers of hysterical people kept running away on Michigan Avenue, I was able to steer to the west to State Street and put more distance between the taxi and

The undercover cop looked nervous and didn’t enjoy being followed by a couple of demonstrators who were pointing him out. The cop turned around to confront them, but they blended into the crowd before he could do anything about it. I was standing five feet away from the cop as I watched him pull out a .38 special short-barrel, five-shot pistol from his winter coat. This was happening in Chicago in February 1970. We were all gathered at 26th and California, Cook County Jail, t