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IN PARIS Charles Plymell, June 1968
Charles and Pam Plymell, 1966
In Paris the black and red flags fly from the Sorbonne. In Paris workers and students unite, presentiment of world revolution- and communists also bourgeois pigs.
General de Gaulle tells the people that the "shit-in-the-beds" would get 'em-- cut out and left them in a political vacuum until they burned their own cars and cried for a leader. His experience and southern C.R.S. superior to the sling-shots of cerebral students.
Charges begin at two a.m. The delicate shops intact by noon the stones are in place in the street the cars hauled off, gas in the air, the Frenchman has his lunch. If you want to miss the revolt go to bed early and wake up at noon.
Outside the Coupole the sweet bums are kissing à la Genet. The active ones anyway . . . not those grown formless huddled against the wall, skin draped, as if pinched from a rotten peach.
And in the Coupole the very rich, and very young, and very beautiful boys and girls caught slumming talk all night of how they wreck their cars and how many speeding
tickets they have, and properly surrounded by puffs of fame they leave that act the same.
AD Winans and Robert Kennedy, 1966 - Photo AD Winans
A newspaper reads "BYE, BYE, BOBBY" and all about gun-crazed America. Late that night the cafe is cleared with police and tear gas outside. Standing with Mary & Claude I take a napkin, wrap it around my face and camp, "Can you imagine an American in this situation without a gun?"
And then one evening before the delicate French moon trailed above the balconies of filigree dripping pools of silver and sky through black shadowed trees Pam walked on bricks of childhood streets.
The next day we lit a candle for Kennedy i n Notre Dame in frontof a statue with a serpent at its feet.
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