THE DAY THAT STARTED like any other would come to be one that every student on the young UC San Diego campus would never forget . Vietnam protests had become common over the preceding years , and the week prior Urey Hall had even been occupied by students . So it was not out of the ordinary on May 10 , 1970 , for a lone student to enter Revelle Plaza bearing a sign reading “ In God ’ s name , End this war .” But then George Winne Jr ., a 23-year-old student who had covered himself with rags soaked in gasoline , lit himself on fire .
Winne began to run until graduate student Keith Stowe , MS ’ 67 , PhD ’ 71 , tackled him and attempted to smother the flames . More students helped extinguish the fire , and soon campus police arrived and took them both to the hospital , where Winne , who recited the Lord ’ s Prayer throughout the night , received treatment for the severe burns covering 95 percent of his body . He died the next morning .
Later that day , campus minister Lesley Atkinson and distinguished philosophy professor Herbert Marcuse led a small memorial . Students , faculty , and staff passed through Revelle Plaza paying their respects , attempting to process the pain of a student death while also thinking about what it meant , or what it was intended to mean . Was Winne ’ s immolation an extreme form of protest , or was it a rash and reckless gesture ? Debate over the means of the act tends to overshadow any intended message — some find his action important , others consider it foolish , while many at UC San Diego today don ’ t know it happened at all .
The question of what to make of Winne ’ s act has certainly affected how to remember it . Officials at Revelle College initially blocked any memorial . At some point the supposed bricks upon which Winne immolated himself were removed from the plaza and relocated to a small eucalyptus grove behind Geisel Library . In 2014 , a separate memorial called the May 1970 Peace Memorial was built in Revelle Plaza to honor broader student activism of the time . Its inscription reads , “ For George Winne , Jr ., the student activists of May 1970 , and all those who continue the struggle for a peaceful world .”
Excerpt from Triton Times , May 15 , 1970
IT WAS A VERY DISTURBING TIME IN THE U . S . We were engaged in the Vietnam War , killing people indiscriminately and by the hundreds every week , napalming villages , defoliating forests so we could see better to kill , etc . All of us had friends involved , and probably most of us knew someone killed there . I did not know George before that day .
I had come to campus to work on my doctoral thesis project . A few of us were in a meeting room discussing our next anti-war activity . I didn ’ t see George pour the gasoline on himself , but we all ran out once we saw him ablaze .
I immediately tackled him and rolled over on him to put the flames out . He was taller and heavier than I thought , so I was glad I hit him hard to get him down . But the fire did not go out easily . You would put some out , and then another part would flare up again . Many others helped with their jackets by then , and someone threw a blanket from a dorm window .
A campus police car appeared on the plaza and took George and me to the hospital . I had burned my arms and face a bit , but I wasn ’ t in bad shape . Beside me in the backseat , George was clearly badly burned and I knew he would die soon . He tried to talk , but it came out as a harsh , loud whisper . He said I should have let him die . I was hurting and a little angry at him , and I still regret that I had no kind words to say right then . I only said two words in that car , and they were an unkind , “ You will .”
But I knew he was right . I should have let him die there , because it would have been quicker and less painful than the days he ’ d spend in a hospital bed . We all knew that George was a microcosm of the pain that was going on in the war , as we dropped napalm and burned up the residents of hundreds of villages in Vietnam .
He died within days . I was in the hospital a week with dermatologists working on me . His mother visited to tell me how much she loved him , and to thank me for my effort . I still have subtle reminders , places where funny skin regrew on my hands and face . I don ’ t regret it at all , but I do regret not saying anything kind before he died .
How should he be remembered ? He gave his life in a very painful way to bring attention to what we were doing to people by the hundreds every week in another part of the world . There was sincerity in that , but a tragedy overall .
– Keith Stowe MS ’ 67 , PhD ’ 71
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