Fannie Flagg - Standing in the Rainbow

They flew out to San Francisco the day before his appearance, with Rodney, Wendell, and Seymour grumbling all the way. They checked into a hotel and Hamm did not sleep much that night. He had worked long and hard on his speech and had made an effort to be especially careful about his grammar and his accent. He wanted to be up to the task of speaking in such a distinguished place of higher learning. This was the first time in years he had been nervous before a speech. He asked Rodney four times if his suit was all right and changed his tie twice.

They were picked up at nine and driven over the bridge to the campus, and as expected a lot of the students were out and waiting for him. As they drove past the crowd toward the back entrance of the auditorium, the students and others started yelling and banging on the car. For some reason, this did not phase Hamm. He was now calm and collected.

But the others suddenly started to get jumpy. Seymour, his bodyguard, had insisted that Hamm wear a safety vest that morning and when he got a look at the protesters he was glad he had. "Damn," he said, "I fought Japs that weren't as mad as this bunch."

Seymour reached in his pocket and felt for his blackjack. "If we get out of here alive we'll be lucky."

The messages being waved in front of them varied from sign to sign.

VIETNAM IS A RACIST WAR; HIROSHIMA HAMM; GO BACK TO THE BOONDOCKS, WARMONGER; WHITE TRASH, GO HOME; HEEHAW HAMM; EAT

DIRT, YOU STUPID REDNECK. But Hamm just smiled and waved at the crowd as if they were happy to see him, which infuriated them further. When they finally got inside the hall, the president of the university, a dry, colorless man with dandruff, greeted him coldly and when Hamm put out his hand, the man went out of his way not to shake it, afraid someone might take his picture. Once they got onstage, his charm-free introduction consisted of five words: "Ladies and gentlemen, Hamm Sparks."

From the start things did not look good. The mere mention of his name caused the audience to roar with disapproval. The president went down and sat in the front row with the other professors as Hamm walked to the podium with his speech in hand. "Thank you for that gracious introduction, Mr. President," he said, smiling, trying to make the best of a bad situation. "I am honored and privileged to have been invited to speak at your university today. I want you to know that nobody supports and admires education more than myself. I also bring all of you greetings from the people of the great state of Missouri."

Suddenly, amid a growing chorus of catcalls and boos, six or seven tomatoes were thrown and one splattered by his foot. Hamm glanced down at the front row, fully expecting the president to stand up and put a halt to this, but he did nothing; nor did any of the other professors who sat there, many with a slight smirk on their faces. It was at that moment he realized he was up there on his own.

Hamm stood motionless for a moment while the melee continued and watched as the group of protesters from outside came into the hall and marched around chanting and waving their signs in what was obviously a wellplanned demonstration against him.

They'd never had any intention of hearing his speech. He felt like a fool. Vita and the boys had been right. Rodney was in the wings and motioned him to come off the stage. He could have turned around and walked out but he did not. Instead, he got mad and he dug in his heels. Even though he knew no one could hear him above the chanting and foot stomping, he said: "You may insult me but, by God, you are not going to insult the ex-governor of Missouri and I'll be damned if you're going to shout me down. You people asked me here for a speech and you're going to get one. I read all your little signs and you can call me a country bumpkin, a redneck hillbilly all you want. But at least at home we have manners enough not to invite somebody somewhere and then treat them like a dog. Right now I'm proud to be a redneck but I'm no bigot. When I say I'm for everybody in this country, I mean everybody, even all you hippies out there. I feel sorry for you because you don't know better."

He looked down at the front row. "I'm for everybody except for these pea-headed, lily-livered college professors you got sitting down there who have been brainwashing you against your own country.

Filling you full of subversive ideas… egging you on to burn your draft cards and letting you wear the American flag on your behinds." He pointed at the faculty. "No wonder you teach kids; if you tried to push all that anti-American propaganda on grown men you'd get the living tar kicked out of you. I have a message for you. If you don't like it here, I've got me a whole bunch of boys down at the VFW and over at the American Legion just itching to help you move to Russia.

Those Russkies won't put up with your whining and bellyaching for one second. I believe in freedom and individual rights as well as the next man but nobody has the right to live here and do nothing but run us down."

Then he addressed the protesters, who were still marching and chanting at the top of their voices, "Hell no, we won't go," and "Hey hey, how many boys did you kill today?"

"All you people are just delighting the Communists, and when you spit on one soldier or one policeman, you spit on this nation. You're nothing but a bunch of scared little momma's boys who let the others do the fighting for them. A lot of them poor black boys you are so worried about their mommas and daddies don't have the money to send them off dodging the draft. You're the bigots. And if the Communists ever do get over here, these same little pantywaist professors are going to look around for somebody to protect them and there ain't gonna be nobody here; you'll all be up in Canada.

"So chant all your little chants and wave all your little signs and have all your sit-ins but one day when you grow up you're going to be ashamed of yourselves. If you really want to help this country I suggest all you deadhead beatniks get a haircut, take a bath, and go over and pay a visit at the veterans hospital to those who fought so you could wave your little signs." He stopped for breath. The din was continuous. "When I got here today your president informed me I was not going to be presented the usual plaque of appreciation for coming because your so-called college board doesn't approve of me. Well, that's fine, because I don't approve of them. My staff did a little research and I found out that in the past few years you've had Fidel Castro, Nikita Khrushchev, and a member of the Black Panther Party up here and you couldn't wait to give a plaque to all three of these guys, avowed enemies of our government who would destroy your country if they got half a chance. So if that's who's getting the plaques of appreciation around here, then I appreciate not getting one."

He walked off to boos and jeers and catcalls and was rushed out to the car to find its tires slashed and orange paint poured all over it. When they finally made it off campus, riding on the hubcaps, Rodney turned around and gave the protesters the finger and laughed his head off.

When Wendell asked him, "What's so damned funny?" he said, "They're so pig ignorant they don't even know this car belongs to them."

Hamm didn't laugh. He had given a speech that no one had heard. The audience had screamed and stomped their feet and booed the whole time.

But later Hamm said that was all right; he had heard what he had said, and it made him feel better.

When they got back home, the verdict was unanimous. Even he had to admit that the Hamm Sparks appeal had not worked. Still, they thought that was to be the end of it. But a student reporter, anticipating that the speaker might be shouted down, had placed a small tape recorder on the podium that Hamm did not notice. It had recorded every word he said. Later, the student played the tape and typed it up, word for inflammatory word, and printed it in the university newspaper.