A day firmly etched into the mind of every Kent State student. It means different things to many people here. It can be a day of solemn reverence, a period of mourning for those departed before their time. Or a day that "others" spend in tiny circles, holding candles. Lastly, it can be a couple of hours off from classes - nothing more.

I'll admit, to me May 4 meant alt of these. Sure, I've gone to the ceremonies, but you'd never have caught me in a tiny chalk circle at 5 in the morning. And I sure didn't mind having my classes canceled.

Then I became editor of the "May 4" issue of The Burr, and my perspective about the events of that day changed. The more pictures I saw, the more stories and articles I read, the more people I talked with - the more I understood.

The images in the stories and photos were no longer nameless, faceless victims, but people, young men and women, like all of us.

There was no conspiracy, no deep meaning or significance behind the tragedy that left four dead and nine wounded - it was fear.

Fear on the side of those protesting. Fear that their family and friends would be sent off to die in a war they didn't believe in. Fear on the part of the weary National Guard. Young men, most of whom were the same age as the students they fired at, threatened by the hatred and hostility directed toward them.

Many of our readers, myself included, were not even born when the shootings occurred. It is asked why we should continue to remember something that happened so long ago. An age-old philosophy that I tend to believe in says that those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it.

Hopefully, this issue of The Burr will help those interested understand the May 4 tragedy. But, for the masses who feel May 4 should be forgotten, read on. The Spring 1995 Burr is much, much more than just a May 4 issue.

Spring has just returned to Kent State as I write this. Gone are the piles of gray slush that covered the parking lot beside Taylor Hall for so many months. But, as you read this, spring will he in full bloom on campus. The sun may be shining, a light breexe flowing through the trees, a bird chirping in the distance. A beautiful day, much like that Monday, 25 years ago, when four young lives were cut short and a nation was changed forever. Maybe some things shouldn't be forgotten.

Bill Spoonster, Editor