The deaths of six young, militant activists in Boulder a half-century ago — who evidently blew themselves up by accident with time bombs they intended to plant and set off — were of course sad.
Not because they died for a noble cause. They did not.
But because, as with any untimely passing amid the bloom of youth, they likely could have amounted to much more in life. If only these self-styled warriors of that era’s Chicano movement had given themselves a chance to mature, to put their political passions into broader perspective. Instead, they cut their own lives short in a misguided crusade of violence.
Fortunately, the fledgling terrorists — suspected in other local bombings besides the two that took their lives — didn’t wind up harming others. It could have turned out much worse.
All of which could be regarded as no more than a morbidly interesting if obscure page from Colorado history — if today’s political opportunists didn’t insist on turning them into martyrs.
Last week, amid the 50th anniversaries of the May 27 and May 29, 1974 botched bombings, the city of Boulder dedicated a memorial to the culprits. They now are lionized as “Los Seis de Boulder,” by the way. There’s also a memorial to The Boulder Six nearby on the University of Colorado-Boulder campus — in front of the building authorities believe the six had hoped to blow up — and a scholarship at CU has been established in the bombers’ memory.
Yes, really.
That the “Six” put the lives of untold innocent bystanders and passersby at grave risk — presumably, to make some sort of statement about society’s inequities — doesn’t seem to matter. Indeed, only the Six’s incompetence prevented dozens, maybe hundreds of casualties.
Hellbound and Down 