Nancy Fioritto, Oral History

 

Recorded: December 6, 2019

Interviewed by Kathleen Siebert Medicus

Transcribed by the Kent State University Research & Evaluation Bureau

 

[Interviewer]: This is Kathleen Siebert Medicus speaking on Friday, December 6, 2019, in Beachwood, Ohio, as part of the May 4 Kent State Shootings Oral History Project. Could you please state your name for the recording?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Nancy Fioritto.

 

[Interviewer]: Thank you, Nancy. Thanks so much for agreeing to meet with me today and share your stories and memories. I’d like to begin with just brief information about your background. Could you tell us a little bit about where you were born, where you grew up?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Thank you, certainly. I was born here in Cleveland. Was born in 1947, shortly after the end of World War II after my father came back from service in the Navy. My parents were both born in Italy and immigrated here when they were young. My mother came on my grandmother’s passport, so she may have been about six years old. And my dad came on my grandfather’s passport, he came here when he was about fifteen years old. And they came here from the same village at different times. They didn’t know each other, but they then met here in Cleveland as—which isn’t unusual for, especially for immigrants at the time, where they—where big blocks of populations of immigrants would move together in groups. And they married here. We lived here in an Italian neighborhood in Cleveland for most of my childhood until my teen years when we moved out into the suburbs, which was also part of the trend at the time. Still, my parents stayed pretty traditional and, at the same time, they Americanized us.

 

As I mentioned, I mentioned to you prior to turning on the mic, my dad wanted to make sure that all of his children got college educations. That’s not usual, that wasn’t usual for my peers at the time. And as it turned out, all three of us, I have an older sister, five years older, and a younger sister, ten years younger, and all three of us have, not only have bachelor’s degrees, but also we have master’s degrees and I have a law degree as well. So, my father just probably accomplished his dream for us. And we’re happy about that. We wouldn’t have made, given the culture that we came from, which was a traditional culture where families were supposed to sort of stay glommed together, my father did not impress that on us so much. Not that he didn’t miss us, but he didn’t impress that on us so much. And that gave us a chance to spread our wings.

 

[Interviewer]: Good for him.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: It was.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:03:06] When—you were a student at Kent State University, when did you first come to Kent State?

 

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: I came to Kent in 19—well, I came to Kent actually, when I decided to enroll in Kent and then got accepted. So, what happened at that time is, at the time, I went to an all-girls Catholic high school, Regina High School, which is no longer operating right now, run by Notre Dame nuns. The school itself is also on the campus of Notre Dame College here in Cleveland. The nuns at the time, at least at the time, I’m not sure now, the nuns at the time were semi-cloistered and pretty strict. So, we didn’t really get a lot of exposure to much outside the school. We never—we really didn’t have mixed dances, that sort of thing. On the other hand, we did have a rigorous college-prep education. I wasn’t the—I was probably a middle-range student for reasons that I won’t go into now, but I was. Part of the problem of having gone to Regina is that, at the time, the times were changing. And, of course, the nuns weren’t able to acknowledge, very well, that the times were changing and the social, even the social fabric was changing. I was in eleventh grade when President Kennedy was assassinated. And there also were—a lot of uprisings were happening and the human rights movements were just beginning, and it was rubbing off—and also we wanted more freedom. We kind of knew that, and we wanted more freedom and exposure to the world, and the nuns were not capable of that. And at the same time, my parents weren’t actually hip to that either.

 

I remember one day, when I got accepted to Kent, and one day—from time to time, I would go visit the nuns when I came home for weekends or on vacations. I can remember one evening I stopped by there to probably see my English teacher, my old English teacher, and the nuns were actually washing the floor. So, they were not only teaching during the day, but they were actually maintaining that building at night and they slept there, their convent was I think on the third floor or the second floor of the new wing, and there they were cleaning it, and that was quite an eye-opener for me.

 

But I was intended to—I didn’t have stellar grades, and my mother thought that I would move over to Notre Dame College, which again, was run by the Notre Dame sisters. And there was no way in my mind, she didn’t know it, but there was no way in my mind that I would do that. I didn’t know what I would do. My father had suggested, at the time when I was in high school that I attend—take the secretarial courses, and so having done that in a college-prep school, put me even further away from the popular students and the students that got attention by the nuns, because maybe there was maybe ten percent of my class were taking typing and shorthand and bookkeeping.

 

That really, though, he was very smart that way. Those classes really prepared me a lot for what came ahead. And also I still managed to have the credits to get into college. So, I started poking around knowing that I did not want Notre Dame, and the one college I saw that would take me is Kent. I got a brochure and I brought it home and I took it straight to my dad. Somehow, I found a brochure, don’t remember how I did this. And I took it to my father, and I said to my dad, “This is where I would like to go to college.” Well, just a few weeks before that, I hadn’t been even thinking about getting accepted to college because of these secretarial courses I had been taking, and my mom had approached me with word from my father, which was not unusual in our family. “Nancy, your father said that he would like to see you go to college.” This was not unusual in my family. And I said, “All right, thank you, Mom.” And so, I—but I did not have—my mother was not my intermediary for this one. And he said, “All right, if that’s what you want. I can only, you know I can—” he said, “You know I cannot tell you what to do, I can’t tell you how to do it, I can’t tell you how to do it, but you can do it if this is what you choose.” And so, the first time I went to Kent was during student orientation. And that would have been in 1965, just before fall, just before the fall semester.

 

Brought my mother and then another girlfriend and her mother came along with me, because she’s also from the same village in Italy, also had parents not—who were born here, but were also sort of friends with my family. And I think that my influence helped my friend, my girlfriend, get in there too. So, the four of us came to campus and visited it for the first time.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:09:09] What were your first impressions? Was it an expanded world compared to your high school as you hoped?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Well, I was just—oh yeah. I mean, I was always had a kind of wanderlust as a kid. I didn’t spend, especially as a teenager, I didn’t like to spend a lot of time at home. It was kind of boring in the sense that, not that I didn’t love my family and that some of what we did wasn’t—we did a lot of cooking together, a lot of cooking together. And reading. But for some reason, I just felt that I wanted to see, I wanted more, and I was often—my sister would stop pummeling me and bullying me—so I would sort of leave. And I might go to a neighbor, I might go—I’d go to a neighbor, I’d go up to see my friend, the one who came to college with me. Of course, I had a job, I had a job at the local library, which I could walk to. I was a page for fifty cents an hour. I managed that.  So, being at Kent was just, you know, I was there despite. I don’t care what I found, you know? It was—I was happy to explore it, and I was going to take it on. I didn’t have a lot of confidence as a student at the time, but I knew that this was an opportunity. And I didn’t want my mom’s fear of my being there to invade my thinking. So, I probably just had made my decision before I even got there.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:10:57] So you were living on campus, I’m wondering whether you were starting to see protests as time went on from ’65 to ’66?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Well at the time, no. When I was starting this—I’m sorry I interrupted you. But what at the time—again, I was a baby-boomer, and so the population on Kent’s campus, I think, I know the population in our dorm tripled. We had nine hundred girls. You know, we had nine hundred girls, so there were three girls to a room where there should have been two. And, I was, for the first time in my life, I had—my first roommate was Ruth [Battle], an African American woman from the Niles area somewhere in Niles/Youngstown. And then my other roommate was Kathy, Kathy Riley from Girard, Pennsylvania. She was a Methodist. She was a Methodist, small-town girl. And then, Ruth, of course, was kind of quiet. I think that we overwhelmed her. But she didn’t really socialize with us, and went home on the weekends, I think she may have had a boyfriend at the—but she didn’t stay. And then there was myself. So, what I was exposed to was not all the turmoil at the time, although that soon came, but what I was exposed to was just the wide variety of us, and the fact that there were girls who dated and had sex at the age of nineteen or twenty, and there just was a liberal feel about things that I had to kind of, you know, get my arms around. At the same time, we had a dorm mother, at the same time. And she was just, she was older and used a hearing aid. I’m trying to remember her name and I can’t. But she was so, at the time, out of place. With all of the changes, the social changes going on, and also probably the size of the dorm, she was so out of place with us being there, because we were quite irreverent. You know, we didn’t really—we didn’t stand on formalities. I remember that.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:13:31] There were curfews, I’m sure.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: And we had curfews, yeah. One day my father drove me back to Kent, my mother, my father drove me back to Kent for a weekend, and I was pulling into the Terrace, we were pulling into the Terrace Hall parking lot and it was just about, the dorms were just about ready to shut down and all of the couples were standing in the vestibule. I’d have to squeeze through them, and they were all necking good night. And my mother said, “Benny,” she said, “Look at this!” And my father says, “Oh, Mary.” He said, “You look at this. Look up there, it’s a jail. This is the prison.” And I said, “Goodbye, Mom, goodbye, Dad.” And I left. So, he knew, my dad knew. He knew the constraints.

 

[Interviewer]: Funny story.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: He knew the constraints and he was always, I just loved him for what he was able to take—have us take on and push us out there even though he—and he had his own experiences. He had a lot of experiences being here in America. His father had abandoned him. So, he went back, my grandfather did not stay in America. He wanted to leave because they came here right at the great crash, the Depression. And my grandfather got scared and he said, “We’re going back to Italy.” And my father and he had a falling-out and my father said, “No.” And so, at fifteen, he was here pretty much on his own. So, he had learned a lot, but definitely he knew one thing, he didn’t want to go back to Italy. And, definitely, I knew I one thing, I did not want to go to Notre Dame College.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:15:22] From here, would you like to talk about when, maybe, in the next couple years during your undergrad experience, when things were becoming more tumultuous on campus with protests, et cetera?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Pretty much right away, but very subtly. You know, I majored in elementary education when I was first signed up there. And that was, for me, just a matter of confidence. I didn’t really have much confidence in my abilities to succeed. Not to say that elementary education is not an honorable field, but it was a default for me because I always wanted to be a writer. I always wanted to be a writer but there wasn’t, I just didn’t have the confidence, the space, the mental space to do it. Anyway, so, and Kent had been a normal school before it became a university and I think I got one of the instructors, one of the teachers left over from the normal school, and I don’t remember her name but when we were in class, she gave us the rules and she said, and I asked a question when we were in class, and I asked her if we could wear pants to class. I don’t even think I asked her if we could wear jeans to class, but—

 

[Interviewer]: Just slacks?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Just slacks. I probably said slacks. And she said, “Certainly you can.” She talked like that. “Certainly, you can, but you must wear a skirt over them. You can wear, but you can wear slacks or trousers to school, to class here. If you don’t, you will be lowered one grade.”

 

And I said, to myself, Right. And I said, Okay. So, I did go to class, I must have had some skirts with me, I must have had some skirts with me, I guess. But one day, I think when I came to take the final or one of the tests, I came in with blue jeans on, I did wear slacks to class or jeans, I probably didn’t have slacks, but I did wear jeans. And nothing was said, took the test, got an A on it, got an A in the course, grades come up: B. I saw that B and I went to the phone and I called my dad, you know we didn’t, I went to the phone on campus, payphone or something, and I called my dad and I said, I don’t want this major anymore. And I just—he said, “Well, that’s okay, as long as you stay in education.” And my heart sank, and I said, “Okay, Dad.” So, I switched over to secondary education, with an English minor, an English specialty. So that’s how I ended up as a secondary education major. Never used it. I did my student teaching, I got my degree, and never used it as a secondary education teacher.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:18:29] Were you allowed to wear blue jeans to those classes without penalty?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Nobody said no. Yes, I got my way there. I certainly got to wear what I wanted to class, which was jeans, even to the Newman Center, I was able to wear jeans. So, that was very bizarre. But I knew on one level that this woman was, for some reason, I instinctively knew that she was from the normal college and I was stuck, but there was no—

 

[Interviewer]: She had been there a long time, yeah.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: —there was no way, there was no way I was going to have that experience after having left the nuns. So, is that political? I don’t know, I mean, I don’t know.

 

[Interviewer]: That’s a cultural freedom statement, maybe, or a, yeah. It’s kind of a protest.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: And it leads there. It kind of leads one there. So, after that, we—I was in the dorm for two years, in Terrace Hall. And Ruth had left. I don’t remember, I would assume she finished school, I would assume she finished her degree, I’m not sure. But we got another roommate, her name was Shirley Cicchillo from Youngstown. So, she was not—she was bent on marrying, she was bent on marrying, but not anybody on campus, necessarily. I’m not sure why. She was very bright but she was also at a stage in her life where she really just—she wanted a boyfriend. And had one coming up from Youngstown, where she lived. But, while we were on—my friend Laura and I, the one that came to—we did not, we never lived together but we always lived in the same dorm, or else we—

 

[Interviewer]: Oh, your friend from Cleveland?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yes, my friend from Cleveland. We lived in the same dorm, Laura Silvestro. And, we had—the boys we knew that we had dated from the neighborhood, what we would call the neighborhood in Cleveland, ended up—one of them ended up getting drafted. And they came to find us at Kent. And they were pretty drunk. And they weren’t—they were the guys that were going to end up in ‘Nam. They were not the protesters of the war. They were going over, I don’t know if, I don’t think Ralph, my friend, I don’t think he was drafted but I know Joe was. I know Joe was, because I can tell you that later on, I got pictures—he sent us pictures from ‘Nam, and he sent us pictures of ears that he had cut off from, from the North Vietnamese. And—

 

[Interviewer]: We can pause anytime.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: —we’re all on the same side. The thing is that we, we were growing into hippie-hood and developing this sensibility about how the war was wrong, but we weren’t over there fighting it. And so, we came from working—working class kids, and so a lot of the boys in our class ended up, the ones that I know, I’m generalizing now, so I can’t say for sure, some went to college but most of them didn’t. But Joe ended up there. And that was one of the, you know, that was an exposure for me.

 

We then, because he came to class and he was pretty drunk—came to Kent’s campus to find us, he was kind of out of, he and Ralph were kind of out of place. Joe had a car, he was part of the family business. And he was drunk and we had to deal with him, and I think Laura and I ran out of the dorm past curfew to try to calm them down. And I think we got, somehow, the house mother—somehow we got cited for it, if I remember correctly. Yeah.

 

[Interviewer]: Sure, right. And this was before he had to leave, to join?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: This was before he had to leave, yeah. And this was way before, you know, obviously before the photographs came. [00:23:35]

 

So the SDS started to work its way up on campus and I didn’t join it but I did, you know, I’d go to the Student Union from time to time and sit there and talk to people. You couldn’t avoid it. I mean, unless, you really would have to work hard to avoid anything around us. Laura’s roommate, Linda, was dating somebody who was trying to avoid the draft, and I don’t think he was here. He wasn’t going to college. I don’t remember now. And I remember, once I was in one of my classes, I think it might have been, I’m trying to remember the course it was and I honestly don’t remember, but I do remember the SDS, some SDS kids coming in with masks on their faces and running up to each of us at our desks and looking at us, four inches from my face saying, “What are you going to do about the war in Vietnam?” And going from desk to desk to desk, “What are you going,” with masks on, “What are you going to do about the war? What are you going to do?” I was upset that someone was in my face, not that there was something to do about the war. So, it was always, it was always, it was in the air. It was in the air.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:25:03] Was, at this point, was your family aware that things like that were happening in your classes? Or they must have seen on the news there were protests? Were they concerned at that point?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: They knew I was, just probably from the way I looked at the time. I never was radical. I mean, for my family, I was considered crazy, but not, I was never radical. The reason I say this is because I also struggled with being Catholic and my faith. And so, I joined the—I was active in the Newman Club, in the Newman Center. Actually, that’s where I met my husband. So, there were two sides to me, not two sides, but there’s two aspects going on, where I would, I spent time going to the Newman Center, hanging out, meeting people there, and also—and the priest, talking to the priest there. And I actually, I took my mother and my grandmother to meet the priest, I thought they, my mother started to come to campus to visit me on special occasions, because my grandmother liked the ride. And so, they, this is all before the highway set in here, and so the ride was long and I remember once I brought my—there would be homecoming parade, not for which I would for one moment have marched in that parade by that time, but I knew my grandmother loved it because she liked seeing the roses and the flowers on the floats and the, so—

 

[Interviewer]: The band.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: The band, and we, they’d come, we put a blanket out on the lawn behind Terrace Hall and up Terrace Drive, they’d make their way up Terrace Drive, and poor Mom and my grandmother. But she was so happy to see all that, that why not? She was such a great lady, my grandmother. So, my politics were definitely anti-establishment in terms of sorority, fraternity. I was still sort of struggling with my faith. But I brought my grandmother and another aunt, her name was Silvia DiFranco to meet the priests there, Father Palladino I think his name was, something like that. I have a picture of him I could send it to you. And I’ll never forget, I brought them. Now, Silvia was a friend of my mom’s and an aunt, I suppose, in a way, somewhere along the line, and she was, there’s no question, there’d be no question if you were to have met her that she was right off the boat. And, when I took her and my mother to visit the priest, and they left, they teased me about her. These guys, this guy, and one of them’s Italian.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:28:07] The priests teased you?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah, “How’s your aunt Silvia?” She had a babushka on, and she was sort of, she was kind of, she humbled herself in front of these guys. And they, you know—she didn’t know them, she didn’t know them the way I knew them.

 

[Interviewer]: Were they young men, the priests?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: They were youngish men, and who knows why they got outposted to the Newman Center, that’s the other thing. It’s like, who knows what they were doing there to begin with. So, but we, I spent a good amount of time there. And also, it was a way to socialize and it was safe for me, given—it was safe for me. I kind of needed that, given some incidents in my childhood.

 

So, I had that, and then, but then the things started to foment on campus, as I recall. But I could pick and choose, I was definitely aware of the war, definitely aware of the Paris Peace Talks going on. Had friends, you know, Joe Orlando was just being shipped out. And, so, yeah. It was there. But it didn’t impede my education to any great degree. It’s not like I was so—I mean I had to go do a march and so I couldn’t be in school for a week—it was never to that extent. And I want to emphasize, maybe not now, that a lot of good that came out of my experience at Kent, despite the awful thing that happened on May 4.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:29:51] Do you—what was your sense of how local community members in the town of Kent, in the City of Kent, perceived the students? Did you have any sense of that when you went downtown, or when you ventured off campus? Did you feel a good rapport?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah, I’m thinking.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: No, not until—

 

[Interviewer]: Take your time.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: I’m thinking, because I stayed at Kent after I graduated and got married. I didn’t want to go home. I just simply did not. And this was even before the shootings. As I mentioned to you, my husband was working at Aurora, teaching at Aurora High School. And so, he’d be closer to Aurora from—there was no reason for me to go back to Cleveland because I was offered a job teaching junior high where I student taught at Garfield Heights High, Garfield Heights Junior High. That was a trip. And I wasn’t, I knew I wasn’t going to do that. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I was not going to do that, and perhaps I was using my marriage as a reason—not perhaps, not perhaps—as a reason to just be able to direct my own life, to take on the trajectory of my own life, without having to feel guilty about abandoning or leaving my parents, who were very good people, but they also were people who benefitted from us helping them out from time to time.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:31:33] What year were you married and graduated?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: I got married January 30, 1970. And actually, I was still at—where was I? Oh, I must have moved home, I think I moved home. I had to move home, are you kidding me? And so, I—so we didn’t live together. And so, I—how did I do this? I had a wedding—I decided to have my wedding dress made. And so, I found a seamstress in Ravenna, a Swiss woman, she was Swiss. And I knew what I wanted for a dress and I didn’t want a traditional—by now I was, everything was non-traditional—and I did not want a traditional dress. So, I bought some material, I bought fabric, this was a January wedding, so I bought some heavy, probably satin, fabric and then I bought some heavy lace, and took it over to the seamstress, whose name I don’t remember now, but she was really sweet. And I gave her a picture of what I want—or I described what I wanted. And what I wanted was a—what were those dresses called at the time with no waist? I just wanted a waist-less—

 

[Interviewer]: Like a muumuu?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Like a muumuu. It was like a muumuu—

 

[Interviewer]: Like A, or an A-line dress?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: —but it wasn’t full of a lot of cloth, it went straight down. And I didn’t want a veil, either. I didn’t want a veil, so I wanted a hood. And I wanted like a placket or some, a little bit of train, wouldn’t even call it a train, but I wanted it going down behind the hood so I could just tie the hood under my chin. And so, she worked with me, and it was really a pretty dress. When my mother saw it, because I didn’t show it to her, I was afraid to show it to her, she started to cry. And she said, “What are we going to tell everybody? What’s wrong with you?” Something to that effect. She wouldn’t say it that directly because Miss Benedict taught her, her English teacher taught her not to be confrontational. Her second-grade teacher, which I did not refer to this in my recording. But she just looked at it and was just beside herself and didn’t understand what I was doing. And then, I just said—I didn’t say anything, because I was getting married in a couple days. Nothing she could do about it.

 

My older sister who loved to sew was home, and she was going to be my maid of honor, she was my maid of honor. The dresses I had picked for them were brown plaid, which, so, and it was wintertime. So, my dress was kind of like an ivory and then those dresses were, and I didn’t want, I didn’t want this wedding. I told my father I did not want this, I didn’t want this wedding. He didn’t realize it until the very end, last minute, that I didn’t want. I wanted to go to this bar, this piano bar in Pepper Pike called the Lion and the Lamb, I wanted to have thirty people there at the most. His family, my family, a couple of good friends, and that’s, in my brain, what I wanted. And when he heard that, I never saw him get so angry, ever, at me. And he just exploded and said, “You can’t do that.” I saw the veins pop out on his neck. He says, “Well, you can’t do this. I have friends. I have people here in town, and you’re going to have to have a wedding.” And I said, “I don’t want one like my older sister’s.” She had one of these all-day weddings, where you got up and then you took a nap and then you did something else and you took another nap. I don’t want to do that. But I did. I had about two hundred people, I think, I invited to this wedding, somehow or another, and that was my wedding dress. And so, it was actually, the way to describe it is that it was—I looked like a Franciscan monk. I loved it. I loved it. So, my mom at the morning of my wedding, my mother went, you know, and my sister, everybody took off to church, and traditionally my father’s supposed to take me. And so, my dad was waiting on the first floor for me to come down. I came down in this dress and he said, “You look really nice, Nancy.” That was my dad. So, the wedding dress is at the Kent Museum, the fashion museum, they have it. So, when I’m long gone. I brought my mother’s wedding dress when we were cleaning out the closet, and I brought my wedding dress, not my sister’s, she gave it to her daughter to wear, but her daughter didn’t wear it. And they didn’t want my mother’s dress. They said that too many—everybody’s cleaning out their closets, all the baby boomers, and they’ve had a lot of dresses like that, and maybe the Cleveland Historical Society wants it. They didn’t want it. But they wanted my dress.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:37:04] They did want your 1970 counterculture wedding dress.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: They wanted to my dress, and I wrote a letter to describe a little bit of what had happened, and they kept the letter there, too. And so, my dress is over there, archived somewhere. But I have to tell you, my mother’s dress was on display last year in the “Fashions of the Forties” [editor’s clarification: an exhibition held at the Kent State Museum, 2017-2018]. So, one of the dresses on display there was my mother’s dress. There were three wedding dresses, along with Catherine Hepburn’s clothes that were in this display as well. And serendipitously, her dress was there and actually I took pictures of us, my sister and I, going there. And they were displaying a, I think for lack of a better word, a working-class woman’s dress, a society woman’s dress, and then a dress that was made by a soldier in Japan for his wife. He tried to describe what it looked like, and it looked like it was a dress made in Japan. So, it was really interesting.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:38:17] So you were graduated and you had this wedding. Made your family happy by having the big wedding with your counterculture dress. And then you moved to Kent with your husband.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Moved into Whitehall Apartments at Kent. And then that’s where—and actually, I was fine as a married woman in town, I was fine. Because I was a married woman, so I would go to town, and I’d buy meat, there was a butcher store there and there were grocery stores there. I wasn’t, you know, a flaming hippie by any stretch of the imagination, at least at the time. It was fine. And so, I did not get a sense that the townies were—at least, me, at least when it came to my interaction with them—somehow not wanting me around. And then, as I said, my husband was teaching and so he would—I did not get that sense.

 

[Interviewer]: Yeah. Well, and at that point, you were no longer a full-time student at Kent State at least. And you were a resident of the city.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: No, no. But, while I was at Whitehall, I had a call from a friend, Licia Colombi and Lucia Colombi  were students at Kent State also, and they were in the theater department, they were active theater majors at Kent State, and they were friends of mine from Regina, they were a year younger than I. And, they ended up, after graduation, doing certain things but finally opening up the Ensemble Theatre here in Cleveland. And they’re now one of the—Lucia Colombi’s daughter is now running Ensemble Theatre. And, I got a call from my friend, Licia, who said that her cousin is coming to Cleveland, would I mind putting him up at my apartment, and he’s coming to Cleveland. He was in the war. And just let him settle in and I’ll-tell-you-more-later kind of thing. And so, I said no problem. I was substitute teaching in Aurora, I think at the time, and so I left the apartment open for him, you know, where he could get in, and I knew I was going to—I expected to find him when I got home.

 

And, what I found is that he was wounded, he had been wounded, and he was a multiple amputee. He had one of his—I think he lost a hand, and I know a leg, for sure. And I walked in—and handsome guy, I mean really nice guy, and he had been—because of his war wounds, he could no longer live in Cleveland because of the weather and he got situated in Arizona. And he came, and he had this beautiful red Mustang convertible, this fancy car. And I looked at this, it’s parked in front of my apartment, and I look at it, and I go in, and I found him on the floor, drunk. And he had found some jug wine I had under the cupboard in the kitchen, and he just was there drinking it. And, he had lost his limbs in Vietnam. And I looked at him, and I wondered, however was he going to function again? I mean he was driving a car, it got outfitted for his disability. He was drunk, didn’t know how he was going to live his life. Yeah.

 

So, was the war very far away from me? Not really. Not really. No. No. But again, I was healthy, I was there. He was the one, he was the one who had to endure that. I just, after he left, I called Licia, and just cried, and just said, “What happened? I hope I treated him well. I hope he’s okay.” I probably have his name somewhere in one of my journals, not here. I should have prepared better.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:43:20] Did he stay with you very long, for a while? A few days?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: No, not very long. He just was not in a mental state. Maybe a night, maybe two.

 

[Interviewer]: Yeah, how does someone pull their life back together after that?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: How did he? And this was fifty years ago, so, I mean, right? I don’t know that we’re any better at rehabilitation. Oh, we are, if that’s what you want to, if we actually have to experience that. If we have to send people off to get their limbs blown off. It’s fair to say that we’re better at that for anybody who’s an amputee.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:44:04] What happened to your friend, Joe Orlando? Did he come back?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: No, I lost touch with Joe. He, you know, he came back, I don’t really know what his life was like after he came back. He was dating Laura at the time, and he’s married—neither Laura nor I were dating the same guys. We got involved with guys on campus. And Joe, you know, he has a family somewhere here in town, yeah.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:44:31] Do you want to move next to your experiences—you were living right off campus, later in 1970, as we get closer to the time of the shootings, April?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah, what happened with there is that we—the campus did rile up, there is no question about it, that you could not miss all the protests going on on campus. And I can remember, I was there, probably every night except—and day—except for the morning of the shootings, I was not there. And I remember going up to—we could walk easily from Whitehall Apartments up to the main campus here. And I remember going to—by the Speech building, the Speech and Drama Building. I had minored in speech and drama, here [referring to a point on a map]. And there was a tree. There was a big, big tree, and the protestors set it on fire. When I saw that happening, I said, I knew, I knew that this is not going to be easy. This was serious business. So, this was probably, let’s see, what day was—May 4 was a Sunday, was it?

 

[Interviewer]: It was a Monday.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Monday. And so, this might have been Saturday. It was a couple of days before, so things started really revving up on campus, and there were lots of—there were these pockets of apparently planned activities going on. And I was, my husband and I had gone up to—and we just stood there watching it and we were standing around this tree, watching it getting burned to the ground. So now, there’s a fire on campus, and maybe that’s what I remember more than the Nazi building having—ROTC—Nazi! The ROTC Building having been burned down.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:46:36] Was that during the daytime? The burning tree?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: No, it was in the evening.

 

[Interviewer]: It was in the evening, okay.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yep. And then—

 

[Interviewer]: Was there a big crowd there?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah, there was a crowd starting to mill around. I don’t think any of us, you know—it was an odd, independent—I don’t remember if there was a large crowd, but it doesn’t seem as if there was. I think that the protests were starting to rev up at the time. So, it was probably two days prior to the shootings on Monday.

 

I remember walking by and I remember the National Guard being posted, and students hanging out there. Some students hanging out. But most—and there was some agitation, but you could really feel the tension. Really feel the tension. And at one point, I remember, and I don’t know if it’s from what I read or from what I saw, I remember that a daisy had been put in the rifle barrel of one of the National Guard. And I was able to walk up to where the National Guard, you know, the line—the formation that had been posted. I just remember being able to get, really, pretty close to them. And not really knowing what to make of it, but certainly not to think that what to make of it was that they were going to use—that they were going to actually use it on the students. I wasn’t in the protests, I wasn’t going to class, but I did go and check it out to see what was happening. And like I said, you could see tension on the part of the protestors. And there was, I may have gone twice to check it out, but I know that, as the time went on, that there was this really—the air was really thick with this silence and tension, there wasn’t a lot of interplay between the Guards and the students and the protestors. And not all the protestors were students. But they were definitely set to protest. That’s what I remember.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:49:08] Do you remember where that took place, that line of Guard that you approached and got fairly close?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah, I think they were—where’s Taylor Hall? So, they were here [referring to a point on a map].

 

[Interviewer]: Okay, so they were near The Commons.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: They were right, they were here.

 

[Interviewer]: And that was on Monday?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: And then where is the—there’s Terrace, oh, there’s the library, so this is the entrance [referring to points on a map]. Okay.

 

[Interviewer]: Correct.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: I remember that. So, I went home to visit my parents for some reason, don’t remember exactly why, but that was the morning of the shootings, so I wasn’t there for that. But I remember coming back right away. I think more telling for me and my experience is that we were living here, we were now placed under Martial Law. A tank had moved here, and I don’t remember, wherever the medallion is, here.

 

[Interviewer]: Right at the front of, front campus.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: I remember the army tank here, and I don’t remember if it was there all the time or just when the orders occurred to go, you know, to shoot. But I do remember that when that occurred and we were placed under Martial Law, that was by the afternoon because Carlo, my husband, called me and said that he couldn’t get home. The roads were blocked. So, whatever the highway from Aurora, I don’t know if it was 46 [editor’s clarification: probably State Route 43] or however he, whatever ride he took home from Aurora, he couldn’t get in, and we didn’t have cell phones at the time. And finally, they let him in. There was a checkpoint, checkpoints were set up just like any other war zone. And then he had to explain to somebody that he lived here. Then it was—we were declared under Martial Law. And I remember throwing the garbage out, going outside and helicopters were flying above, and I remember going outside and throwing out the garbage and a spotlight hit on me from above. So, I had the experience of a kind of military, Martial Law.

 

[Interviewer]: Yeah, in your apartment complex.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:51:56] Were there—do you remember, was there a Guard presence near your residence? Were they stationed just across Summit, or close to where you lived?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: I don’t remember that.

 

[Interviewer]: You don’t remember that, okay.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: No, I don’t remember that. I just remember when this terrible pall fell over everything and it was hard to wrap your heads around it. It was really hard to wrap your heads around it.

 

I’m trying to put together some—there, you know, this was happening, this kind of thing was happening, not the shootings, but the aggressive protesting was happening at the Chicago, the Democratic National Convention, there were issues going on. At the same time there were shootings going on, I believe at Ole Miss, that didn’t get the same kind of press that we got. And there were protests—

 

[Interviewer]: Oh, at Jackson State?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Jackson State, that’s the one. And Columbia and Berkeley, there’s a lot of stuff going on, there was no question about it. And there was Woodstock. By that time, when I figured out how things had happened to the extent that we could, what we knew is that Governor Rhodes ordered—allowed the—actually somehow ordered the shootings. And I hated him for it. So, that was in May and, at that time, my husband wanted to—said he wanted to get another job. He wanted to leave Aurora, I think, at least that’s what he said. And he got a job in Vermont. So, he got a job in Vermont at Castleton State College, this town of three hundred. And so, we moved our stuff, all this stuff, I had set up household. And we got a Ryder truck and we moved our stuff out to Vermont. And rented the top floor of a farmhouse that was near the campus. And he was going to teach business education, I believe. And he was doing student-teacher supervising and I was going to somehow get a job, or write, or I don’t know what was in my—you know, what my fantasies were at the time.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:54:54] And that was the summer of ‘70?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: And that was, we moved by the end of summer. We moved, so let’s say the shootings happened in May, we were gone. And I probably was more vociferous about this stuff than he was. But I don’t know, I can’t answer for him. I’ve been divorced from him for a long time. When did we get—I was married to him for twenty-five years, so when did I get divorced, ’95?

 

So, we moved to Vermont, but I didn’t tell my parents. And I just called them up to say that we were in Vermont and that I wasn’t coming home. That’s the only way I could separate myself from my family. And so that was a rough one. That was rough on them, I know it. But I had to, I had to separate myself from my family. If I wanted to do things I wanted, I felt that I wanted to do. And so, we stayed there two years. And then he got accepted at Duke University. He wanted to get his doctorate degree in education. So, one of the places he got accepted was Duke and after two years, then, we moved to Durham, North Carolina.

 

So, while I was in Vermont, one of the things we did before going to Vermont, I remember, was we went to the march on Washington. And after the shootings occurred and after—Vic was the gentleman, the wounded warrior that stayed at my apartment. And after I saw him, and the shootings, I felt like I wanted to do something, and so we got in a car, Carlo and I—somehow, and I try to remember this, we drove down to Washington for the march. And there was just a stream of us going down, taking the highway. It was just car-to-car, bumper to bumper going down, I think it was on your way to, 90? Forgot the route, 70, 77,  71, I don’t remember, but going into Washington. And even going into Washington, we were body-to-body. And that was the march where President Nixon had put—buses were lined up nose-to-bumper, nose-to-bumper, nose-to-bumper all the way around the White House at the time. You know, this was years ago.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:57:36] As a barricade.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: And we were there to protest the war. But, we did protest the war. That war did end. It did end. And it ended, I believe, for several reasons. Number one: we protested it. Number two: the parents started to now—not mine—but the parents of children in the country, they didn’t want the war. And then of course, all of Nixon’s—I don’t know if it was Lyndon Johnson or Nixon who bombed Cambodia. Whoever bombed Cambodia, whether it was Nixon or Johnson, let me think.

 

[Interviewer]: [00:58:23] Nixon announced the invasion into Cambodia right before the Kent State Shootings.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah. So, all of that happening, you know, the protests really pertained to the war and the draft, of course, and all of that. But what had happened is that in my brain and my sensibility told me we ended the war. And so, then we moved to Vermont, which was kind of an outpost for liberals and hippies. I still wouldn’t consider myself a hippie, but definitely someone who was marked by the era and the stuff happening and wanted an alternative lifestyle, and just needed to get away from all the turmoil that was happening in Ohio, and I just left. And called my parents up and said, “I’m not coming home. My husband got a job but I’m a married woman, you can’t tell me what to do,” more or less.

 

So, I got my master’s degree while we were in Vermont. I couldn’t find a job. I started applying for jobs and I applied for a job, I think, at this place called Mt. Saint Joseph Academy. And I got a job offer. It was run by nuns. But I got a job offer to work in the drama department, I was thrilled to teach theater and drama, you know, it was my minor. And I sent them my transcripts from Kent, and I got a letter back from the nun, the president, I think, was a nun, and she asked, she said, “I see that,” it was just a short note, and it said, “I see that you graduated from Kent State University, would you please send us a statement of your political beliefs?” So, I looked at that letter, and I said, What do I do now? I said, Why am I being asked this? And I wouldn’t do it. And I didn’t write back. And I don’t believe I wrote back and they didn’t contact me again and I didn’t get another job in Vermont. The jobs were hard to come by. And that was a blow. But I had to stand my ground, I felt, at the time.

 

So, then what I did instead of working, not to my husband’s pleasure, was to go and get a master’s degree, at St. Michael’s College in Winooski, near Burlington, which was nice. I mean it was a good experience.

 

And then we moved to Duke—we moved to Durham—and I was a dorm counselor there. And that’s how we survived, that’s how we managed to pay our tuition and sort of get out of school debt-free. And even Chapel Hill, at the time, Chapel Hill, North Carolina, at the time was pretty alternative. You wouldn’t see it today. Today, Chapel Hill is lined with a lot of upscale chain stores and restaurants. But at the time, I became friends with a couple that sold clothes from Guatemala, and the husband belonged to the—he was a Zionist when he was living in Israel and he joined the Communist Party in Chapel Hill. And so, when I’d go to their house, to their place, somebody would be strumming the guitar and singing, you know, Arlo Guthrie songs. And so, there was still, at the time during the Seventies, a lot of coming to terms with the ending of the war. And not too much was spoken—I didn’t talk about Kent, I don’t think I did anyway. It didn’t start really boiling up in me until maybe twenty years later.

 

But, yeah, the Women’s Movement was going on—a lot of exciting things were happening—the Women’s Movement, Our Bodies Ourselves, The Whole Earth Catalog. All of that was part of, you know, my sensibility. And there was, at Kent, I wanted to make sure that I record that a lot of the same was happening, at least in what I looked for, I found at Kent, the alternative school, the University School, School Without Walls was part of my curriculum and it was innovative. There was innovation going on at the time. And Kent exposed me to—poets were brought on campus. John Ciardi came to campus. And some other poets, that I’d have to pull that out of my head right now.

 

[Interviewer]: [01:03:40] I know Allen Ginsberg came at some point. Maybe later. Maybe after you.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yes. Maybe after me. I think my sister saw Ginsberg at her campus. The poet with the one eye?

 

[Interviewer]: Oh, I don’t know who that is.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Anyway, so there’s a couple poets and hopefully, maybe I’ll remember them. But I was so taken by the fact that John Ciardi was there because he’s Italian. He came from Italian parents, and there I was, and there would be panel discussions in the library, and we’d be invited. So, I had exposure, and I actually was given permission to direct a play, and so I actually put a play on in the experimental theater room at the Speech and Drama Building. It was Aria Da Capo with my friends, my roommates Shirley and Laura, and we all put this play on. I have pictures of that by the way, I could send you.

 

[Interviewer]: [01:04:40] Was that connected with the University School?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: I just did it on my own.

 

[Interviewer]: Or that was your friends, something to do on your own?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Just an idea I had and I loved drama and I was minoring in it and I just asked if I—I was in the drama club in high school—but I asked if I could do it, and everybody went along with it. Just kind of the way I was. So, I liked the exposure, I just didn’t have the confidence at the time to just strike out on my own and figure out how I’d make it. So, I want to make sure that that gets emphasized because I did get, it wasn’t all—I don’t want to say doom and gloom—it just wasn’t all violence for the sake of violence, there was on campus an atmosphere of intellectual curiosity, and some of it was alternative, some of it was New Age, too. Like I said, the education reforms that were going on. The School Without Walls was terrific, I loved it. I was going there and observing and those sorts of things.

 

[Interviewer]: No, it was nationally known, absolutely.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah, and I don’t know where education reform went. So much of what we were doing at the time, and this is the time I grew up in and I took with me. And so, a lot of it just got quelled. I had a girlfriend tell me, and I didn’t realize it, this was when I was in law school and we used to go jogging together, Beverly Pyle and I. We used to go jogging together, and she went to Hiram and she was much smarter than I, better grades than I. And we were just jogging one day and she was a very practical girl, and she said, “Didn’t you notice, Nancy,” she said, “everything stopped after the shootings.” Well, and not in my imagination, I’m still there, but she’s right. We got—we did get suppressed. I mean, our country, you know, was bold—was adamant enough to shoot our students. Our children. We shot our children.

 

I remember going home once during all this, right around a lot of this stuff, and my father’s telling me that they deserved it. So, you asked me this question about what I shared with my family? Very little. Didn’t change my tune, but I shared very little with my family. I was shocked at my father’s thinking, but he did think that way. And he had to. Here’s the other thing, we were made to make a choice. So here comes somebody like my father, who comes out of World War, you know, a World War II veteran, Navy diver, and this country gave him so much. And every time he talked about Italy he would say, I’d ask him, “Why aren’t we going to visit? Why can’t I meet my grandparents?” He says, “Why? Do I have to go stare at the rocks? What am I going to do with the rocks over there?” He was done. So, he comes here, and for his existence, with him and my mother and what we had, was bountiful. So, perhaps that’s one reason that he’d look at us and think we were really at fault. But he did, and that, I just had to walk away from that.

 

[Interviewer]: [01:08:40] His frame of reference was there. One thing I’m curious about, you mentioned when you were living in North Carolina and meeting new friends, and you didn’t really bring up Kent State, you didn’t bring up the fact that you were here the day of the shootings, do you have any thoughts about that? Is it just something you didn’t want to talk about yet? Did your friends know you had been here? They would have been curious to hear your story, I’m sure. I’m curious about that.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah, I’m thinking. I don’t know why. I can’t answer that, why I couldn’t bring it up.

I think it was, I think there was some trauma there. I mean, I don’t know. I mean, I was part of it but then, the country was so divided, my family was divided, and the country was divided. What do we do with this stuff? I mean, I had the experiences I had. Oh, I think what a part of it was is that it was unpopular. You know, it was kind of unpopular to—Kent had buried its head in the sand. Kent State had buried its head in the sand. And I don’t think it got articulated really well, and I have to hand it to the people whose—to my peers, I call them the old hippies, who stayed here on campus and didn’t want the shootings forgotten and wanted them memorialized. I didn’t do that. And I didn’t want to live in that. And they did and they, the ones that are still there, still are living it. I know, I’ve been meeting them lately because I’ve been going to these events. But without them, we wouldn’t have the [May 4] Visitors Center, and without them, we probably wouldn’t even have that pitiful memorial that’s there. And, so, look what that took. And they, in my opinion, that became a cause for them, but they also, probably, and I can’t say that I know this, and they perhaps had some sacrifice. So, what do we do with that? What do we do when we experience such a setback that’s going to change—where there are choices that we need to make that are going to—that wouldn’t otherwise have been there—that we’re going to have to retrench?

 

And that’s what my peers did, the ones who stayed behind, and really got invested in this. They retrenched and they would not let the event be forgotten. And yes, books have been written about it, and now there’s even—the writings are scholarly and, you know, they’re high quality. I mean, they’re believable, what we have now, the lexicon of books we have about Kent and what’s happened at Kent now exist fifty years later. But they stayed, I didn’t. But it never left, my experience informed me, and I felt like an outlier in many cases. In some cases, just having been there. So, why didn’t I bring it up? To whom? To whom? I don’t know. Certainly not to the people I—we just didn’t talk about it.

 

And then, one day, I was married the second time, and I wrote about this, I was married the second time and I had joined a support group. I’d only been to Kent to get my transcripts and I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I had to go to the way the other end of campus, it was a bleary day, I needed my transcripts to apply to law school. So, that was probably the first time I had been there, I had only been to campus a couple times. So, I picked up my transcripts to get into law school in 1982. So, from ’70 to ’82, I don’t think I had been there. And I just, I just scooted away. And still very angry.

 

But I forgot the question. Oh, did I not talk about it. Well, there was so much going on, I already had become the person I was going to be. My values, my beliefs. I haven’t actualized them to a great extent. But, like I said, the human rights movements were all around us. Women’s rights, voting rights, gay rights at the time, not so much LGBTQ, but gay rights at the time. A lot of good stuff going on. And I remember, for example, I was a fan of Cesar Chavez. When he said don’t eat grapes, I didn’t eat grapes for six years. Whatever he said, you know, he was one of my heroes. So that was the kind of life I lived. And if we don’t eat grapes, we don’t eat grapes. And I followed those kind of movements. I remember when I was at Chapel Hill, I think I was shopping for groceries, and for some reason there was something about meat, and maybe having been the beef industry being threatened somehow, and there were these huge pictures, I’m not kidding, these wall-sized pictures of cuts of meat in the grocery store. And I went up to the manager and I said, “Do we really need to see these in our grocery?” And they took them down. So that, I mean, that’s what you did. We were activists in that sense, that’s what—and it worked. It worked. So, and I needed to take care of myself. I needed to manage to get a job, make some money, get a degree, and so, the shootings were not—I didn’t carry all of this on my sleeve.

 

[Interviewer]: [01:16:09] At this point, I guess I would just ask if there’s anything else that’s popped into your mind that you’d like to bring up or touch on that we haven’t covered?

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yes, two things. One is that I’m seventy-two years old now. Several years ago—a year ago, I think, maybe a year and a half ago now, I was doing my taxes. And, as I mentioned before, I haven’t actualized myself to the extent that I wish I had earlier, but, you know, it is what it is. And I have grown as an attorney and given my experiences to embrace peace and conflict. Peace and conflict studies and conflict dispute resolution. And dispute resolution is an area, a passion of mine, peace studies is a passion of mine. So, I wanted to leave—I decided to leave a legacy. I don’t have to worry about—I don’t have children, people in my family are fine. And I, for some reason I was in my office, here, working on my—thinking about my taxes two years ago, and I had decided that I wanted to do something for the [May 4] Visitors Center in memory of the May 4th. Now, at this time in my life. And the best thing that I had decided to do was to leave a legacy, whatever money it is I can, I’ve made some arrangements with the Foundation office. And I have set up a May 4th foundation. The goal of my foundation is to—the purpose of the foundation is to establish a summit meeting every two years. And the topics that could get discussed at the summit meeting have to do with conflict and dispute resolution and also spirituality in the New Age and how the two intersect. Most importantly for me is that that summit has to be directed toward youth engagement. It doesn’t matter, my generation and even the generation that comes after me. What I am seeing happening, that happened to me three generations ago, is occurring with the children now. I’m seeing it in the environmental movement with climate change, I am seeing it with the Parkland kids in gun control. And you see it in young people like Malala. And I believe that that generation is going to be a generation—they are going to be change agents in the same way that my generation was. We’ve accomplished a lot, the human rights movement got established, the second wave of it. And yeah, okay, so there’s going to be setbacks, there’s going to be pushbacks, blowbacks, there always is. But it’s important for me to tell you, to say that this is how I’ve grown from this experience. Both the good and the bad and it was, and I have to say, I have to acknowledge Kent’s big part in it. That, I think, is what I really needed to say. I said I had two things to say; one was that, and I think I combined them.

 

[Interviewer]: Okay. [01:20:03] We can pause if you want a moment to consider.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Yeah.

 

[recording pauses and then resumes]

 

[Interviewer]: [01:20:09] So, I think we’re finished at that point. And again, Nancy, I want to say thank you so much for taking the time and being so generous in sharing your memories and your story with me and with the Oral History Project. Thank you so much.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: You are most welcome. And I was really afraid of this interview, I was afraid of what I had to say and what I did or didn’t remember, and I hope I spoke my truth. And so, I appreciate your coming out and helping me with this. It wouldn’t have happened otherwise.

 

[Interviewer]: Thank you.

 

[Nancy Fioritto]: Thank you, Kate.

 

 

[End of interview]

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