I popped into his Lawndale quarters in the summer of ’68, found him and Rollie Smith, another SJ scholastic, showing signs of being beaten up. One of the locals, whom they had befriended, had done it.
An older man, an ally, said he’d go home and get his “piece,” but Jack had said no. They had to stick by the assailant, a young man whom they had staying with them, Jack explained with a smile.
The assailant got over his outburst later. Jack and the others stayed with the work, needless to say.