Floyd: War resistor; not a draft dodger

By Mallory Stiles
Editor in Chief

The best hope for the future is often found in the past, so today, we remember the lived experiences of not only a former LCC student, but those of a former editor of The Lookout, Bryan Floyd.

Floyd, 74, was born Feb. 8, 1950, in Detroit. He graduated high school in 1968. Then, in the fall of 1969, he started at LCC and began to write for The Lookout.

“We published 25 weekly editions on a budget of $12,500,” Floyd said. “It was our way to talk to the future.”

As editor in chief, he had a few rules, otherwise known as “Bryanisms.”

“Number one, war solves nothing,” Floyd said. “Secondly, content is everything. … Another one was, nothing gets done without a deadline. Don’t overpromise, that’s on the list, too.

“One last one, that guided me more than anything: if your first decision is wrong, every decision that follows is a compromise.”

In 1969, as editor, Floyd used his voice to mobilize the thoughts of only the brightest of his generation. He worried constantly about content and stressed for hours over layouts, never stopping to care about anything other than publishing the truth.

It was the time of newly legal abortion, anti-intellectualism, the Beatles, the Vietnam War, the newly birthed Civil Rights Movement and, of course, the reigning Donald Trump of the late ‘60s / early ‘70s: Richard Nixon.

He and his staff fought like hell for things like better food on campus and lower course costs, but also protested loudly against the Vietnam War, anti-abortionists and political corruption.

By 1969, over 200,000 people had been drafted to win the Vietnam War, but there was no end in sight.

Bryan Floyd (left) is shown in his childhood with his four siblings.  Coutesy photo

One of his best pieces of the year was an editorial about the “Nov. 15 Vietnam Moratorium,” held in Washington, D.C.

The last sentences of Floyd’s 1969 Vietnam Moratorium editorial read: “My generation has been left a dark and fearful future. It is up to us, the younger generation, to lift this country out of its present warped condition so that we may leave our children a brighter future, one of peace and prosperity.”

Upon hearing his own words at age 74, he recalled writing them in the back of a bus on his way home from the event. Everyone else was busy chatting, but he wrote it all down.

“I liked the idea of moving journalistic materials into historic positions,” he said.

During this time, Dr. Philip J. Gannon was LCC’s president; he did not support The Lookout’s efforts.  

“If he could have gotten me out of there, he would have,” Floyd chuckled. “Especially in the later part of the ‘69-‘70 year. He felt that what we were doing could have caused problems with the financial community who make investments in LCC, but my attention was on the issues, not the financial stuff.”

Floyd also ran for student-body president in 1969 and fought hard for the very journalism program that LCC offers today; one that transfers to universities. The official fortification of the program happened only a few years after Floyd’s efforts.

His talents promised a bright future, until the mail came one day ...

“My notification came telling me I was being drafted,” Floyd said. “It said the bus leaves at this hour, so, make sure you are on that bus and away you go to boot camp. So, I went down to where the bus was and there were guys getting on it. I didn’t.

“I knew that if I stepped on that bus, my life was going to be a whole lot different. It wouldn’t make a statement. Moments like that are what we call defining moments.”

After that, Floyd’s name went from being in the byline to the headlines:

“Bryan Floyd, Former Lookout Editor, Challenges Draft Ruling”
This headline appeared in The Lookout in Volume X, No 13, printed on Feb. 16, 1971.

Then …

“Floyd Fights For Freedom”
From Volume XIV, No. 5, printed on Nov. 27, 1974.

Sadly, and shortly after that …

“Former Editor Jailed”
From Volume XIV, No. 10, printed on April 10, 1975.

“When you first get to Milan,” Floyd said, “a federal penitentiary, when you are first taken in, you go through unmentionable things, and when you first are in there, they put you in solitary for a week.”

Floyd is one of five siblings, including his baby sister, Betty. She was 18 when he was put in prison. She remembers it all too well and confessed she is still traumatized from watching the whole thing.

Bryan Floyd is shown in a recent photo with his youngest sibling, sister Betty.  Courtesy photo

Her big brother, who not too long ago she was splashing around in mud puddles with, was being incarcerated.

“I was a freshman at Michigan State,” Betty shared. “I was just mortified when they actually put him in prison. Bryan was never a heavy guy, but I watched him get thinner and thinner. It was horrifying.”

However, she added how much she respected her brother for how he handled it all.

“Obviously, it’s a very difficult part of our family history,” Betty said, “but it is there and I am not ashamed of it by any means. I am proud of my brother.

“When he was in prison, they nicknamed him ‘The Professor,’ because he helped them write letters and set up a music program. When he was free, the prison tried to hire him. They offered him a job because his test results were the highest they had ever seen within the prison, which is how he then ended up joining Mensa (a high IQ society). My brother is a survivor of this scenario.”

Floyd said his perseverance had a lot to do with something that caught his eye early on in his stay.

“Through the cell window, you could look out into the yard,” he said, “I saw there was a tulip tree out there. When I saw that, I said, speaking to the tree of course, ‘By God, if you can make it, I can make it too.’”

Bryan Floyd's challenge of the draft was featured on the front page of The Lookout in February 1971.

However depressing Floyd’s case had become, his courageous mother never gave up on her son. She contacted multiple senators, unions and organizations, pleading her son’s case over and over again.

After a while, the whole family made near-constant noise with help of friends from every corner, including The Lookout. Then, finally, five months into his sentence, Floyd was released with a full pardon from President Gerald Ford.

Upon being released, Floyd WAS offered a job at Milan Penitentiary, but got back his old job at the Highway Department instead. At 31, he got married to a woman named Donna. He now has four children.

“We have been married for 43 years,” he said. “When you find the right person, and I did, the years just roll on by. She’s an incredible wife, mother and friend.”

He described his kids as “a joy” and was proud to report he also has five marvelous grandchildren.

“I am going to zoom to the end of my career,” he said. “I was working with the network technology of a start-up company ... and I was able to retire at 62.”

Floyd has now seen the world, created a very successful career and faced every kind of challenge that a man could face, but, he ALWAYS, as his sister Betty put it, “stayed Bryan.”

He still loves racoons and the song “Karn Evil 9” by Emerson, Lake & Palmer. He still follows politics and loves to read new issues of The Lookout.

“I worked hard,” he said, “which is never an easy road to take, but it’s a fulfilling one, and when you get to be my age, you can still look yourself in the mirror.”       

Floyd hates taking credit. As a result, he has never been truly celebrated as a citizen, activist, engineer or editor. It is time the world acknowledged his impact by CHOOSING to never forget his legacy.

“You can stand up for something,” he said. “You can stand up for what’s right.”