![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0eb3BqukxZyDGilB9GyNT1tzbYC0SKNjx5yc1agIg4x8uokEKXNCdLeDhEJNqiy1YQQJ0MLaTrk_V8loG6g39uil6qGcpf9YP1F11sY1yRDkbtLsfu4dlDQZv66vg-DwW8_bnCbG6Cuy/s400/features_ayers1.jpg)
This is what Bill Ayers was doing in 2001, when Barack Obama was 40 (not 8) and AFTER Barack became friends with him and launched his political career at Ayers' house. He seems like such a sweet guy, I guess he didn't want to get his shoes dirty so he needed to keep them from touching the ground...
No Regrets - Chicago Magazine - August 2001 - Chicago
At 55, Bill Ayers, the notorious sixties radical, still carries a whiff of that rock 'n' roll decade: the oversize wire-rim glasses that, in a certain light, reveal themselves as bifocals; a backpack over his shoulder—not some streamlined, chic job, but a funky backpack-of-the-people, complete with a photo button of abolitionist John Brown pinned to one strap.
Yet he is also a man of the moment. For example: There is his cell phone, laid casually on the tabletop of this neighborhood Taylor Street coffee shop, and his passion for double skim lattes. In conversation, he has an immediate, engaging presence; he may not have known you long but, his manner suggests, he's already fascinated. Then there is his quick laugh and his tendency to punctuate his comments by a tap on your arm.
Overall, it is not easy to imagine him as part of the Weatherman, a group that during the late sixties and early seventies openly called for revolution in America, led a violent rampaging protest in Chicago, and took credit for numerous bombings around the United States.