Just got done reading about the Riot deaths... http://www.67riots.rutgers.edu/d_victims.htm
Since I was only 5, my memories are limited to peeking out the window & seeing what I thought was "The Army" driving down our street.
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Just got done reading about the Riot deaths... http://www.67riots.rutgers.edu/d_victims.htm
Since I was only 5, my memories are limited to peeking out the window & seeing what I thought was "The Army" driving down our street.
A gleam in my father's eye.
I was barely a year old and nowhere near the city, but after reading the victim reports, and based on personal interest and study of the riot-rebellion whatever terminology you choose to use, seems that more than a few policemen and national guard soldiers probably should have been charged with murder or been investigated more thoroughly.... I know that in the Algiers Motel incident the officers were charged, tried, and aquitted...
Prentis Street
The tabs were kicking in. Someone put an LP on the turntable, and the room was filled with the soft voice of Marty Balin, singing "Coming Back To Me". Prentis Street, in Detroit, at that moment, was a beautiful place and time to be young and alive. Who knew, that in just two months, she would be sent on her Good Humor ice cream route, smack into the middle of the insurrection of 1967...
I was too young to remember. I did go to a seminar at Wayne State on the 40th anniversary of the riot. Speakers had said that the death toll was much higher than was reported back then
I was in my senior year in Lincoln Park High School. I lived close to Fort Street, so I sat on my parents front porch and watched the army convoys headed north. As they were passing, I would see jeeps with machine guns mounted driving through both alleys east and west of Fort providing security in case of snipers.
I was in the gas station on the corner by my house when LP police came in and said "By order of the Govenor of the State of Michigan, I order this establishment closed immediately." The guy who was the manager said he couldn't. The cop glared at him and said "You can shut this place and go home, or I will shut it down and you go with me to the station." The manager closed up quickly. You could not buy gasoline in any container.
When the curfew was imposed a high school of mine was on his way to see his girlfriend who lived down the street from me. I told him it was 8pm and he would not make it to her house. He just laughed and said he would talk to me later and left. He only made it 1 house down from me when the cops arrested him for curfew violation.
Speaking of gleams in the eyes of fathers,mine cut short his and my moms honeymoon as he was an auxiliary police officer in Garden City at the time.From a young age I was told stories of the riots.To this day I am still amazed that any city could do so much harm to oneself.
I was the fifth from the back, wearing a tan tear gas vest and reaching for my visor.
It was an insurrection but calling it a riot sounded better.I grew up on the north side of Detroit,not too far from the State Fair grounds and you could hear the helicopters taking off and landing at all hours of the day and night.By my house was the Boydell paint factory and a tank farm for Marathon that held heating oil.There were National Guardsmen on the Grand Trunk RR tracks with a .30 cal machine gun and on the roof of the paint factory was another .30 cal machine gun manned by the National Guard.An exciting,but scary,time for a 10 year old boy...
I had a job unloading busses at the Greyhound terminal. I came to work in the afternoon on the Ford and Chrysler. I had the road to myself. Streams of smoke were rising from all over. Along the Chrysler, a grocery was burning and some girls were running toward the store overhead on a pedestrian walkway to do some last minute shopping.
Not many people were coming in on the busses,. Some of the employees couldn't make it to work. At night some of us employees would sit on carts outside the bus entrance and watch the police cars and army troop carriers rushing around. That was the only traffic except for a legless guy who scooted along with his hands on some sort of skateboard device a block away. Very wierd.
After the riots, not so many people wanted to visit Detroit. Greyhound passenger volume was way down. Over 40 of us, mostly students, were laid off. I got another job the next week on the SS South America and went to Montreal.
I worked downtown. On Monday, the office was closed. On Tuesday, the office opened and I had to go in. The Express bus wasn't running. It was just me and the driver on the Joy Road bus, threading through the streets going around W. Grand Blvd at Grand River, where we saw the tanks sitting, and the National Guard soldiers standing at ready. I don't know about the driver, but I definitely had a very sensitive feeling between my shoulder blades as I thought about the reports of snipers in that area. The air was thick with the smell of burning. I can still conjure that smell to this day. Gaping storefronts were everywhere up and down Grand River.
When I got to work, it was a skeleton staff, and me, Junior, the student intern. We spent a bit of time discussing where we were, what we thought, and what we saw. One woman was living at Wayne State, and reported lying on her floor watching tracers going past in the night sky. Stores everywhere were closed, and gas stations. In those days, you had to go to a grocery store to get milk for the baby, and at Wayne State, apparently you couldn't get any because the only store, on the corner of Second and Prentiss, was closed. The woman told of Leni Sinclair standing outside shouting to get into the store because she needed milk for the baby. I hope someone gave her some milk
6011 Cadillac Avenue, just a few houses south of the Ford freeway. My parents owned 2 rooming houses there and sent me, my twin brother and younger brother to watch the places as their hired manager left town. I was going to Wayne, my twin was at Highland Park CC and my younger brother was going to Cass Tech. All schools were closed and we were not venturing out much during the day. We were sleeping with 12 guage shotguns next to our beds. If we did go out it was to walk up the block to look up and down the Ford freeway. Nothing was moving except for national guard patrols in larger trucks and jeeps. Monitored the police scanner and TV constantly. Never heard any shooting or had any trouble. Just a number of days in lockdown mode and wondering what had happened to the city and how we would ever recover.
Wow! Thanks for all the stories, thanks Ray for the pic! keep 'em coming. I personally think that history is most enjoyable when it comes from those who lived it. Even though it was a dark period in Detroit history, we shouldn't pretend it never happened, nor forget those who died & were affected by it... Not trying to drag Race into this thread, but, being Black, I just try to understand why Rioters burned & looted the places where they lived, shopped & worked? I guess I need to do a lot more research on the psychology of Civil Unrest? Sports teams win, people Riot... Unfavorable Court rulings, people Riot... ultimately nobody gains anything but a few looted items & a temporary sense of empowerment.
I was in college [[Wayne State) and worked part-time [[Saturday shift) at National Bank of Detroit. Got off work about 6:30pm and took the Gratiot bus [[Great Lakes) home. The next day my girl friend and I attended a Tiger doubleheader [[against Boston, I think). We saw all the smoke rising from the west side and talked about driving over there when the games were over. We decided against it [[luckily). There was still a news blackout on the event. During the week, I operated a press at a small shop in Roseville. It was eerie to see an army tank on the grass of the Mack/Gratiot precinct when I took the bus to the bank on the following Saturday. I seem to remember that there was a ban on the sale of alcohol in the tri-county area, so I went with a neighbor to Port Huron to buy beer for our block [[14 houses).
I was 8 years of age and on vacation with my parents in southern Illinois, my uncle came in to my grandmothers house and told my mom there was a "race riot" going on in detroit. I was thinking "Race cars" and wondering what he was talking about but then my mom started crying and dad started packing up then I knew something bad was happening. We arrived back in Detroit tuesday. I remember a lot about the riot, helicopters, tanks, my dad saying the 101st airborne on the ground in Detroit but my most vivid memory was looking out the front and back upstairs windows and seeing the skies glowing orange. Detroit was burning and I scared to death.
I think I was still in the design stage.... Still there were some factory mistakes...
Working downtown at Mary Jane Shoes [[or Crosleyy's...which ever one was across Woodward from the Kern block. It's been 40+ years for pity sake). Didn't go to work the first 4 days. I very much remember armored personell carriers on Woodward, and a National Guardsman coming into the store. Manager greeted him like an old friend. The Guardsman used to work there.
Sunday night, me and a date were at The Music Hall watching The Sand Pebbles when the film was stopped, and the manager walked in the front of the theatre on the small stage in front of the screen and said something to the extent that the mayor had declared an emergency, and that all patrons were requested to go home.
As to why people burn and loot places they shop, I wish I knew. Don't know if anyone has an answer, either.
I was still in pigtails during the Riot. I remember the scratchy feel of our old blue couch that I crouched on to peek thru the living room window curtains so I could watch the tanks roll down Wildemere. Whenever I go back home, I look out that same window and "see" those tanks rolling thru the intersection. Will never forget it. Daddy was stuck out at the Rouge so I got to sleep in my parent's bed with Moms - who had Daddy's pistol underneath her pillow. Moms says that what she remembers most about the Riot was the large number of cars with out-of-state license plates.
I lived in Washington Twp at the time. I had just graduated high school. I was driving from my house to Romeo for some reason that escapes me right now. As I hit the intersection of 28 Mile and Van Dyke, there was a line of MSP cars headed south on Van Dyke. I had no idea why at the time, but after talking to my mother later, I found out they had left the Romeo MSP post to head to Detroit.
I worked at the Gateway Theatre in Sterling Heights at the time [[it's not a theatre anymore...turned it into some kind of office building) which was located just north of 14 Mile Road. 14 Mile was the cutoff border for buying alcoholic beverages and, I think, gasoline. My parents were very worried about me driving in that area at night because lots of people were heading to that area to buy stuff they couldn't buy elsewhere.
And in Romeo...just to be funny...some of the black people set an old abandoned house on fire that they had been trying to get torn down for years. As I recall, there were no racial problems within the area itself though. There was no rioting or anything there.
I remember feeling far removed from it all, but still being scared that it would accelerate.
At the time, there was some thought that the looting and burning was an attack on the white store owners. Many of the owners along Grand River were Caucasion, some Jewish. Some people painted SOUL on their stores to try and save them. SOUL was supposed to indicate the store had black owners. They got burnt out too.
Toolin' down 12th St with my parents in Dad's 1967 cherry-red Olds Toronado. It was Dad's idea of fun...he kept saying, "ja, dis is vat Berlin looked like after da war..." I still have the Super-8 movies, a little shaky, tho'...memories...
I lived around the Harper and Van Dyke area and there was a fair amount of looting. My Dad drove a charter bus and had to drive up Linwood avenue that Sunday night to drop off some passengers. When he got home that night he was all shook up and if anybody in the world needed a drink it was probably him. Its funny when you think about it now.
"Whenever I go back home, I look out that same window and "see" those tanks."
Those were not tanks, Nan. They were armored personnel carriers [["APC's). They were loaned to the DPD by Cadillac Tool and Gauge about the third day of the riot.
I became a life-long admirer of the Salvation Army during that riot. They kept us in coffee and chow for ten days. I still make a hefty donation at Christmas each year.
carlscomputers asked:
> Wow! Your Dad lived through the War in Berlin?
Dad was a US citizen. He was there but never told why. Somehow, he got to Hiroshima two days after the blast [[checked this out with Dad's friends after his death) - he described the destruction vividly but refused to say why he was there. From what I've heard, a lot of strange things happened before VE- and VJ-days...
Dad was a wonderful guy, a man's man, full of love and kindness and gentility. Inside was a hard-ass adventurer, so it shouldn't have been surprising that he wanted to sashay thru smoking ruins after getting his "new car". Geez, I remember Mom shitting bricks in the back seat!! I was a zit-faced sophomore and thought he was cool as hell.
> I'm sure this was nothing [[not taking away from the seriousness
> of the Riot) to him!
Actually, Dad was very angry at the way the Govt handled the riot. He sided with the Black folks and was sympathetic about them being abused. I think after what he saw in WW2, he just wanted to build a better world any way he could...some of the WW2 guys were like that. Anyway, he felt the riot was the middle of the end for Detroit...unfortunately correct.
Dad's been gone more than 25 years, and I still miss him ... a lot. He was my best friend.
carlscomputers: here's what I posted on a similar DYes thread a few years back....
Posted on Thursday, October 26, 2006 - 5:55 am:
I was 10 years old that summer, living in the E. Warren-Outer Drive area.
What I remember most is at night when we could see the orange glow of fires west of us and hear random gunshots. Some of the East Side neighborhood of our parents' youth was being burned by looters. We knew the neighborhood well enough from all the Sunday drives through the streets of their youth so us kids could visualize what was happening where.
On Tuesday, July 25th, my younger brother's 6th birthday, Grandfather came over for dinner and afterwards we drove to Corrigan Park across the street from Engine 52[[?) at E. Warren and Manistique [[near Alter Rd.) to see the nearest staging area for National Guard tanks and fire trucks called in from the suburbs. Many police officers, firefighters, and soldiers were there...in full gear for whatever awaited them. Helicopters buzzed the sky around us. It was an awesome sight to a 10-year-old!
Every night that the riots wore on was a disappointment for us older kids as the curfew imposed on us cancelled our nightly bike ride with our mom [[who worked during the day). It was a summer evening ritual that we enjoyed and remember fondly.
At some point after the riots were over, we resumed our Sunday drives and, of course, did see the devastation on the East Side, mostly along Kercheval.
If you want to read more posts in those Hall of Fame threads...
http://atdetroit.net/forum/messages/...tml?1233694687
and
http://atdetroit.net/forum/messages/...tml?1235953895
Beachboy, your Dad certainly sounded like a great man. For all you know, he may have been a top secret Army Intelligence Officer? Thanks for sharing your memories of him...
I was 11 years old and living in the 7 Mile and Kelly area where a lot of Detroit Police lived back then. There were 5 officers on my block, including my father, who was an inspector at the time. He was stationed with the 46th Infantry where he spent several nights lying on the floor to avoid being shot by gunfire from the streets.
We kids were at home, scared to death that our fathers wouldn't be coming home again. There was a 6 pm curfew, so we had to stay on the porch in the evening and anxiously wait for word of what was happening.
Sounds like some of you folks have a few years on me--HELL YEAH! Anyway, the only thing I remember is my Mother telling us to stay on the back porch. We couldn't go anywhere else.
My Pop worked for the City of Detroit. I do remember hearing a story about the way the guys who worked for him saved him. About a month after the riots, Pop was working somewhere in the city. A bunch of black guys cornered him and started to beat on him. His workers stepped in and finished that fight. Thank God Pop had his workers there with him.
The only thing I can remember was going to the D&C IGA Foodliner on Joy Rd and having the place pretty much cleared out. I was really a younging then. But I do remember that. We were relatively unscathed in our area from the riot [[Joy Rd/Southfield).
15, living on the west side of Farmington Township near I-96, today M-5 freeway. I remember helicopters flying along the freeway, turning and flying over our house on the way back to the city.
On Sunday, we went to my aunt's in Novi for a family dinner. That is the first time we heard of the riots. I was supposed to go on Monday to Detroit as the last day in driver's education was the downtown day. Drive downtown, go to the coney island for lunch courtesy of the teacher.
When we met for class, he said we were not going to the city, but to Ann Arbor again. Bummer, no coneys but we get to look at co-eds instead, all while in the luxury of a 67 Galaxie coupe.
Thursday, I took my permit to get it signed at Northville Police and my road test for my restricted motorcycle license. Rode the bike there on the streets as I had no other way to get it there. Didn't worry too much about getting stopped, all cops had other things on their minds.
My dad had to make a liquor run, we drove out to Brighton to a state package liquor store and he waited in line to get his bottles.
In 1968, the Monday before Dr. King was killed, I bought a new BSA motorcycle from a dealer in Hazel Park, about a half mile north of Eight Mile. I picked it up on Friday afternoon, things were getting panicky in the city and the burbs. I picked it up, sent my mother north on Dequindre to one of the mile roads, back to Farmington, while my friend with his '68 Super Hawk and I went across Nine Mile home. About Nine and 75 traffic was gridlocked. I jumped the curb, started riding down the sidewalk as this was a new bike with about ten miles on it and it didn't take too kindly to extended idiling. My friend said "What if the cops see us?" I replied' "Gotta catch us!"
The most bizarre thing I saw that night was atop the Farmington Police, two officers standing at watch with rifles in hand........
I was 6 years old and growing up in the suburbs. I remember my next door [[police) neighbor going down to help out. My dad took us down later and I remember seeing a burnt out house near Linwood with just the chimney and a vaccuum cleaner standing.......
I was 8 years old, at my parent's home in NW Detroit [[7 mile/Lahser) and we could not leave our little postage stamp yard without permission, and then our parents would watch us cross the street to go to the neighbor's house to play. I remember the curfews, and how my dad would drive the family car to a lot on Grand River and take the bus to work instead of driving downtown. The most serious affect the riots had on us was the interruption in beer sales. The old man was going crazy after the stock of Strohs long necks were exhausted. The neighbor two doors down found out and told my Dad "I have a case of beer left over from new year's eve, I've been on the wagon and don't need it, you want it"? the old man leapt at the chance, carried home a case of very hot Pabst Blue Ribbon, cracked one open right there and drank it.
we had just gotten our first color television, a Zenith console. I remember my parents saying that if the riots spread to our area we would load the six kids and the Zenith and some clothes into the Chevy wagon and go live in Union Lake with my uncle. That never came to pass, of course.
growing up in Harper Woods, i took the bus to the Tigers game. We noticed smoke rising towards the end of the game, and when I got on the bus home a family friend grabbed me and drove me home explaining to me about the riots. I was 13. crazy man
Where do I begin. I was 13, up north. We were waiting for my grandparents to come up from Maryland. My dad asked them to leave a day early because of the tension in the city. The day early was to be used so they could drive up 23 instead of I-75. Extra day of travel time. I was waiting all day in the driveway of our cabin, expecting them to pull up any minute. Instead the State Police pull up. They asked to talk to my parents. They informed us that my grandparents had an accident outside of Bethesda . No one could reach us. No phones by our lake yet. We were asked to go into town and call the hospital. My aunt said we should come down ASAP. My grandma in critical condition. We went back to our home, packed and flew [[ my first plane ride) to D.C [[ Dulles). Only plane available on short notice. My grandma died August 1, 1967 from the injuries. In a strange and tragic way, I was deeply affected by the Detroit Riots. My family never got over it.
Fannie, I'm so sorry to hear about your family loss as a indirect result of the Riots, these are the statistics that don't make the papers or the news, but are no less tragic to those involved...
Thank You for sharing...
If you want to read more posts in those Hall of Fame threads...
http://atdetroit.net/forum/messages/...tml?1233694687
and
http://atdetroit.net/forum/messages/...tml?1235953895[/quote]
Thanks Kathleen
Thank you for your kind words. My dad went to his grave with the guilt. My grandparents got their car out of the car dealer where they had it to be checked over before the trip. The dealer claimed it was ready for the trip, even though they got it a day early. When they went down a hill on the interstate, about 20 minutes from their home, the car's steering did not work. The front wheels off the ground, they went off the road, about 50 feet down. Testing was done on the tires. They had less than 15 pounds of pressure. The car was impounded, then disappeared. My family had no way of going after the dealer. Another thing, my cousin was the attorney for the car dealer. That was his aunt, my grandma that died. One uncle never spoke to him again. One lesson I learned, I am very careful in life about a lot of things. Many of my dear relatives have passed on. Our family reunions after that tragedy, we appreciated each other even more. They never liked coming up here again from Maryland either.
You know for something that happened 43 yrs ago.To alot of the folks here, It could have been last week or so.I am kinda glad I did miss it all, And hope I never see anything like it in my lifetime.
I was 7 living in an apartment building on Longfellow street off Dexter [[mostly urban prairie land now)... my parents where terrified. We could not go out and play. I recall being pulled back from attempting to peeking out of windows. I remember the smell of it - buildings burning. I recall vaguely an apartment on Chicago street burning. Fire engines blaring day and night. The TV going night and day too. Later my parents talked about eating can goods and bare essentials because we could not get out to the grocery store. And a dry cleaners my parents went to burned to the ground...
I was out of town, half a world away from the riots. Just read about them in Time Magazine.
Returning to Detroit from vacation, we heard radio reports of rioting in Detroit. Apparently filtered stories to avoid panic, did not sound like "the city was on fire".
Our NW neighborhood was not affected. Grand River used to be so heavily traveled it was impossible for a pedestrian to cross anywhere but at a light.[[ I-96 from Lansing ended nearby in Farmington Twp, at Grand River, west of Middlebelt).
Every DSR bus coming up Grand River had broken windows, some had bullet holes. The drivers abandoned them at the end of the line- 7/Grand in Redford- they weren't about to go back!
Aside from the occasional bus, there was no traffic on Grand River. Everyone was hiding out, and could not buy gas if they wanted to drive anywhere.
Hermod, a M-3A1? .45 30 round clip ... unusual choice in weapons. Must be a story there
1st night,West Side Drive-In with my folks.Helicopter traffic from near by armoury was a sign that things were happening.Dad said they training to go to Viet Nam.Then they read a statement over the speakers about a curfew for all Detroit residents.We lived in Oak Park,but left anyway.We were met at the door by my hippie older brother,and told us what was going on.The next two days we just hung around the house and listened to the radio reports and watched the news at 6:00pm.It was on the second or third day that my full of crap older cousin Morty came over to inform us that Northland was in flames!I road my bike up tp 9 Mile Rd. and to the west was zero smoke.I reutned home to tell Dad that Morty was a liar.At this point we packed up the car and drove,past the un-burnt Northland ,to my uncle's house in Farmington.
After all this,the teachers went on strike,extending summer break.Then the Tigers lost the pennant on the last day.What a crazy time to be 10 years young.
I’m still waiting for an apology from the black community for the damage they did to the city
No, basic M3 with the charging crank.
Loaded it with one round tracer to two rounds ball and could aim it like a garden hose.
It was better than the pistol and didn't get in the way in the jeep like an M16 would have.
With the flash hider, it was so quiet from the back, you could hear the recoil springs squeaking when it was firing.
I traded a Vietnamese unit about two yards of gravel for the weapon. When I left, I gave it to my replacement.
I was about 10 years old at the time. We lived on Faust and I remember my Dad, Mom and little brother driving over to my Grandma's house on Ferguson to stay with her. My Grandpa was a DPD Reserve Officer that went out to "Protect and Serve" and that would have left Grandma all alone. Papa was all dressed in his uniform with his gun and I remember my Grandma begging him not to go. Not something a kid should have to witness. I do remember it like it was yesterday. My other Grandma was living in Alden Park at the time. 7th floor, city side. She could have worked for CNN with that view! The stories she told...geeze.
g: Your quote:
"...The woman told of Leni Sinclair standing outside shouting to get into the store because she needed milk for the baby. I hope someone gave her some milk..."
That would be Parker Brothers Market, I believe. Henry Drugs, down the street at Third & Prentis closed, with Henry's janitor, an old German guy known as "Ted" perched on a chair in front, a double barrelled shot gun in his lap and a Luger strapped to his side.
The small store at 2nd @ Prentis sold out all stock in a couple of hours.
D: I have never read Them. Might pick it up...
Worked at WWJ at the time, they put a camera on the roof of the building - but WXYZ on Second sent out Barney Morris and Ken Thomas and they won hands down for the coverage. Drove in from Ferndale everyday, straight down Livernois to Lafayette. Didn't see any real action except for what was on TV. It was a surreal experience, almost like it wasn't happening blocks away - except for all the inconvenience of the curfew and all the favorite haunts being closed. I still cringe when I hear the names of streets like Pingree and recall the awful stories of unarmed youths being shot. Oh well.
The following spring, the nuns warned us to be alert during summer vacation, because the word was that "they" might come out to the 'burbs, this time.
I'm not sure who they meant. The nuns, themselves, were the ones what scared me.
At the time of the Riot, I was in the Army in Vietnam. When I returned to the States in August, I drove from Tennessee to Michigan to pick up my Wife, who was staying with her Mother and Aunt in Bad Axe. When I was in the Detroit area, I needed gas. While filling it up, I asked the guy what happened? I was needing some new tires, so decided to get a set of aluminum wheels also. He referred me to a wheel/tire shop in the area of the rioting, and I was just shocked at seeing what people had done to there own neighborhoods.
barely a year old
I ran into a despicable white guy who claimed to have participated in the looting with other whites. His rationalization was that the stores were already in the process of being looted and "we weren't going to let the ------s get it all".
In some situations, the theme was anarchy and looting rather than race although the stores marked 'soul' weren't usually looted until after the white owned stores.
I had told you that the blacks weren't the only ones who were rioting and looting
I just turned 17,It was a hot night and along with 2 friends walked up to the corner of Washburn and Grand River we sat for an hour in utter silence,there was a curfew and that's why normally bristling Grand River was silent .My one friend who just got a railroad job lit a railroad fuse and tossed it out on Grand River. Out of no where a Army jeep started chasing us ,I jumped behind a bush ,the Jeep stopped right there and a southern voice shouted "Boy I'm counting to 3 and shooting right in that bush", I came out and they beat the crap out of me, I spent the next 2 days on the couch because I couldnt walk Thats my riot Story.
I was ten and living in GPW. I remember my dad placing an M1 Carbine on the mantle though.
Whatever the problems were that the black folks had with the city or the police on that night in July of 1967 were, it’s nothing compared to the screwing they got everyday over the next over forty years during the Coleman Young, Archer, and Kwame Kilpatrick administrations. You can try to revise history, lie to yourself, or just go into denial, but the truth is the truth. We should all look back on the Mayor Cavanagh years as “the good old days”.
I was 17, going to Mackenzie High School for summer school [[I was taking my senior lifesaving class), living at Plymouth and Greenfield. I remember watching a lot of TV newscasts, and pretty much staying in the house. My best friend, who lived on Mendota and Grand River saw quite a bit more activity in her neighborhood.
For me, the changes began in fall of that year, when school started up. The whole atmosphere was different to me. People had changed, whites a little more distrustful, African-Americans became more militant. We had not had a lot of serious trouble at Mackenzie, but that following year, there were lots of things going on. Violence stepped up, some protests over different things [[the draft, for one thing). People looked at each other in a different way. It was very sad and kind of scary. I remember staying late working on the DIAL [[our school newspaper) and I was told that I couldn't walk around the building by myself, that it wasn't safe. I had always felt comfortable in that building, before and after classes. To me the riots changed the way white people and black people related to each other.
....and then..........what? Then you'll pick up a hammer and start swinging it at some nails in the core? Houses, block after block spring up? Who is to do the appologizing? ONE black guy? The whole community? Who's appology is good enough? Appologize to you personally or at some media event?
The black community of Detroit today, have nothing to appologize for. Just like us white folk of today, have nothing to appologize for the things our race has done to countless others in the past. You remember those things right? Me neither, it was generations ago. What I'm getting at is your city, will NEVER be the place this forum strives for with half assed, 40 year old grudges. You can't seriously say that white people wern't looting too. Just because there are no "eye witness'" on this board right now, then that's it? Nah......people arn't built like that. A riot is a riot is a riot. Everyone gets in on the mix.
oladub said it perfectly:
"His rationalization was that the stores were already in the process of being looted and "we weren't going to let the ------s get it all". "
you can't see white people doing that??? No, white people arn't capable of participating is something so primal. Get real. I can't even beleive people still choose to think that way. Those comments arn't going to get you any "i'm sorry" s from anyone anyways. It just antaganises black people. What do you want them to say?
"sorry, but when all you white folks abandonned the city after the riot there wern't enough of us to maintain it, or ourselves and things went to shit" ????
I never want to jump into these race threads because they get nasty here on DYS, anywhere for that matter, and all it does is piss people off. Maybe I'm nieve, I don't come from a city with these kinds of tensions. But I do come from a city that watched another city burn to the effing ground as a result of this crap. And maybe, juuuuust maybe, that's why those tensions arn't so thick here.
I can only hope that you havn't spread that poisonous garbage to your children.
sorry...that's probably the first and last time I talk race here. That was just a stupid comment. I honestly hope I didn't offend anyone, you too Cass1966. I don't think your dumb or stupid, but that way of thinking certainly has to go. I only mean to say that this race garbage belongs in the history books. Keep this crap up and you're doomed to repeat it.
Buy American: I saw at least 1 white person with a looted lamp in the Harper/Van Dyke area during the riot. I know for a fact that whites and other non blacks looted in the 2nd precinct. I am suprised you did not see it, maybee you were not in the more racially mixed areas at the time.
I saw plenty white people looting and arrest records will show the same. Those choices had nothing to do with color and had everything to do with people making wrong choices when law and order temporarily broke down. If there is any apologizing to do then those who committed crimes are the ones who should offer apologies. Statistics will also show that a large majority of people did not break any laws and concerned themselves, as we all did, with safety and helping each other out.
I posted an account on the old board at http://atdetroit.net/forum/messages/...ml?#POST584920 and copied here.
I lived in an apartment at 70 W. Warren [Barnes and Noble today] that summer and rode the DSR bus out Warren to the Rouge where I worked on the Dearborn Engine assembly line.
On the first [Sunday] morning, some friends picked me up to visit their place in Southfield. On the return trip down the Lodge, we noticed numerous columns of smoke and learned of some “disturbances” but thought little of it.
My friend’s friend worked at muffler shop on Livernois, so she wanted check on her. We exited at Livernois and immediately at the top of the ramp, saw looters, white and black, joyously running across the streets, arms laden with loot. My friends continued to the down ramp and returned me home.
By Sunday night the rebellion was in full force. Increasing background gunfire could be heard, but nothing like what was to follow. Noticeable were the police cars returning to the 13th precinct station a block away. Their windows were shattered and fenders dented and from the start it was apparent that this was not a race riot but an anti-authority, particularly anti-police, uprising.
The following day I rode the Warren bus to work and noticed considerable devastation along the way, the “Soul Brother” signs on Afro-Am owned business, and surly armed merchants by others. Yet there was still an air of disbelief or denial, as if it would go away. That had changed by the time my overtime shift ended. When the bus got to around Grand Blvd. the bus driver had us get out saying curfew was on that was the end of the route!
So there I was, background gunfire increasing, the smell of smoke everywhere, sun setting on a sultry summer night and two miles from home. Luckily I flagged a cab on his way in and he got me back. You can be sure he got a good tip.
The National Guard had arrived in the meantime and that night machinegun fire was added to the growing crescendo of non-stop sirens and gunfire. If any of you have heard the New Year’s gunfire in Detroit at its peak, just add the sound of countless machine guns and imagine it not stopping all day and night and you get the picture. It was like some giant popcorn popper, popping at its peak but never stopping, accentuated by deep booms and the throaty ‘whump, whump, whump’ of 50 caliber machine guns.
By Tuesday all the corners around Warren and Woodward were occupied by National Guardsmen. They were a comical lot, slovenly dressed, guns at all angles, shirt tails sticking out, helmets hanging sloppily on their heads, some overweight and all looking like deer in the headlights. I remember talking to one, some skinny kid from way up north who had never been to the D and nervous as a Chihuahua.
Items like milk and other high turnover items ran out and gasoline could only be sold in limited amounts and not in containers.
We learned that during the previous night the NG and police had abandoned a 200 block area of the west side bounded roughly by the Lodge, Grand Blvd., Livernois and Davison. The city had fully exploded and Johnson had announced that troops from the Viet Nam hardened 82nd & 101st Airborne division had been ordered into the city.
Hornwrecker’s map does not show it all; a line should extend way out Warren and other avenues. Also there needs to be a sniper spark behind the DIA. I could hear him clearly from my apartment. Blam! Then five minutes of gun fire with at least four machine guns finally fading away, a pause, then Blam!, and another five minutes of the same as [we learned later] the NG freaked out and fired wildly in all directions. This went on for about three hours.
During that time my brother called me from Illinois wondering if it was as bad as it looked on TV. Just as he asked a flurry of machine guns opened up. So I just held the phone handset by the window and let him have his answer.
Meanwhile at the 13th Precinct, the battered police cars now only left in convoys of five or more cars, all with non-driver windows open and long guns protruding. This would continue for many weeks following the riot. Once often cocky faces were dour, tired and worried.
Life on the street was not what one might suspect. As happens in times of disaster [I saw this after the tornado that swept through Highland Park too] people pulled together, helped each other out, shared meals and looked in on the old folk. People of all races and differences were drawn together, not apart. There was no anger, nor was there an aura of fear. Instead there was an air of mild excitement, almost a sense of being in the midst of great history and change.
When the Federal Airborne troops arrived, the contrast with the NG was striking. Their arrival was almost like a flowers and kisses welcoming. I joined a friend of mine to visit a friend of his in the 101st. They had bivouacked on a school playground on the eastside. Not only was the force made up of about 30% minorities, it was all spit and polish disciplined pros right down to their shiny combat boots.
Wherever they took over, the riot ended almost immediately. People trusted them and felt [and rightly so] they would not carelessly open fire without order or reason and clear targets.
Unfortunately there were not enough of them for the Westside where the police and poorly disciplined NG’s were again driven out of the 200 block zone. The riot peaked that night and the full glare of the national and international media spotlight fell totally on Detroit – and stays with us to this day in many ways.
The smell of smoke was omnipresent making those hot hazy days even hazier. Like a massive snow storm everything came to a halt during that midweek but gradually and steadily it abated. By the weekend, it was over.
I went to work every day. When I look back I had to be nuts, but I needed the money. My afternoon shift kept being called off after four hours because of the 9 PM curfew and every day it was nip and tuck to make it home by bus. Sometimes I ended up walking several blocks or taking circuitous bus routes.
The devastation along my Warren bus route grew daily and was immense. The ashes of a huge furniture store lay smoldering on the SW corner of Grand River and Warren, a vacant lot to this day and only a short distance from the Fire Department Training station. Countless storefronts lay shattered and the remains of their contents littered the sidewalks while military patrols whisked by. Every liquor store along the way was looted and destroyed. The city was under military occupation.
But then life went on. The Tigers were in a pennant race, Motown was cranking out the hits and I was back to slamming pistons into hot selling Ford 390 cubic inch engines. And 1967’s shock wave still rolls on.
Yep, it's reasonable that there were some whites looting along with everyone else. The percentage of whites living in Detroit was much higher then [[a forgotton fact)... and the breakdown affected everyone in the city and some responded -- taking advantages as they were available.
I don't remember much of the details except the Detroit News wasn't available to me for a few days for my suburban paper route customers. The most disturbing thing was the lack of information about the game plan. Nobody seemed to know what was going to happen which seemed very surreal in that otherwise well-planned era. By contrast, today we're accustomed to surprises.
At that time my parents were returning from an out-of-state trip and were unaware of the situation. They were surprised to be stopped by an armed National Guard soldier on [[I think) I-94. He advised them not to leave the freeway until out of Detroit.
Preemptive disclaimer: We were always taught to never think badly of Detroiters [[or anyone else). The sincerely-held sentiment of our family at that time was sorrow for the many innocent victims of that violence in the mother city. It never had to happen. :[[
Thank's for all the personal observations & memories of the '67 Detroit Riot. I'm sorry that I injected Race into this thread, even though I mentioned it, I never intended it to get some people angry. Let's face it, there are Black people that don't like White people, there are White people that don't like Black people. Arguing on this Forum will not change that! I have White friends & I have Black friends, but the most important part of that statement is I have friends, not because they are Black, not because they are White, but because they are my friends! If more people felt that way, then maybe we wouldn't have had a Riot in 1967 to talk about!!!!
carlscomputers, no need to appologise. Its a subject that needs to be talked about, its not something people should forget, or pretty up. It was a devestating event that people need to be aware of. You can't get away from the topic of race when talking about the riot. I think what's important is people DO think like you now, and we're all better for it. Its hard to talk about race in this case without people getting upset and why? EVERONE in Detroit lost that battle. And that's understandable. All races will point fingers, all will be offended even if they know accusations are correct. But what counts is everyone understands that its the past, and the past is always an excelent tool in defining your future.
We were living in Summit, New Jersey. I was 7 years old. The focus there was the riots in Newark, NJ. I remember seeing the news reports on TV and being worried about my Dad who worked in Newark. After about that period, his office was moved to NYC.
I was 13 and living in South Jersey. I recall seeing segments on the evening news about the riots and my dad having plenty of racially offensive comments [[as he did about the Newark and Plainfield riots in NJ). It was after I moved here in '78 I found out that the event was seared into the memory of anyone who lived in the area at the time. One of my first friends here grew up in East Dearborn and remembered the Dearborn Police patrolling the border with Detroit.
Earlier today, Sunday, I was reading this thread and was reminded of comments made by the Prince at the end of Romeo and Juliet. He criticized the foolishness that cost the two antagonistic houses so much and himself for not interceding. The thought was a bit too esoteric so I didn't post it after looking up the quote.
We have had flooding problems in the last couple of days, where I am, so I agreed to take my wife to an art fair to put problems behind for a few hours. Walking around an art fair is, after all, more fun than rescuing stranded cattle twice, picking up debris, and digging trenches to drain fetid water. We went our own ways at the art fair. I had a strange conversation with a photographer who gave me two postcards he had for sale but who asked me to leave when we started talking about Vietnam because he was getting too emotional remembering the costs. I then ran into my wife who wanted to show me a drawing of Shakespeare - of all people. I hadn't mentioned anything to her about Shakespeare so this was coincidence. The artist had already packed up his Shakespeare drawing but he brought it out and I told him about the coincidence of having looked up that particular quote and being taken to see a Shakespeare drawing in the same day. To my surprise, he knew the passage and recited it. So I thought that perhaps this was worth sharing. Think of the Montagues and Capulets as being two races who antagonize and destroy each other and the Prince as being the Mayor and others who had the power to stamp this thing out but instead allowed it to go on.
The Prince:
“Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!
See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.
And I for winking at your discords too
Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.”
Detroit has been punished for it's hate. We've all been punished.
Thank You Oladub for sharing! I have gotten so much passion, knowledge, etc. from this thread & your post is so fitting...
I was 7 years old at the time of the riots. My family had just moved from the east side, living with my grandmother, to the west side. I remember my Mom talking on the phone with her Mom and mentioning a "race riot". I knew something bad was happening but could not put my finger on it. Hearing the word "race" and running my imagination, I envisioned revelers tearing up a city to conduct some kind of race.
Later on, the event became apparent when we visited my Grandma and stood on the porch with my brother and sister watching the National guard pass by in their vehicles and waving to them, thinking "this was different".
My Dad worked downtown at the Greyhound bus terminal and shortly after the violence subsided he drove our family down 12th street to see the damage. It was a surreal scene I won't ever forget and it really left an impression on me as a kid.
To this day, I am fascinated at the history of this unfortunate event and even ended up working with a former National guradsman when I was 35 who was sent into the middle of the most dangerous areas.
For all of Detroit's troubles and history, I will always be proud to call it my hometown and I pray that it will rise again to it's former glory.
I was 12 and we lived in Wayne. My dad hauled cars out of the Ford plants and he was away - I am not sure what state he was in but far enough that he couldn't get home in a hurry. He called home and told us to go stay with family out of state. Of course, nothing was going on in Wayne. But it did scare my dad. I do remember we could not buy gas. We stayed at the house and that was that.
The lake itself is stilled called Union Lake, but the surrounding community has been changed into Commerce, White Lake, West Bloomfield, & Waterford Townships depending on where you are. This was done when the Union Lake post office was closed by USPS in the early 1990s. Some businesses were able to keep their Union Lake name & address for identity purposes, but for the most part Union Lake is gone.
I don't know how many of you are aware that there were previous race riots in Detroit, but here is an article from the Detroit News about the 1943 riots. In many ways, this was a worse incident than the 1967 ones.
Here's a direct quote from the below linked article:
http://apps.detnews.com/apps/history/index.php?id=185Quote:
Five black men received 80-day jail terms for disturbing the peace. Two were acquitted. Twenty-eight were charged and convicted on various charges including concealed weapons, destruction of property, assault, larceny. There was little arson, due to gasoline rationing, but more than a few cars were overturned and torched.
Tipton and Little, the two blacks linked to the original rumor, were sentenced to two-to-five years for inciting a riot.
The city's white police force was criticized for its "restraint" in dealing with the black rioters, despite the fact that only blacks -- 17 of them -- were killed by police.
From The Detroit News: http://apps.detnews.com/apps/history...#ixzz0unpuizmu
I had already left the Detroit area and was living and working in upstate NY when I learned of the riots. My parents were still alive and living in the downriver area. I decided to come home to visit and try to calm them. I recall vividly exiting the tunnel and after the customs check the officer saying, "don't you know there's a riot going on?" Of course I did. I recall getting on the Edsel Ford doing ~ 90 mph. There wasn't a car in sight. There were no problems downriver and by the time I left to return to NY it was all over. I never had a good realization of the causes. It would be a few years later when I hear Gordon Lightfoot's recording 'Black Day in July.' I had a better idea of what happened and why.
Lived Downriver and was 12 when the riots started. My mom kept us home from school, not sure if school was shut down or just her fears, as she was in the riots in 1943 when she was a kid. We drove over to my Grandma's house where my Aunt and Uncle also lived in Dearborn just a block or so from the Detroit border and the first thing I seen when I walked in the house was a shotguy right by the door. My uncle said with a smile that he was waiting for a carload of them to come down the street. That has always stuck out in my mind, what he said and the smile he had on his face.
Most of us who were there would rather forget that time period. I lived at Mack and Beaubien and had an E.ticket for the entire fiasco. I worked in health care at the time and remain amazed at the continung claim that "only" 40 some individuals lost their lives due to the riot/uprising/rebellion. The 'riot deaths' were those due to trauma caused by obvious murder or arson. Those who were killed when hit by cars, had heart attacks, didn't get to the hospital for logistical reasons, etc. were not classified as such. Eugene Methvin has written on the riots and it is worth a read. old.nationalreview.com/flashback/flashback200509011316.asp
There were two weeks of tanks on the streets with soldiers everywhere. Those of us who considered ourselves Detroiters forever abandoned that dream that month of July, 1967. I have heard many say that it was only a minor reason for the decline of the city; do not believe that. When you were there and saw what transpired, you knew Detroit was doomed to a gloomy future. I left three years later and although my memories of growing up in Detroit remain happy, I have never regretted what some may say was abandoning the city. I disagree, the city I grew up in abandoned all of us.
River rat
I was born in 1969. My grandparents always had a pantry in the basement with like 10 cans of every kind of food. We were cleaning up the house a couple of years ago after my grandma died and my mom said something about "all that riot food". Turns out my grandparents got caught high and dry with no reserves during the riot and ever since then they stocked up on food like crazy.
I was a SP4 in the US Army at Ft. Rucker AL, Lock down mode, all leaves canceled, given riot training and was perpared to be shipped to a city of the army's choosing on a moments notice.
I was half way through a government sponsored trip to SEA. Never have understood the riots. Angry that a blind pig was busted? Well . . . just step outside your home `and throw a match into it - what a deal. I don't think that anyone will argue that the riot was the beginning in the rapid decline of Detroit and Coleman finished it off. I visited a few weeks ago enroute to Traverse City for vacation, drove around my old neighborhood - Haverhill & Harper,and I wanted to cry - what a bloody mess! I've been to a lot of places during my 20 years in the army, but I've never felt as vulnerable than the couple of hours in Detroit I spent in Motown.
Who suffered more from the riot: blacks or whites?
It seems to me that the riot did more long-term harm to the black community than it did to the whites who moved off to better lives in the suburbs. The black community may have succeeded in driving the white "oppressors" from "their" city, but what did that leave them with? Arguably a more poverty-stricken and crime-infested city than they inherited in '67.
The excuse for the riot starting was the raid of the blind pig. It started long before that. There were groups in town in advance of July that were here to specifically incite trouble, as well as years of discrimination against minorities. If the blind pig hadn't been raided, something else would have tipped it.
The entire U.S. was a tinderbox waiting for a flint at that time.
I hate to inform you of this but that statement in and of itslef lets you know where your Uncles mind was at and how they thought on a regualr basis before and AFTER the riot...Quote:
My uncle said with a smile that he was waiting for a carload of them to come down the street. That has always stuck out in my mind, what he said and the smile he had on his face.
That was the summer between 1st and 2nd grade for me so memories are fairly vague. We lived near Grand River and Grenfield. I do remember seeing the trucks and tanks going by, seeing the national guard over at St Marys of Redford church one afternoon, and being in the backyard at night and not being able to go out front like we usually did to play with the neighborhood kids. I've heard that there was some looting and/or vandalism that went on over by the Grand River/Greenfield shopping center, though nothing beyond that [[no fires or shooting). I think that the guard was placed on top of some of the stores there.
My father had a shoe store on Gratiot at Van Dyke. Days after the riots when he finally came back to see the damage, the display windows had been shattered. On one of those displays where an expensive pair of Florsheims had sat, somebody took those and replaced them with their old bloody footwear. He couldn't help but laugh that they had taken the time to mount them correctly on the display as if those shoes were for sale.