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No, I'm not being derogatory but I do believe that it is insulting to anyone's intelligence to support the notion that people rioted, burned, and looted simply because a blind pig was raided or the whole purpose of the riot was to steal.
Police raided a blind pig were there was a party for servicemen who had gone to war and fought for this country and had returned home safely, I believe that the entire incident could have been handled differently had the police had any respect for black people or if the people were white.
Could everyone had been ticketed? why did over 80 people have to be jailed for taking part in a servicemans return home?
The start was not the raid on the blind pig, the raid was just the straw that broke the camel's back, and was the point where all the differing forces converged to create a riot, rebellion, uprising, etc.
How did the riots affect me personally?
I lived on rochester st and saw the dexter area go up in flames smelled the smoke and heard the gunfire. I remember a Detroit police officer calling my mother a "black bi#ch" and pointing a gun at her because she refused to go in the house and instead stated she was staying on her porch to protect her children.
My brother Calvin Chavers was beat so bad by police while coming home from work that we thought he would die and were told that no one could take him to the hospital( we had no car, we depended on the bus to get around) I remember he was never the same person after that.
As I stated earlier I was only a child during this time but I remember so this day the apprehension I felt eventhough I did not know exactly why I was afraid. I did hear my mother and the other families talking about what was going on and what was rumored to be happening to any black person caught on the street.
One account of the blind pig raid:
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Robert Conot's chapter on the start of the riot in his "American Odyssey":
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quote:
On the night of Saturday, July 22, 1967, the Tenth Precinct “cleanup squad” consisting of Sergeant Arthur Howison and three patrolmen was cruising along Twelfth Street. The cleanup squad was the precinct equivalent of the headquarters “vice squad”—throughout the police department there tends to be an overlapping and duplication of functions between the precinct and the more prestigious “downtown.” The vice and cleanup squads were supposed to control gambling, prostitution, illegal liquor operations, and after-hours, unlicensed “blind pigs.” Officers on the vice detail were expected to close down a reasonable number of blind pigs every month. They knew that if they didn’t, they would be returned to a regular beat. Violators who were arrested were fined one hundred dollars, and the next week would be back in business. Some had been arrested as many as thirty or forty times in the revolving-door process.
The day had been warm, humid, and smoggy, and Twelfth Street—”The Strip”—was teeming with people. Miniskirted prostitutes, dope pushers, the syndicate man who provided juice (a loan for criminal activity), the armed robber who had just knocked off a cab driver—all blended into the swirl. At the corner of Twelfth Street and Clairmount was a nondescript building that housed the Economy Printing Company on the first floor, and above it the United Civic League for Community Action. The police had known the United Civic League for Community Action to be the front for a blind pig ever since it had been chartered a year and a half before. Sergeant Howison had raided it the first time in February, 1966. Repeatedly, thereafter, various members of the Tenth Precinct cleanup squad had attempted to gain entrance. The rival vice squad, however, had staged the next successful raid, on June 3, 1967, less than two months previously.
At 10:30 P.M. on July 22, a half hour after the squad left the precinct station to begin its night’s work, Patrolman Charles Henry knocked on the door of the blind pig, but was refused admittance as “unknown” and suspect—he didn’t have a woman with him, he was fairly young, well dressed, and in good physical condition; all of which meant that he might be a cop. For the next five hours the four plainclothes officers busied themselves checking other tips. Usually officers on vice details knocked off about 3 AM, to return to the station and write their reports. That was the procedure followed by several other officers who had successfully busted four blind pigs during the night. But before going back to the station, Patrolman Henry told Sergeant Howison he thought he might be able to gain entry now.
At 3:34 A.M. vigilance at the blind pig had wilted, and Henry was able to walk in behind three women. Ten minutes after Henry had gone inside—time enough for him to have bought a drink—Sergeant Howison radioed for the Tenth Precinct cruiser. (Another squad car also responded.) He then ordered the door of the blind pig smashed with a sledgehammer. Once inside, the police discovered the place was being used to hold a party for servicemen, two of whom had recently returned from Vietnam. Sergeant Howison had expected to find a score of people at most, but instead he discovered eighty-two! Sergeant Howison called for a paddy wagon to take them to the station.
Over an hour and four paddy wagon trips were required to remove everyone. Police Commissioner Ray Girardin was well aware that on The Strip “you can blow a whistle at three o’clock in the morning and get two thousand people on the street.” On a balmy Saturday night there was still a good deal of vehicular traffic. Cars stopped. People drifted out of all-night eating places. They looked out of their windows and came down from their apartments. About two hundred spectators gathered. Many of their comments were jocular and the mood was not “ugly.” But, inevitably, as people were herded into the paddy wagon, some were jostled by the police. A college student kept shouting: Mother****ers! Leave my people alone!” The rumor spread that the police had manhandled a woman. There was a general air of resentment against police vice activity—an activity that was looked upon by the black community as being directed discriminatorily against Negroes. As the last police car left the scene at five o’clock, an empty bottle smashed against its rear window. A litter basket was heaved through the window of a store. Rocks were thrown. In a few minutes the police returned to the area. A lieutenant was struck by a brick.
Within fifteen minutes all of the officials in the department were notified. At twenty minutes past five the telephone rang at Girardin’s home, and he was told. By six thirty burglar alarms set off by broken windows were awakening residents of a half dozen blocks on Twelfth Street, and police officials were gathering at the musty police headquarters on Beaubien Street. Ten minutes later the Tactical Mobile Unit, the first formed in the country for just such an emergency, mobilized some of its eighty men. The night shift was held over, and the day shift for all of the West Side precincts was called to duty an hour and a half early. (They were due at 8 A.M.) It was the two hundred sixty-sixth anniversary of the day on which Cadillac had first stepped ashore on de trois; but by nightfall, July 23 would be better established as The Day of the Blind Pig.
As was implied by some that I support looting and other criminal behavior, no I NEVER said or implied that I supported looting, I did state that there were opportunist both black and white of a criminal element that participated for the sole purpose of material gain. HOWEVER, I still say that the conditions that the society at large imposed on minorities during that time ultimately contributed to many people finally getting to the point where the fell there's no other way for their voices to be heard.
Blacks knew the treatment they could receive at the hands of those who were charged with the job of keeping the public peace but they got tired of hearing things like this:
Early on the morning of July 26, 1967, a large section of Detroit was rioting and being patrolled by heavily armed city policemen, state troopers, and National Guardsmen. A National Guard unit heard some shots and thought they were sniper fire from the Algiers Motel. Guardsmen, state troopers, and city policemen rushed the building. Inside they found no guns, but they did find ten black men of varying ages and two young white women. Soon three of the black men were dead and the other occupants badly beaten. One of the dead men had his face beaten off, one eye beaten out of his head, and one arm nearly severed by buckshot. NIH: The Algiers Motel Incident
We have to be honest and in my opinion some things were systematically done to many people untill they just felt they had enough.
I believe many whites resented any move that elevated the general status and welfare of blacks. If you disagree please say so I will listen.
They faced a criminal justice system that was overly harsh and prejudicial, police that could shoot with impunity, and being over charged while living in the worse housing stock in the city.
The Ravitz brothers overly harsh? Judge Delrio overly harsh? George Crocket, overly harsh?
In reading the Free Press series, and just in talking to people, black and white, family members, friends and strangers over the past few decades, I've heard and read of quite a few black families talking about their nice, stable pre-riot neighborhoods, either mixed, or at least the type of neighborhood where you could leave your doors unlocked at night.
How did they get there? The way you tell it, all blacks BC (before Coleman), lived in Paradise Valley due to racist mortgage bankers and redlining.
Someone who smashes a window and loots a store is a criminal. They were criminals in New Orleans and they were criminals in Detroit, no matter their race and no matter their motivation.
During the Detroit riots of 1967, I was a member of the Coast Guard Station on Belle Isle. I was a 20-year-old Seaman. Our station had a crew of 15. Each night, the Officer in Charge and 7 crew-members went home. Seven members stayed overnight - boat coxswains, engineers, and non-rated boat seamen. The station was adjacent to the Detroit River. A chain link fence surrounded the other three sides of the station. However, there was no gate. A chain covered the gateway. A sign hung from it: "Keep out by direction of the Commandant." Anybody could step across it or crouch under it.
A large crowd gathered outside the fence. The Officer Of The Day, a First Class Petty Officer (equal to an Army Staff Sergeant), opened the armory and distributed weapons to us. In addition to bedding and basketballs, the armory had three M-1 rifles, three .45 caliber pistols, one .22 caliber pistol that looked like a .45, a double-barrel shotgun that somebody had left there, 24 bayonets (for three rifles), 12 nightsticks, and more Shore Patrol armbands than our full crew could wear. There was a box of plastic helmet liners painted white. A recruiter had stuck on decals that said, "If you have what it takes, take the Coast Guard." As I put on my helmet, I thought the decal might send the wrong message to the crowd. I put a five-bullet clip into the rifle and affixed a long chrome bayonet. I knew the Army had newer M-16 rifles with fully automatic fire.
We ran a 40-foot patrol boat out of the slip and tied it to the sea wall behind the station. The twin engines were left running.
The front door of the station faced the driveway. The back door of the station faced the sea wall. There was a small porch with three steps at the front of the station. We assembled on the steps with our plastic "come and get us" helmets and our shore patrol armbands. Three men stood on the lowest step, holding .45 caliber pistols against the side of a leg. Three men stood on the top step, holding M-1 rifles with affixed bayonets. Our First Class Boatswain's Mate stood beside the steps, holding the shotgun. Our front door was propped open. We were told, "If they cross the chain and rush us, everybody fire once, retreat down the hall to the back door, jump on the boat, and move into the river." We were told not to fire until the First Class Boatswain's Mate directed us to do so.
The Boatswain's Mate used a bullhorn to shout to the crowd that they must stay out of the property and that we had regular station personnel inside in addition to the security force outside. We did not. We were the regular station personnel.
After about thirty minutes of standoff, three Detroit Police tanks swept in front from the East, the direction of the Army Nike Site. They were blue steel armored vehicles with three huge rubber tires on each side. There were gun ports. The Police tank crew pushed the crowd west.
The Detroit Harbormaster Police patrolled the island by car and boat. Our missing crew-members reported to the Harbormaster Police and were brought by boat to the station as they trickled in. Although we continued to see crowds of people, no one attempted to enter our station. We maintained a 24-hour guard. No one got liberty to go home for about 7-10 days.
Within days of the riot's declared end, I was transferred to a school at Great Lakes Naval Training Center.
Last edited by LinkinMall; 04-04-2008 at 11:47 PM..
Reason: spelling errors
The 1967 riot was a riot. "Rebellion" is just revisionist history. Detroit's riot of 1967 would have happened in 1966 if it wasn't for thundershowers during the "Kercheval Incident". There was also a mini riot on Livernois around that time after a bar owner shot a car thief.
As usual the Detroit media is full of crap. Of all the people who were around during the riot, they were getting quotes from people who are 45 years old now. That would make them 5 years old at the time of the riot and they're pontificating like they remembered it as if it happened yesterday. Typical nonsense.
You know... just because someone was five years old when the riots happened doesn't mean it didn't effect them. I was five at the time, and I was very confused about what was happening. It was very traumatic, and it still is when I visit the old house I lived in at the time of the riots. We also slept in the basement and had tanks rolling down our street, and had a bullet shot through our back door. If it weren't for the riots we would probably not have sold our family home (where my mother grew up) and moved out of the city. That was my home and my neighborhood that I loved and I can't help but be a tad bitter about people coming in to settle some old score that I had nothing to do with, and burn down what was my secure place where I would have been very happy to have stayed and grown up in...yeah I may have been five at the time but the riots have influenced my whole life. I lost my innocence and sense of security at that time. Not my choice...just so you know!
You know... just because someone was five years old when the riots happened doesn't mean it didn't effect them. I was five at the time, and I was very confused about what was happening. It was very traumatic, and it still is when I visit the old house I lived in at the time of the riots. We also slept in the basement and had tanks rolling down our street, and had a bullet shot through our back door. If it weren't for the riots we would probably not have sold our family home (where my mother grew up) and moved out of the city. That was my home and my neighborhood that I loved and I can't help but be a tad bitter about people coming in to settle some old score that I had nothing to do with, and burn down what was my secure place where I would have been very happy to have stayed and grown up in...yeah I may have been five at the time but the riots have influenced my whole life. I lost my innocence and sense of security at that time. Not my choice...just so you know!
I am sorry for your loss. I know what it feels like to lose innocence because I went back to my old apartment complex to see how it turned out. The road I grew up on is now a post-mortem dump. The minute I saw grafitti I took a taxi out of there. Although it wasn't hit by a riot, that area is not a place I could ever live in again. When people are angry, they aren't going to care whether or not they affect someone else because the attitude is "My life is crap and I'm going down the loo, so it doesn't matter to me how someone else feels about it."
You know... just because someone was five years old when the riots happened doesn't mean it didn't effect them.
THE POINT WAS!!! what did you as a five year old understand about the politics and culture at the time? What was the perspective of you, a person in a blind pig, during a raid? What was the perspective of you, a business owner the victim of theft? What was the perspective of you, a person committing theft?
Your opinion doesn't matter, as a person on the ground during the riot any more than it does as a person on the ground during the Revolution.
I didn't understand any of it back then, but I'm 46 now and I've done research in my life. I know all about the blind pig raid, in fact I wrote a paper about the events leading up to the riots in college. I just believe it was senseless. Tell me, what was accomplished by it? All I see is destroyed neighborhoods where no one wants to live, no jobs, no schools, nothing going on. The people that are stuck there for whatever reason...what hope do they have? They can thank their "old school" relatives for the situation they're in now. I never understood why people would want to destroy their own homes, and rob their own businesses. We live in a society where you either adapt and conform or you may have problems. I didn't decide that, that's just the way it is. When you look at the big picture, how the riots affected me personally doesn't amount to a hill of beans. So what, I can still state my opinion.
Sure you can, and I take no issue with you doing so. However, you responded to another post ignoring the point. Now, you sound like you're backing the point you were initially taking issue with.
Who destroyed their own home and robbed their own business? Name one person.
Every citizen has a vested interest in the property of their city. In this respect, all property within the limits is "theirs." With this in mind, every person who participated in the riot and is a citizen destroyed their own property.
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