Trailer for documentary on cop bombing of Philly activists

[8bitagent]

A lot of people for obvious reasons in civics lessons continually bring up Kent State, where four college students were killed by state troops. Others bring up
Waco. A few bring up the FBI informant lead killing of 60's civil rights activists. But one event I don't hear brought up that often, which perhaps is the most
in your face and shocking of all of these events was the city of Philadelphia dropping military explosives on a row of houses occupied by black civil rights activists
in 1985. Not the 20's, 30's, 40's, 50's, 60's or even 70's. But 1985 this happened. 11 killed, five of whom where children, many others hurt as well as some killed in separate other incidents.

[Wombaticus Rex]

Yeah, I first saw this on a VHS dub of a documentary that came long before this one. Wish I could recall the name.

Still: as long as we're talking "civics lessons" -- do you really think "black activists" is the best appellation for a group that had previously been involved in shootouts in downtown Philadelphia?

[IanEye]

In 1985, [MOVE] made national news when police dropped a bomb on the Osage house from a helicopter in an attempt to end an armed standoff. The explosion ignited a fire in which 11 people died, including five children and the group's leader, John Africa. Only two occupants survived, Ramona, an adult and Birdie, a child. In addition, 65 homes were destroyed as the entire block burned.

http://www.philly.com/philly/news/93137669.html

[beeline]

I remember those hearings, they were broadcast on the local PBS station, and every day, you'd hear people say, "He said what?"

[beeline]

http://www.philly.com/philly/news/20130926_Michael_Ward___Birdie_Africa___dies_in_hot_tub_on_cruise_ship_at_age_41.html


Michael Ward, 'Birdie Africa,' dies in hot tub on cruise ship at age 41


Michael Moses Ward, 41, formerly known as Birdie Africa, one of the two survivors of the 1985 MOVE bombing, died Friday aboard a cruise ship in the Atlantic, officials said.

Ward was found unconscious in a hot tub Friday morning aboard the Carnival Dream, said Craig Engelson, an investigator for the Brevard County Medical Examiner's Office. Ward's body was taken from the ship to Port Canaveral, Fla.

The medical examiner's office said the death appeared to be an accidental drowning. Toxicology results are expected in about six weeks, the office said.

Friends said Ward, who became an iconic figure in the MOVE disaster, was vacationing with relatives.

On the evening of May 13, 1985, after a daylong armed confrontation with MOVE members, police dropped a satchel of explosives onto the radical group's fortified rowhouse of the radical group at 6221 Osage Ave. in West Philadelphia.

The explosion sparked a blaze that city officials allowed to burn.

When the fire was out, 61 homes were destroyed and 11 people, including five children were dead.

Ward, who ran naked from the burning MOVE compound, was the only child to survive the bombing, and Ramona Africa, the only adult. His mother, Rhonda Africa, was among those killed in the siege.

The image of Birdie Africa, age 13, who was hauled to safety by two police officers, remains iconic after nearly 30 years.

The incident left Ward with lifelong burn scars on his abdomen, arms and face, and Philadelphia with a global reputation as the city that bombed its own people.

He had no contact with MOVE from then on.

Michael Ward was born on Dec. 19, 1971. His original name was Olewolffe (Arabic for Prince) Ward, he said. He became Birdie Africa after his parents split up and his mother joined MOVE. It was only after the disaster, when he went to live with his father, that be became Michael Moses Ward.

In a 1995 interview with The Inquirer, Ward spoke of his life with MOVE, of being forced to live on a diet of raw vegetables and fruit while the adults ate hearty cooked meals, of being denied schooling and neighborhood playmates, of stealing toys and burying them in the MOVE compound.

"I'm still afraid of them, of MOVE," he said in 1995. "Some of the things that went on there I can't get out of my head, bad things, things I haven't told anybody except my father.

"But I'll tell you this: I didn't like being there. They said it was a family, but a family isn't something where you are forced to stay when you don't want to. And none of us wanted to stay, none of the kids. We were always planning ways to run away, but we were too little. We didn't know how to get away. And we were scared."

But that was the life he had always known. His earliest memories, he said, were of growing up at a MOVE commune in Virginia.

He said his mother tried to leave MOVE, but threats to her and him made that impossible. Instead, they lived in fear of everything: police, the neighborhood, MOVE founder John Africa, and anything else that came their way.

"The only regret I have is about me being hurt and my mom dying and the other kids," he said. "I feel bad for the people who died, but I don't have any anger toward anybody. See, I got out."

In a 2005 interview with the Inquirer, Ward reflected on the MOVE disaster.

"I think about it from time to time, but I don't dwell on it," Ward said.

His father, Andino Ward, changed the boy's name to Michael Moses Ward in 1986.

Ward lived with his father in Lansdale from 1986 to 1992. He played fullback and cornerback for the North Penn High School football team.

He came a long way, considering that it took years of rehabilitation to patch up the second- and third-degree burns that covered 20 percent of his body. It took longer to reintegrate him into normal society. He had never spent a day in school when his father registered him for special-education classes.

After graduating from North Penn, he married and had a daughter and a son. Ward divorced in 2005. He lived in Newark, Del., for many years.

In 1991, Ward and his father reached a settlement with the administration of then Mayor W. Wilson Goode Sr., which paid them $840,000 up front, with each receiving $1,000 per month for life.

Ward served in the Army from 1997 to 2001. He was stationed in Florida, North Carolina and Germany, earning the rank of sergeant. Ward said he served as an Army cameraman and videographer, making military training videos.

He later became a long-distance trucker, driving an 18-wheeler along the Northeast corridor from Maine to Virginia. He also worked as a barber in his spare time, cutting friends' hair. He said he earned his barber's license after high school.

Ward, who described himself as a Christian who eschewed organized religion, said that, despite his successes, his life had been difficult.

"The thing that helps me is I have a drive to better myself," he said.

When asked in 2005 what he saw himself doing in 10 years, he saw better times.

"Hopefully, I will be retired. I want to own my own business and watch my kids grow up. I want to retire when I'm 45," he said.


Read more at http://www.philly.com/philly/news/20130 ... pWPhkqW.99

[8bitagent]

Most prominent African American drowning in a manmade pool since Rodney King was found dead in a pool....4444 days after the infamous incident

[Luther Blissett]

The MOVE block, all hastily rebuilt in blocky tan post-modern homes (which for whatever reason remind me of True Stories), is in serious disrepair. Most houses are boarded up and the block is pretty much abandoned. The city never really made an effort to follow-through on upkeep, and the original construction was all pretty much bottom-of-the-barrel.

Lynne Abraham the child killer still wields influence in this city.

[beeline]

The MOVE block, all hastily rebuilt in blocky tan post-modern homes (which for whatever reason remind me of True Stories), is in serious disrepair. Most houses are boarded up and the block is pretty much abandoned. The city never really made an effort to follow-through on upkeep, and the original construction was all pretty much bottom-of-the-barrel.

Lynne Abraham the child killer still wields influence in this city.

Yeah the Goode administration really fucked that neighborhood over, first they burnt it down, then they hired crony-contractors that did nothing but shoddy workmanship. Finally had to pay the residents to leave:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=126783534


MOVE Fire Burdens Neighborhood, After 25 Years

by Elizabeth Fiedler
May 13, 2010

For Philadelphians, May 13 marks a 25th anniversary many would rather forget. The city is still haunted by the massive police operation aimed at rousting members of the radical group MOVE from their row house compound — an operation that led to a disastrous bombing and fire.

A Conflict That Built Over Time

The Philadelphia Police Department's assault on the MOVE compound in 1985 came after months of mounting tension.

MOVE was composed of African-Americans who practiced a cult-like back-to-nature lifestyle, took the last name of "Africa," and regularly brandished weapons.

In the months leading up to the 1985 confrontation, MOVE members fortified their West Philadelphia row house on Osage Avenue to withstand an armed assault, and tormented neighbors with profane tirades on bullhorns.

The day before the bombing, neighbors who lived next to the MOVE house were told to leave. Police were on high alert: An officer had been killed a few years earlier in a fatal confrontation with MOVE.

This time, police tried to drive the MOVE members out with tear gas — a move that led to a gunfight.

And then, just before 5:30 p.m., police dropped a satchel of explosives onto the roof. When they detonated, flames broke out.

Officials decided to let the resulting fire burn until a fortified bunker on the roof was gone — but the fire spread out of control, and it engulfed the entire block.

Bad News From Back Home

Thomas Mapp was on the road working as a truck driver when he heard what had happened to his block back in Philadelphia.

Mapp recalls listening to the radio for news about his neighborhood. "They said Osage burnt down, and I didn't believe it," he said. "I said, 'You can't burn no block down.' "
The 6200 block of Osage Avenue in Philadelphia

The 6200 block of Osage Avenue in Philadelphia is now quiet — partly due to a number of boarded-up houses.
Elizabeth Fiedler/WHYY

Connie Renfrow was one of the Osage Avenue residents who returned to her home after the bombing.

"There was nothing really there but the steps and the railing. Everything else was burnt down to the ground, all our memories," she said.

"What hurts so bad — even 25 years later, when I go to look for something I say, 'Oh right, that got burnt up ... it burnt up in the fire.' "

One adult and a 13-year-old boy from inside the MOVE house survived. Eleven others died — including five children.

Mapp didn't want to see the neighborhood right away.

"You see how bad it looked when they burnt it out? Ohhh. Especially when you didn't do nothing to cause it ... Then when you found out all them kids died, shoot, that's a real hard thing to take."

A blue ribbon panel concluded the police decision to bomb the house was reckless and ill-conceived.

Legacy Of A Tragic Afternoon

The nightmare has continued for the people who lived on the block. The city hired a contractor to rebuild the homes — and residents say they've had to deal with leaks and shoddy construction.

After 15 years of problems with the houses, the city offered families $150,000 to simply pick up and leave.

For the people who still live there, it's impossible to forget the anniversary: The boarded-up houses that fill the block are a daily reminder of the deadly disaster.

One 89-year old woman who lives on the block says that when it's time to mark the anniversary, she's going to stay inside and close her door. After 25 years, she said, she's tired of talking about it.

[Luther Blissett]

White America says “Let the Fire Burn”
What the Philadelphia firebombing of 1985 can tell us about the culture of white rage that led to the shutdown
BY ANDREW O'HEHIR

In Jason Osder’s disturbing and extraordinary new documentary “Let the Fire Burn,” which entirely consists of archival footage, we see a Philadelphia police officer named James Berghaier testify at a commission hearing about the events of May 13, 1985. That was when police dropped an incendiary device (a bomb, in plain English) on a rowhouse in West Philadelphia, igniting a massive fire that killed 11 people – five of them children – and destroyed 61 homes in a working-class neighborhood. Although it happened almost three decades ago, at a time of immense urban dysfunction in America, the Philadelphia MOVE bombing has a startlingly contemporary feeling, partly because it was one of the first all-day live news events, captured in extensive detail by numerous video cameras.

Most of the official testimony we see at the hearings is standard buck-passing and ass-covering, much of it either misinformed, misleading or flat-out false: Members of MOVE, the radical group inside the house, had started the violence; the six adults in the house were dangerous terrorists with automatic weapons (not true) and we had to proceed with caution; in dropping the bomb and letting the fire burn unchecked, we were simply doing what we were told. The police commissioner even says that he does not know whether the children in the house had fired on the police, and I suppose as a technical matter that must be true. He is not asked whether he finds that likely.

Berghaier’s testimony is quite different. The stone-faced police demeanor is missing; this young officer clearly feels conscience-stricken about what happened, and is visibly grieving. Of the hundreds of cops at the scene, he was the one who risked his life to save the only two MOVE members, an adult and a child, who made it out of that house on Osage Avenue. When asked by a commission member what he thought about during the assault on the house, Berghaier says he can’t really answer the question, then does so. “I thought a lot about those kids. I thought about my kids.” One member of the commission, an African-American man, praises him as a hero and one of the few bright spots of that whole terrible episode. After his testimony was over, Berghaier went back to work, and found a racial slur written on his locker. He quit the force soon thereafter.

Welcome to America, people, where the past, as Faulkner famously observed, is not even past. That wrenching story of hope and hatred from 28 years ago hit me especially hard in this year of white rage and white derangement, the year of George Zimmerman and Paula Deen and a government shutdown engineered entirely by a small group of congressmen who represent a lily-white, neo-Confederate nation within a nation. Half a century of evil and insidious racial politicking has brought us to this point of right-wing wish-fulfillment apocalypse, along with the profoundly racist congressional gerrymander of 2010 and the creeping fear among many white Americans that the country they thought they understood – thought they owned — has been yanked out from under their feet.

Statistics and recent electoral history paint a deceptive picture of an increasingly diverse society that mostly appears harmonious, despite worsening economic inequality: White births are now a minority, the white majority population continues to shrink toward 50 percent, and a moderate biracial Democrat has been comfortably elected president twice, winning several previously conservative states. But a great many white people, more than anyone really wants to admit, find these facts profoundly troubling. They have been pandered to for generations by conservative politicians who assured them that their mythological vision of a white-picket-fence, exurban America was more authentic than anyone else’s. I remember covering George H.W. Bush on the campaign trail in 1992 – the son of a senator and Wall Street banker, raised in Greenwich, Conn., and educated at Phillips Andover and Yale – when his stump speech included lines about “rural America, real America.”

Of course “real America” hasn’t been rural since the 19th century, and white panic about the changing nature of American society goes clear back to “No Irish Need Apply,” the “gentleman’s agreement” that barred Jews from elite universities and the housing covenants that prevented black families from moving to the suburbs even in states where there was never legal segregation. (F. Scott Fitzgerald specifically mocks this racial paranoia in the character of Tom Buchanan in “The Great Gatsby,” published in 1925.) Every time we suppress that stuff in American life, it comes boiling back up in a different form, and the government shutdown strikes me as a long-delayed sequel to Pickett’s Charge, a self-appointed and doomed crusade on behalf of White America, flipping the multicultural usurpers the double-handed bird as it burns down the house. It would almost be noble, if it weren’t evil and pathetic and damaging.

As my colleague Joan Walsh has repeatedly observed, the racial subtext of American politics in 2013 – and hell, it’s the text, not a subtext – is impossible to miss, but every time you bring it up you get lambasted by the right as a race-baiter. I got a similarly overheated response a few weeks ago when I wrote a column about the racially coded public discourse, especially on the right, surrounding the bankruptcy of Detroit and the post-Katrina problems of New Orleans, which to my mind was making pretty obvious points. Literally hundreds of people wrote in to remind me that those cities had primarily been governed by black Democrats, as if local elected officials had anything to do with the cultural and economic questions I was talking about (and as if I had some interest in protecting the Democratic Party). If you really believe that old-school racist vitriol has been banished from the public sphere, by the way, you haven’t been reading the comments on those articles, or any on dozens of others about racial topics published on our site this year.

Of course it’s not sufficient to describe the government shutdown and the hysterical attack on Obamacare as exclusively a matter of racial animus, any more than one can describe the MOVE firebombing in those terms. Philadelphia had a black mayor at the time, Wilson Goode, who presumably could have ordered an end to the disastrous confrontation at any time but had vowed to clear MOVE from that house and didn’t want to look weak. (It was Goode who uttered the phrase that gives Osder’s film its title, and he might as well order it engraved on his tombstone.) MOVE’s neighbors, who were mostly black, definitely wanted the group out, although it’s safe to conclude they didn’t want an entire city block’s worth of family homes incinerated in the process. At any rate it’s silly to pretend that the election of one African-American politician somehow neutralized the poisonous history of policing and race relations in Philadelphia, or dismantled the deeply ingrained attitudes that led the cops to treat a tiny radical sect – who despite their angry rhetoric had little or no actual weaponry – like an entrenched battalion of Viet Cong guerrillas.

If anything, Mayor Goode’s election likely galvanized a semi-conscious backlash among the predominantly white police department and other traditional power centers in Philadelphia, a phenomenon quite similar to what we see today on a national scale. It’s important to say, as Joan has done, that most white people in America, including the most hardcore Southern Republicans, are no longer “racist” in the old-fashioned sense of the word. Indeed, they are not racist at all, as they understand the term. They do not don bedsheets and go to Klavern meetings; they do not call for segregated public bathrooms, seek to ban interracial marriage or preach the genetic inferiority of blacks. Those views endure, and not just among isolated white-supremacist whack jobs, but it is no longer acceptable to express them, even in private.

So nearly all conservatives will continue to insist that there is no racism implicated in the politics of the shutdown, because they’re so steeped in it they can’t even see it. One of our two political parties has been kidnapped by zealots who appear willing to wage a self-destructive and even suicidal war against a half-baked half-measure to provide health insurance for most (but by no means all) uninsured Americans, a plan in large part devised by the man who was that party’s most recent presidential nominee. That plan has variously been compared to the 9/11 attacks, to slavery and to Soviet Communism; it was evidently hatched in hell by Satan and Joseph Stalin, rather than in Boston and Washington by Mitt Romney and a bunch of insurance executives.

It isn’t an accident, as Joan has observed, that this plan abruptly seemed to change character once it was appropriated by our first black president. The interests of the GOP’s corporate power base and its Ayn Randian free-marketeers, which are often in conflict, suddenly coalesced with the 50-year Republican strategy to depict the federal government as “an oppressor that works primarily as the protector of and provider for African-Americans, to the detriment of everyone else.” Republicans have carefully fed and nurtured this sense of racial grievance among the white working class, leading to pollster Stanley Greenberg’s famous analysis that suburban whites in a previously Democratic county in Michigan saw government “as a black domain where whites cannot expect reasonable treatment.” That was 30 years ago, by the way, around the same time as the MOVE atrocity.

Remember all that breast-beating within the Republican Party after Mitt Romney’s defeat, when Karl Rove’s all-white path to victory had been exposed as a sham and everybody was saying the party had to reach out to Asians and Latinos or risk electoral irrelevance? Well, never mind. First of all, Ted Cruz! Mission accomplished. More important, the white-pride caucus of the all-white party, the Tea Party congressmen from apartheid America, have fought back with a vengeance. They have grasped (or understood all along) that the GOP has an ironclad congressional majority until at least 2020, and that they don’t need the White House – or any nonwhite support at all — in order to control the political agenda.

John Boehner and Mitch McConnell and Karl Rove and the other so-called Beltway pragmatists of the Republican Party have relied on angry white people for political victories for decades. They placated them and pandered to them and fed them an extensive line of bullshit, and absolutely could not afford to alienate them, but were scared of them the whole time. (Many Republican operatives will tell you, way off the record, that the Republican base is crazy.) Now those white insurrectionists have risen up and taken their former leaders prisoner, which carries a certain poetic justice. They “want their country back.” Failing that, they want to let the fire burn.

“Let the Fire Burn” is now playing at Film Forum in New York. It opens Oct. 18 at the Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago and the Nuart Theatre in Los Angeles; Nov. 1 in Atlanta, Boston, Denver, Hartford, Conn., Philadelphia, San Diego, San Francisco and Winston-Salem, N.C.; Nov. 8 in Minneapolis and Portland, Ore.; Nov. 15 in Boca Raton, Fla.; and Dec. 6 in Ithaca, N.Y., Seattle and Washington, with more cities and dates to be announced.

[Carol Newquist]

The history of Philadelphia politics is interesting. I'm sure American Dream and Luther Blissett remember the infamous Frank Rizzo. They sure don't make them like Frank anymore, do they? Check this video out. This guy's an iconic caricature, isn't he? I can't help but laughing out loud at this video. It's nuts.

[Luther Blissett]

There's a statue of him sieg heiling at the site of the location where, whilst wearing a cummerbund, he beat protestors with a baton outside of a formal event he was attending.

…When they got to the north side of City Hall, the group marched across the street onto the plaza in front of the Municipal Services Building, ending up at the statue of former Mayor Frank Rizzo, an Italian beat cop who became police commissioner and then mayor. He was famous for going to his mayoral inauguration with a nightstick in the cummerbund of his tuxedo. Rizzo enjoyed telling people how much he admired an Italian police tactic known as spacco il capo -- break their heads. He was notorious during the insurgent sixties and seventies for saying he was going to clear out the city in such a way to “make Attila the Hun look like a faggot.” Leading some police operation in one of the neighborhoods in the 1970s, he told an acquaintance of mine who expressed some concern about the brutal action to shut up and get off his porch, “Or I’ll come up there and break your back.”

The marchers clustered at the base of the statue of Rizzo extending his right arm. Depending on one’s point of view, Rizzo is either making a warm, paternal gesture or he’s giving a limp parody of the Nazi salute.

During a 45 minute discussion under the statue, a marcher pointed to the occupation tents across the street at City Hall and said angrily, “We’re only there because the police let us stay there.” Of course, he was right. While the Philadelphia Police Department and its Civil Affairs Unit have so far been respectful, it’s ultimately the decision of the mayor and his police commissioner whether they remain, a decision based on public pressure coming from two polarized political directions. There's also the desire to avoid a public relations nightmare like the one that occurred in Oakland.…

http://thiscantbehappening.net/node/873?page=2

[beeline]

The history of Philadelphia politics is interesting. I'm sure American Dream and Luther Blissett remember the infamous Frank Rizzo. They sure don't make them like Frank anymore, do they? Check this video out. This guy's an iconic caricature, isn't he? I can't help but laughing out loud at this video. It's nuts.

Carol, thanks for posting this video. I love it. Rizzo is such a character. It's not inexplicable as to why he rose so far in Philly politics; in a sick way, it's really an explanation of today's Tea Party idiots writ small: He came to power in the 1970s, in a post-industrial, de-gentrifying urban landscape. Those whites that could afford to move out of the realty-driven red-lined neighborhoods did; those that could not were the unionized teachers, cops, firemen and municipal workers. So you had 'old' white neighborhoods that were afraid of the 'new' black neighborhoods. Only a few neighborhoods escaped this, either by racial ostracism or by banding together against the realtors, like West Mount Airy: see Racial Integration here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Airy,_Philadelphia. Thus the shit-eating grins on all of the cops in that video: Rizzo was their guy, their baton-wielding hero, as Luther and AD have mentioned. So it is important to remember in that context, the first incident in 1978:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MOVE

The MOVE members lived in a commune in a house owned by Donald Glassey in the Powelton Village section of West Philadelphia. MOVE members staged bullhorn-amplified, profanity-laced demonstrations against institutions which they opposed morally, such as zoos (MOVE had strong views on animal rights), and speakers whose views they opposed. MOVE made compost piles of garbage and human waste in their yards which attracted rats and cockroaches; they considered it morally wrong to kill the vermin with pest control. MOVE attracted much hostility from their neighbors. Their actions brought close scrutiny from the Philadelphia police.[4]

1978 shoot-out

On August 8, 1978, an end was negotiated to an almost year-long standoff with police over orders to vacate the Powelton Village MOVE house. MOVE failed to relocate as required by a court order.[5] When police later attempted entry, Philadelphia police officer James J. Ramp was killed by a shot to the back of the head. MOVE representatives claim that he was facing the house at the time, which would therefore negate the notion that MOVE was responsible for his death. Seven other police officers, five firefighters, three MOVE members, and three bystanders were injured in an unrelated crossfire.[6] As a result, nine MOVE members were found guilty of third-degree murder in the shooting death of a police officer. Seven of the nine became eligible for parole in the spring of 2008, and all seven were denied parole.[7][8] Parole hearings now occur yearly.

The MOVE bombing in 1985, therefore, was not without this context. And the Mayor, Wilson Goode, was not a strong leader--he essentially cow-towed to the Fire and Police Commissioners. It was government at its worst: leaderless but for the bureaucracy that existed, without the kind of authoritarian hand that Rizzo represented. Wilson Goode never accepted blame for Osage Avenue. Frank Rizzo would have only taken credit. What a fucking sick society I grew up in.

*********************************************************************************

Anyway, there are still some hilarious quotes in that video---"You're a crumb! A lush! You'se guys can take me on, the three of you'se, and we'll see who comes out!"

And one thing I will grant Rizzo: he was who he was. There was no facade. Chris Christie (unfortunately) came to mind when I watched that.

Finally: A little known fact: The streets that lead from Rizzo's house in on Crefeld Street in Chestnut Hill (as seen in the video) to City Hall are the only pothole-free streets in the entire City of Philadelphia, to this day. It's a 12 mile stretch that extends down Germantown Ave, to Lincoln Drive, to Kelley Drive, past the Art Museum, down the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, to City Hall. I ride my bicycle on that route every day.

[Carol Newquist]

beeline, you're welcome. I knew fellow Philadelphians would enjoy that clip. My Father owned a grocery store in Germantown in the mid to late 70's, so I know what you're talking about. The Philly cops were thugs. I'll never forget one of them trying to lure my Father into smacking him....taunting him, even. I had always been raised to respect police officers prior to this incident, but once I witnessed this and listened to the news all around me, I quickly changed my perspective. My Father had his car parked out front of the store loading it up and a police officer drives up and parks next to it. He gets out and starts writing a ticket....and keep in mind, this is not a traffic cop, so he didn't appear to be a ticket writer, although there he was, writing the ticket. My Father sees this from inside the store and goes out to confront the cop....and I follow to observe being the curious person I am. I was twelve at the time, by the way. When my Father confronts the cop, and keep in mind my Father was a big man.....6' 5" and about 300lbs, the officer gets right up to him and starts bumping my Father and using taunting language like "just try something." He was a short, wise-guy pipsqueek who was showing my Father who was boss because of the badge and gun. My Father backed down thankfully, but like I said, did it ever change my perspective. That was Rizzo's police force. They were no better than the mafia goons from whom they were taking hand-outs.

What's weird about watching that video is that many of Rizzo's mannerisms and linguistics resemble my Father's and one of my Brother's who still lives in the suburbs of Philly. It's uncanny. I'm not saying they were like Rizzo in all ways, but the language and mannerisms are eerily similar. My Father grew up in the polish (or former polish) part of town....down on Venango Street...that was in the 20's, 30's and 40's. My Mother grew up in the irish (or former irish) part of town just a few miles away. As you know, back then it was all divided by immigrant ethnicity. My Father would refer to people as the jewish guy, or the irish guy, or the polish guy, or the italian guy or the colored guy. I still have fond memories of roaming all around Germantown when my Father owned that store. I would hike around for hours looking and observing. Places fascinate me and I like to immerse myself in the vibe. There was a mafia- owned pizza joint several doors down called Germantown Pizza. My Father used to send me down there to get ones (he called hem singles....as in currency) rather than the bank. The owner would pull out this stack of cash two feet high. My jaw would drop every time. No way he was selling that many pizzas and then one evening my bro and I saw the big Caddy drive up and park out front. The owner comes out and gets in. The Caddy drives around the block several times, stops in front of the pizza parlor to let the owner out, and off it goes. Still, it was the best damn pizza in the city and the guy always had ones (singles)....always. They also had decent cheese steaks....that they called grinders rather than hoagies, but up the street was a Paganos.....they were popular back then, and damn, that was a great cheesesteak. It blew Pat's and Gino's away. Paganos didn't skimp. They loaded that thing up on a longer than normal roll. I was twelve and could eat a horse, but I could never finish that cheesesteak.

Those were the days.

[Luther Blissett]

That was riveting Carol, thanks. I just finished up a history project this year and I love to hear any and every oral history about the city.

By the way, a Pagano's that was established in 1962 is still in existence and has expanded to a few locations all over the city. I used to eat at various locations for lunch when there was one nearby. I remember it being good, but it's probably not very vegetarian-friendly for me at this point in my life.

[Luther Blissett]

Finally got around to watching this. I had been putting it off because I simultaneously believed I knew enough about the event from reading and at the same time felt as though I was not ready.

This is as fair and objective as one can get given the subject matter. Barely any editorialization, put together primarily through news footage, police archives, and footage of the hearings.

I just couldn't believe some of it. You really get a sense of the vehement racism streaking through these Rizzo-era cops. I just can't believe what some of the cops did and how I imagined that the children were killed. There was essentially one (maybe) good cop in the entire operation and he had to retire two years later from PTSD after saving Birdie.

This is highly recommended. One of those reminders about how easily hatred and bloodlust can spread in an organized fashion and how the media can get the public to go along with it.