The Detroit Riot of 1967

administration.

I

The Event

1. Detroit: July 23–31, 1967

Hope Disappointed

When the first of the nation’s recent major civil disorders erupted in Harlem in the summer of 1964, a mood of apprehension spread through Detroit, as it did in many other cities in America. Was it an isolated occurrence or a sign of things to come? That question was soon answered as similar explosions erupted in urban ghettos along the eastern seaboard and then spread across the nation. During the next two summers, however, Detroit was somehow by-passed as urban rebellions erupted in Cleveland, swirled around America’s fifth largest city, swept through Chicago and Omaha and out to the west coast, venting their fury on Los Angeles and San Francisco. As this occurred, Detroit’s apprehension grew into a faint hope that perhaps it could be spared the experience of violence and destruction. In fact some Detroiters began to suggest that perhaps their city had found an antidote to riots in its progressive program of race relations.

In retrospect that hope proved to be futile and after the summer of 1967, in which Detroit experienced the worst civil disorder of any American city in the 20th century, many Detroiters began to console themselves with the feeling that a riot in Detroit had been inevitable—that it was only a matter of time until disaster struck. There had always been the fear, expressed by many after the fact, that if a riot erupted in Detroit, it would be one of massive proportions. Thus, prior to July 23 the mood of the city was one of uneasy confidence mixed with deepening dread; for three summers Detroit escaped the fate of every other major urban area in the nation, but if every other city had fallen victim to violence, how could Detroit avoid the same fate?

The city’s anxiety was deepened in the early summer of 1967 by a drastic increase in the number of rumors of impending racial turmoil. These rumors, as a matter of daily routine, were sifted and investigated both by the city police department and by a special mayor’s summer task force, created to coordinate a vast array of summer programs conducted by the municipal poverty agency, the department of parks and recreation, the public schools, and private agencies. Two rumors caused great concern to both the police department and the mayor’s task force, and marked 12th street as an area of potential trouble.

The considerable amount of street prostitution on 12th street had long been a source of discontent for residents in the area and a focal point of resentment against the police. Residents complained bitterly about both the prostitution and the vice that accompanied it. They were convinced prostitution existed in part, if not primarily because the police consciously, perhaps even deliberately, allowed it to. The police, on the other hand, pointed to the difficulty of controlling prostitution within the strictures of the law. Arrests for investigation as disorderly persons, traditionally effective devices for keeping prostitutes off the streets, had been discontinued by the police department in 1964 because they were blatantly unconstitutional. A newly enacted prostitution ordinance, passed by the common council at the police department’s urging, was no sooner in effect and the first arrests made, than its constitutionality was challenged in the courts. Only a few weeks before the riot the state court of appeals ruled the ordinance unconstitutional.

In the interim the police department had adopted several other strategies designed to cope with the problem. Following the insistence of many Negro citizens that the police place an equal burden of blame on the prostitute’s clientele, the department took several steps to strongly discourage johns, most of whom were white and many of whom came from Detroit suburbs, from prowling in the ghetto. Potential customers attempting to flag girls from their cars, for example, became unwilling recipients of tickets for creating an improper diversion or blocking traffic. Men caught accosting prostitutes were subject to having their photographs taken by plainclothes officers carrying cameras with extraordinarily bright flash bulbs. Finally, in April 1967 and again responding to pressure, particularly from the 12th street community, the department assigned four integrated teams of foot patrolmen to walk 12th street from West Grand boulevard to Clairmount (precinct 10).* Within the first few weeks prostitutes began to disappear from the street corners. Almost simultaneously, however, a rumor began to circulate in the area that police officers had severely beaten a prostitute on 12th street, and as the story grew it came to include the pistol-whipping of her boy friend. Within a few weeks the rumor had gained such currency that it was being repeated as fact by well-known and respected people in the Negro community. In an attempt to obtain the facts, the police department sent teams of plainclothes officers from the citizens complaint bureau to scour 12th street. They sought names, place, date and time, or an eyewitness to the alleged assault. No one could supply tangible leads although everyone knew the story. Unable to find any substance to the rumor and noting it had sprung up at almost the same time foot patrolmen had been assigned to 12th street, police officials finally attributed the story to 12th street pimps or bar owners whose business had been rather drastically crippled by the presence of officers patrolling the area.

On Saturday evening, July 1, an incident of more serious proportions developed. A prostitute, well-known to police and in the community, was fatally shot at 12th and Blaine (precinct 10). Word spread quickly through the streets that she had been shot by two plainclothes officers from the vice squad. This story was eventually traced to another prostitute who had witnessed the killing and said the men involved in the shooting talked like vice squad officers. This witness also gave the story of yet another prostitute who allegedly observed the shooting and thought she recognized the assailants as two vice squad men who had arrested her several weeks earlier. Diligent investigation failed to produce this second witness, and although the murderers were not found, the assembled evidence seemed to indicate the prostitute had been shot by two 12th street musclemen who made their living by robbing prostitutes of their earnings. One of the presumed assailants was found stabbed to death on the same corner exactly one month after the riot.

Riot Erupts on the Sabbath Day

The Detroit riot of 1967 began with a routine raid on a well-known blind pig, chartered as the United Community League for Civic Action, on 12th street just north of Clairmount, at 3:45 a.m. on Sunday, July 23.* Twelve officers participated in the raid, four from the 10th precinct clean-up squad, a four-man precinct cruiser, and a squad patrolling 12th street. It was conducted after a Negro vice squad officer had gained entrance to the premises earlier in the evening and decided he could secure sufficient evidence to make arrests and a court case. Following a prearranged plan, the vice squad officer re-entered the premises at 3:35 a.m. The sergeant in charge of the clean-up crew then summoned a patrol wagon to expedite the transfer of prisoners. Ten minutes later the clean-up crew attempted to gain entry to the blind pig, was refused, and proceeded to force open the street entrance and a door on the second floor. For some reason, instead of the normal 30 or 40 persons usually netted in a blind pig raid, there were 82 on the premises that morning. Additional patrol cars were summoned, prisoners were loaded, and by the time the last wagon left the scene, a crowd of some 200 persons had gathered. In the crowd, according to police reports, were several persons who threatened the police and attempted to incite the crowd. The vice squad and clean-up officers knew that large crowds with a few openly hostile persons were common occurrences on such raids and did not, therefore, consider this an indication of potentially more serious trouble.

As the last prisoners were loaded, however, and the police cars began to leave the scene, bottles began to sail through the air from the rear of the crowd, one of which shattered the rear window of the precinct cruiser. With 82 prisoners in their custody, the officers quickly and properly left the scene.

The police department communications division records show that at 5 a.m. messages were being received and scout cars dispatched to runs such as 12th and Clairmount—man shot, 12th and Clairmount—officer needs help, 14th and Gladstone—trouble, Linwood and Clairmount—all stores being broken into. Upon hearing these reports Raymond Good, lieutenant-in-charge at the 10th precinct, accompanied by Sergeant Lawrence Mulvihill, left the station and proceeded to 12th street. Enroute, Good heard a message over the police radio alerting all cars to stay out of the area. This message, coming sometime shortly after 5 a.m., was the first indication of serious trouble on 12th street.

At 12th and Clairmount, Good found several hundred persons on the street and sidewalks but observed no looting. He was not on the scene long, however, before a brick was thrown, striking him behind the ear. Good and Mulvihill left the scene, together with the Negro vice squad officer who had remained in the area after the raid. The latter reported that in the period between the completion of the raid and his departure, he had seen groups of young persons running through the area throwing objects and breaking windows.

Lieutenant Good then went to a police call box at Clairmount and the John Lodge expressway and notified Raymond Glinski, control center inspector, of the situation. Glinski in turn notified Inspector Anthony Bertoni, the weekly duty officer, and received instructions to secure sufficient cars from other precincts to quell the disturbance. Bertoni then called John F. Nichols, deputy superintendent, who set in motion the notification of all police department executives. Records show that Inspector Charles Gentry, commanding officer of the uniformed division on the west side of the city, was alerted at 5:15. Five minutes later Inspector Edward Mischnick, 10th precinct command officer, was notified. Gentry and Mischnick both arrived at the 10th precinct station at approximately 5:45.

By 6:15 a.m. Gentry had ordered immediate mobilization of all officers scheduled to work the day platoon in west side precincts. Mischnick mobilized the day shift at the 10th precinct and went to the initial staging area at Clairmount and the Lodge freeway, where officers were ordered to report as soon as they were notified, This area was quickly determined to be insufficient for the number of men and equipment that would be reporting, and the staging area was moved three blocks south to the rear of the Herman Kiefer Hospital—a spot that for the next eight days was known as Kiefer Command and became the hottest outpost of the riot period. That Sunday morning, however, as fast as officers reported, they were assigned to scout cars in teams of four and given immediate runs by the dispatcher at communications center. From the outset there were more runs to be made than cars available to make them.

Meanwhile, at police headquarters a different drama was unfolding. Police Commissioner Ray Girardin, who had been alerted at approximately 5:20, arrived at headquarters shortly before 6 a.m. By 6:35 most of the department’s executives were on hand, and with preplanned precision the third floor of police headquarters was swiftly transformed from the offices of departmental executives into a headquarters command post. Ranking officers were assigned to predetermined units responsible for personnel, transportation, armaments, intelligence and communications. By 6:40 the tactical mobile and commando units from the motorcycle traffic bureau were mobilized. Two minutes later a teletype was issued by the deputy superintendent mobilizing all officers scheduled to report on the day platoon and ordering all men working at the time to remain on duty. By 7 a.m. the mayor and the state police were notified; at 7:07 the county sheriff’s office was alerted; at 7:10 Colonel H. Dryden of the National Guard, the department’s contact in the event of an emergency, was called. The police department log notes crisply, Wife accepted information, Colonel at Grayling, Michigan. The significance of that call, and the information that Dryden was at National Guard training grounds at Camp Grayling, would not become fully apparent until later that day, when the guard was committed and the first contingent transported to Detroit from Camp Grayling, 200 miles and five hours away!

Between 7 and 9:30 a.m. all units of the police department were ordered mobilized, the FBI, prosecutor’s office, fire and public works departments alerted, and all available policemen above the minimal requirements needed to secure the rest of the city were ordered into the 10th precinct. While these operations were being effected, a second strategy began to unfold on 12th street itself, one that had worked with considerable success in the Kercheval incident a year earlier, but would prove futile in this