Tales From Under A Middle-Aged Colored Woman
The Detroit Riots of 1967 My mother said that our house could possibly be blown up and we had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. When any of us children questioned her about what was going on she would change the subject. She just dressed us up in our best clothes and cooked a Sunday dinner of chicken, greens, and macaroni and cheese. I was to start school later that year at Glazer Elementary. My older sister was ten. I also had a two year old sister, and a one year old brother. We had just moved with our mother from an apartment in the Clairmont and Fourteenth area onto the top of a two family flat on Kendall between Rosa Parks and the John Lodge Expressway. Our new flat was about a mile from the riot area on Twelth and Clairmont. Ironically, I have very fond memories of the riot neighborhood. I remember being sent out with my older sister when I was three and she was eight to buy bologna and bread for our dinner. We wandered hand in hand over railroad tracks and crowded s...