3203 Glendale Avenue, Detroit – 1970

February 19, 2013Biography, Family History Writing Challenge, February Photo collage Festival#black conscience library, #Houses, #James E. Williams, #meKristin

This is the 19th post in the February Photo Collage Festival and the Family History Writing Challenge. This week I am doing four posts describing some of the places I have lived that I didn’t cover in the Alphabet Challenge last year. Today I am remembering 3203 Glendale Avenue, Detroit.

bcl1970 — Me, tired revolutionary librarian.

In the spring of 1970 the Black Conscience Library was evicted from 12019 Linwood so that the League of Revolutionary Black Workers could have the space. We temporarily moved into the basement of friends, Stu and Gloria House. They had been members of the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and worked for voter registration in Lowndes County, Alabama.

house_views__glendale — Two views from Google Maps of the house on Glendale. Back in 1970 none of those little trees and shrubs were there. Neither was the chain link fence.

That summer, we had high school students working with us. One of their tasks was to sell the Malcolm X posters you can see on the wall behind me in the photo above. Sometimes on Saturdays there was an organized trip to the rifle range so people could learn to shoot. I never went due to being in the last months of pregnancy. I remember all those steps from the basement to the attic and how many times I climbed them. We had received a grant from somebody and that summer two of us got paid.

refridgerator_glendale — Not the actual fridge, but this is what it looked like. Except it was painted in maroon with patches of other colors. I don’t know who painted it.

Our living quarters were in the attic. I was about seven and a half months pregnant with my first child. My bedroom was in the cedar closet up on the third floor. It was large enough for a bed and the baby’s little crib later. I remember the light from the streetlight on the trees below my window those warm summer nights. There was another bedroom towards the front of the house. Phil had that room. Phil was a former Black Panther who worked with the library. He kept playing “Bitches Brew” by Miles Davis all summer long.

There was a claw foot bathtub and a window that looked into the neighbors attic. We had globe top refrigerator and a hotplate in the hall that the two bedrooms and bathroom opened out to. I babysat the 2.5 year old when his parents were at work or school. There wasn’t a lot of library work to do aside from running off flyers and newsletters because we weren’t really open to the public. I remember lots of meetings. Meetings between the people that shared the house. Meetings between members of the library staff. Meetings about meetings.

Usually the house was full of people but the night that I went into labor, nobody was home. Jim was teaching a “Survival and Defense” class somewhere else. I don’t know where the other 5 adults and the 2 year old that lived in the house were. I waited and walked around and waited. Finally I called my doctor to say the contractions were 5 minutes apart and he said to come to the hospital. It was 10 PM. I called my mother and she came and drove me down and waited with me until Jim arrived. Baby Jilo wasn’t born until noon the next day so I could have waited a bit longer.

One night soon after I came home with Jilo and everybody had gone to bed, neither Jim or Phil were there, but the downstairs people were. A woman started to scream for help from the alley behind the house. Stu came upstairs looking for one of the rifles from the trips to the range. As I remember they had been broken down and cleaned but not put back together. He went back down and hollered out of the back door that he was going to come out there with a “30 aught 6” and shoot somebody if the woman wasn’t released. She was and she came into the house and the police were called. I learned this later because I was upstairs in the bed with my new baby girl thinking about the dangerous world and glad that Stu had been there to shout out the door.

Part of the cast of characters. Jim was taking the photos so he was not in the pictures, unfortunately.

“I was happy to hear that Jim and Chris (sic) were well. In the times when I question my own dedication to the struggle i remember them up in that loft, with the child, cooking dinner on a hot plate. It is something i can never forget and it brings me back home when i begin to trip too hard. It is a constant source of inspiration.”

We were there about 6 or 7 months before a new location was found for the library. By that time everybody was happy to get their own space again.

4315 Third Avenue, Detroit – 1966

February 18, 2013Family History Writing Challenge, February Photo collage Festival#Houses, #James E. Williams, #meKristin

This is the 18th post in the February Photo Collage Festival and the Family History Writing Challenge. I am doing four posts about some of the places that I didn’t cover in the Alphabet Challenge last year. Today I am going to remember 4315 Third Avenue, Detroit, where my husband, Jim, lived for several years while I was a student.

thirdcanfield1968 — Jim’s apartment was right before the sign that says “BAR” on the right.

When I met Jim in 1966, he was sharing a flat near Wayne State University’s campus with Eizo. Eizo was slightly older than we were, taught math at WSU and was an artist. He was a Japanese American who had spent part of his childhood in a concentration camp during WW2. Jim and Eizo met when they were both members of the Congress Of Racial Equality. They organized tenant strikes and demonstrations against absentee, ghetto landlords. The store front downstairs was empty. One of Jim’s friends, Cebie, an art student and friend from Missouri, lived in the basement for awhile before he moved out and into the Artist’s Workshop.

3rd_jim's — The flat on Third in 2004. A religious group has a mission for addicts there now. It looked a lot less spiffy in 1966.

One Friday, Jim asked me to go to a party with him but first he had to go do a radio play he was working on. We went to his flat and he left me there while he went for an hour to practice. This was the first time I had been there. When the phone rang I was afraid to answer it, not only because it wasn’t my place, but because I was half sure my mother knew I was there and was calling to fuss. It actually was Jim trying to call and tell me it was going to take longer than he thought.

As I was waiting night came and his roommate, Eizo, came home and asked if I was waiting for Jim or Bernard. Bernard? I didn’t know who Bernard was. While we waited for Jim to return he showed me his drawings. I said they reminded me of Cuba. He asked if I’d been to Cuba and I had to admit I hadn’t. I had just spent my high school years reading about and dreaming about it. His drawings were of California.

That summer, I worked at the Center for Applied Science and Technology. It was several blocks from Jim’s flat. Every morning before work I went by his house and everyday after work we would meet either at the student center in Mackienzie Hall and play chess or sit around the snack bar or at the Montieth Center, an old house that served as classrooms for Montieth College and also had a mimeograph machine and a lounge area. A friend of ours and fellow member of the African American’s Action Committee was the person in charge for the summer. We published A Happenin’ using their equipment.

3rd_backdoor — The back porch. There used to be piles of newspapers out there.

I remember standing at the back door watching the kids come home from the swimming pool at the rec center down the street and the winos looking through the bottles in the alley for one that still had a sip in it. And the man in the apartment across the alley practicing the trumpet, badly.

I remember the colorfully painted wall over the kitchen table and the squash left in the oven way too long. I can see the room full of television sets in the little room with the skylight, that Jim was going to repair.

On August 30 I turned twenty. That evening I was at Jim’s, he had once again invited me out to a party. There were other people there too, five or six. After awhile he told me that he had planned to give me a surprise birthday party but not enough people had come. We sat around and talked for a bit and then all went to another party.

At the beginning of September there was a trip to New York planned. Several people were driving over for something. I wanted to go but my parents said absolutely not. Jim went and the people he was riding with had car trouble and he ended up stranded there. I don’t remember how he got back but I do remember I was waiting and waiting for him to get home. I was at his flat and his friend, Cebie was there. While we were waiting, Cebie made some mashed potatoes and we ate them with olive oil instead of butter. Finally Jim called and he had gone straight to the AAAC meeting without coming home first.

In the fall of 1966 Eizo moved out and got another place where he didn’t have to be surrounded by Jim’s bizarre friends. Not including me, of course. At that point Jim moved in some of Cebie’s cousins who, he says, were Robitussin addicts. They worked in downtown hotels. After they moved in, I stopped going by. Eventually Jim resorted to drastic measures to get them to move out – he stopped paying the heating bill. By that time it was November in Detroit and cold. One night he decided to build a fire in a trash can to heat the place up. Amazingly, it didn’t burn to the ground but there was so much smoke that he coughed his way outside. He made it across the freeway to the student housing at the edge of the Jefferies projects and found refuge with a couple of student sisters. That takes us to a whole different chapter of the story that we won’t be covering here.

1300 Lafaytte – 1968

February 17, 2013Cleages, February Photo collage Festival, Houses#Albert B. Cleage Jr, #Houses, #meKristin

19681300lafayette — Pearl standing, me seated, my father. The photographer told us to look in that direction.

This is the 17th post in the February Photo Collage Festival and the Family History Writing Challenge. The next four posts will be about some of the places that I lived that I didn’t cover in the Alphabet Challenge last year. Today I am going to remember 1300 Layfette, Detroit. My father, who was still using his name, Rev. A.B. Cleage lived here for a year during 1968-1969. I was a senior at Wayne State University.

In the aftermath of the 1967 riots my father had received many crazy letters, including death threats. Several people involved in the movement had been beaten or shot during this time period. There were also the more well known assassinations that took place. I remember one sermon when my father announced that he had heard there was a price on his head and plans to kidnap him and hold him for ransom. He told the congregation that if he was kidnapped, give them nothing for his return. Strangely, I don’t remember worrying about this.

The flat on the left was the one my father lived in. The 12th floor is about half way up.

It was during this time that it was decided that he would move out of his first floor flat on Calvert, that had no security measures, and into the an apartment on the 12th floor of the very secure 1300 Lafayette apartments.

Here is a description written by Hiley H. Ward in his 1969 biography of my father, Prophet of the Black Nation, about the apartment and the atmosphere of the times.

“…He has continued to live alone, until recently in a twelfth-floor panoramic apartment ($360 a month, two bed-room) in the exclusive downtown eastside Lafayette Park overlooking the river, Detroit and Windsor, Canada. His church described his moving there as a security measure… in his immaculate apartment two of three paintings remain unhung after a number of months – not a sign of particular interest in the place.”

Several things I remember:

My father leaving my sister and me standing out in the hall while he went through the apartment with a drawn gun to make sure nobody was there.
The picture above being taken by a Detroit Free Press photographer for an article they were doing about my sister Pearl’s poetry for the Sunday magazine, Parade.
The time I spent a week with him while my mother and Henry went out of town. He went over to his mother’s house on Atkinson for dinner every night. I decided to just fix myself dinner. I did, but I left the tea kettle on and forgot about it. It melted on the burner. I still have a lump of the remains. During this visit I was instructed to give no one the phone number or the address.
All that remained of the tea kettle.
Watching the 4th of July fireworks.

I was trying to reconstruct the layout of the apartment from memory when I decided to look online. Currently the same apartments are in use as co-op apartments and I was able to find the layout and placement at the website for the current cooperative apartments.

At the same time that my father was living here, The Black Star Co-op being developed.

Poor Pete and PJ

February 16, 2013Cleages, Family History Writing Challenge, February Photo collage Festival, sepia saturday#meKristin

This is the 16th post in the February Photo Collage Festival and the Family History Writing Challenge. Today’s prompt includes a ~~turtle~~ tortoise. None the less, I am going to write about my experience with turtles. My sister and I owned several turtles when we were growing up. We always named them PJ and Pete and they always got soft shells and died. They lived in a little plastic turtle scape much like this one. We added small, colorful rocks to the bottom.

Their bowl sat on top of our bookcase in the bedroom. The room was bright but there wasn’t any direct sunshine there. The turtles were fed a diet of dried food that came in an orange little container. Sometimes we supplemented it with a fly we caught, or some lettuce. As the shells began to go soft, we would try to get them to drink some cod liver oil and moved their island home into the sunlight. All to no avail. They all died. I don’t remember any turtle funerals but there might have been at least one. Perhaps my sister will remember. Pearl says, yes we did bury some of them. I don’t remember being upset, or even minding, when they died.

Our mother didn’t want any ~~real~~ large pets, like cats or dogs, because nobody was home during the day. Maybe because both of her childhood dogs died rather sad deaths too. She was happy to buy us fish and turtles. I think the turtles replaced the fish because it was easier to keep their habitat clean. Once my sister and I took them out on the porch for a walk with strings tied around their shells. Not a big success.

I have since learned that turtles are salmonella carriers. Luckily we never had that problem. My children never had turtles for pets but my husband used to find turtles trying to cross the road and bring them home for them to see before releasing them into the nearby woods or lake. After writing this, I have to wonder if they were disoriented from being moved like this. In fact, this whole thing sounds like the torture of turtles.

Pearl and Kristin pretending to race on the upper front porch. Notice the well kept houses in the background. — My sister Pearl and I pretending to race on the upper front porch of the flat on Calvert. This was the house and the ages we were when we had turtles.

2013.01W.74 — To see more turtles and other stuff, CLICK!

To read more about living on Calvert go to “C” Is For Calvert.

What happened to cousin Dale?

February 15, 2013Cleages, Family History Writing Challenge, February Photo collage Festival#Dale EvansKristin

This is the 15th post in the February Photo Collage Festival, and the last post of five that will answer the question someone asked when I posted this photograph (follow the link to see it) – What happened to these kids? Today is the turn of cousin Dale Evans. This is the hardest of the five posts to write because I really don’t know what happened to Dale. I know that for some years he was out in California acting on TV, in the soaps I think. I’ve heard that he did promotions for events, like beauty contests and talent shows. He was making and selling crafts for awhile. He has a tendency to show up once in awhile and then disappear again for years at a time. I hope all is well with him.

This post ends the series on cousins then and now. I decided not to include myself since you can read many posts on this blog and find out my story.

Whatever Happened to Cousin Ernest?

February 14, 2013Cleages, February Photo collage Festival#Ernest MartinKristin

This is the 14th post in the February Photo Collage Festival, and the fourth post of six that will answer the question someone asked when I posted this photograph (follow the link to see it) – What happened to these kids? Today is the turn of my cousin Ernest Cleage Martin.

Ernest graduated from Michigan State University College of Osteopathic Medicine in 1986. He had his residency training of Psychiatry at Wayne State University – Detroit Medical Center and Psychiatry at Detroit Psychiatric Institute. Today he practices Psychiatry, in Anderson, South Carolina with a specialization in Forensic Psychiatry. When I learned he was practicing Forensic Psychiatry I wondered how he analyzed dead people. Of course that wasn’t what he was doing. It means that he specializing in psychiatry as it relates to the criminal justice system.

If someone had asked me at that birthday party in 1958 if Ernest would become a doctor, I would have thought they were kidding. He thought everything was funny, including the kid down the block falling off of his bike. His grades weren’t very good. Sometime during his college career he became friends with someone who made him part of their study group and he learned how to study. At the same time he must have realized that there was a point to it and here he is today, a successful doctor. Following in the footsteps of our uncle Louis and grandfather Cleage. You just never know how life will turn out. Ernest is still practicing today. He and his wife have raised two fabulous children and he still has that sense of humor.

What Happened to Jan Evans?

February 13, 2013Cleages, February Photo collage Festival#Jan Evans PetersonKristin

This is the 12th post in the February Photo Collage Festival, and the third post of six that will answer the question someone asked when I posted this photograph (follow the link to see it) – What happened to these kids? Today is the turn of my cousin Jan Evans Peterson. You probably think I am going to tell you she went on to have an illustrious career with the Alvin Ailey dance troupe, but no, she did not. I asked her how long she danced and she replied “let’s see, started around 13, stopped around 25. I danced somewhat with Shashu born and a teeny bit after Kamau.”

I believe there was also some modeling and transcribing of court sessions. Jan eventually moved to Canada and, along with Leonard, raised 4 wonderful, smart and talented children. She has 4 grandchildren. Jan now spends her time doing what needs to be done. This includes, but is not limited to, keeping up with her far flung family, copying and sending me family photos via email, posting inspiring quotes on fb and moving to a higher plane in a spiritual sense. She still wears her magnificent collection of bangles.

Warren Evans – Then And Now

February 12, 2013Cleages, February Photo collage Festival#Warren EvansKristin

This is the 12th post in the February Photo Collage Festival, and the second post of six that will answer the question someone asked when I posted this photograph (follow the link to see it) – What happened to these kids? Today is the turn of Warren Cleage Evans, the birthday honoree in 1958. Warren has spent his working life in law enforcement. Before his retirement last year, he had been a member of the Detroit Police Department, Wayne County Sheriff, Detroit Chief of Police and a candidate for Mayor of Detroit. He also has a law degree, 2 lovely daughters and 5 fantastic granddaughters. He still lives in the Detroit area and is now able to devote more time to his horses, antique cars and playing golf.

warren_now_then — Warren Evans then and now.

My personal favorite action by Sheriff Warren C. Evans was when he refused to accept “no” for an answer and took 9 truckloads of supplies and 33 deputies to help in the aftermath of Katrina. Here is an excerpt from the book The Political Economy of Hurricane Katrina and Community Rebound by Emily Chamlee-Wright about that incident.

“One of the best examples of this voluntary initiative is what we call ‘tale of two sheriffs’: Sheriff Warren Evans of Wayne County, Michigan and Sheriff Dennis Randle of Carroll County, Indiana. Both sheriffs were eager to assist the hurricane victims, and both had control over the necessary resources. Sheriff Evans, on the one hand, ignored both FEMA and his governor’s instructions to wait for FEMA approval and went to New Orleans with nine truckloads of supplies and 33 deputies to help (Parker 2005). Sheriff Randle, on the other hand, followed procedure, was buried under mounds of FEMA paperwork, and faced an unnavigable approval process. He never made it to New Orleans (Phillips 2005)”

What Has Pearl Cleage Been doing since 1958?

February 11, 2013Family History Writing Challenge, February Photo collage Festival#Pearl CleageKristin

This is the 11th post in the February Photo Collage Festival, and the first post of six that will answer the question someone asked when I posted this photograph (follow the link to see it) – What happened to these kids? I will be starting with my sister, Pearl Cleage. She became a writer. Pearl just completed another book which will be out not too far in the future. Aside from being a Genius and an acclaimed writer she also raised one fabulous daughter and now enjoys four wonderful grandchildren. She is also married to the love of her life, fellow writer Zeke Burnett. One of her favorite activities is walking on mornings when it’s not raining, with me. You can listen to an interview with Pearl from several years ago at the bottom of this page.

pearls_work — Pearl’s work – plays, stories, novels, non-fiction, poetry.

Hugh Marion Reed Averette – US Navy Experience 1898 – 1901

February 10, 2013February Photo collage Festival, Reeds, sepia saturday#Hugh ReedKristin

I am bringing this one back for this weeks Sepia Saturday 211 prompt with a WW 1 soldier.

This is the 10th post in the February Photo Collage Festival and the Family History Writing Challenge, and the last post in the present series about the Hugh Marion Reed Averette family. Today I am going to write about Hugh Reed Averette’s US Navy experience.

Hugh joined the US Army on July 13, 1898 in Indianapolis, Indiana. He was discharged on November 13, 1898 in Willets Pointe, Queens, New York. He joined the US Navy a month later on December 8, 1898 in New York City. He worked as a Coal Passer on the USS Newark. The Newark saw action in South America and Asia. In 1900, Hugh was in China. Here is a description of the ship’s activity during the time Hugh was a member of the crew from The Dictionary of American Fighting Ships.

The USS Newark

Departing New York 23 March 1899, the cruiser steamed down the coast of South America on patrol, stopping at numerous ports along the way. In the middle of her cruise 7 April, she was ordered to proceed through the Straits of Magellan to San Francisco. The ship, low on coal, was forced to put into Port Low, Chile, from 31 May to 22 June to cut wood for fuel. Finally arriving Mare Island Navy Yard 4 September, Newark underwent repairs and then sailed 17 October via Honolulu for the Philippines arriving Cavite 25 November. The warship took station off Vigan, Luzon, landed troops for garrison duty, then moved on to Aparri 10 December, receiving the surrender of insurrectionists in the provinces of Cagayan, Isabela, and Bataan.

crew_newark — Random crew members of the USS Newark

On 19 March 1900, she sailed for Hong Kong to rendezvous with monitor Monadnock 22 March and convoy that ship to Cavite, arriving 3 April and staying there until sailing for Yokohama 24 April, arriving 3 days later. The ship then hoisted the flag of Rear Admiral Louis Kempff, Assistant Commander of the Asiatic Station and sailed 20 May for China to help land reinforcements to relieve the legations tinder siege by the Boxers at Peking. Arriving Tientsin 22 May, Newark operated in that port and out of Taku and Chefoo, protecting American interests and aiding the relief expedition under Vice Admiral Seymour, R.N., until sailing at the end of July for Kure, Japan, and then Cavite where she hoisted the pennant of the Senior Squadron Commander in the Philippines. She sailed for home in mid-April 1901, via Hong Kong, Ceylon and Suez, arriving Boston late July 1901. She decommissioned there 29 July.

______________

Hugh Marion Reed Averette left the Navy on December 2, 1901, in Boston, Massachusetts. He returned to Indianapolis, Indiana and resumed life as a civilian.

Other stories in the series about my Uncle Hugh Marion Reed Averette

Hugh Marion Reed Averette 1876 – 1953

Blanche Celeste Reed aka Celeste J. Averette 1887 – 1988

Anna Roberta Reed Averette Flores 1907 – 1987

Hugh Marion Reed Averette – 1910 – 1993

Theresa Pearl Reed Averette Shaffer 1913 – 1941

Thomas Perry Reed Averette 1915 – 1986