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12

Glenville

In the summer of 1971, I asked Sergeant Bosie Mack, a black policeman, to give me an account of events as he saw them leading up to and including the night Ahmed Evans and his band made their attack on the Cleveland policemen and set in motion the destruction of much of what we wanted to do in Cleveland. Mack is a good, experienced policeman. He is not a young rebel in the department. He is a veteran of the force and one of the few black men ever to move up to the rank of sergeant. He can speak about that terrible night with more knowledge than anyone else. This is his account.

STATEMENT BY SERGEANT BOSIE MACK

July 28, 1971

"For a complete story of my involvement in the events of July 23, 1968, I must speak of the days prior to that date. My involvement began about July 8, although I had received information of concern during the preceding week.

"Beginning Monday, July 8, Detective William Taylor and I began an almost constant check and surveillance of the entire

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Auburndale area. We had received information of an arms build-up in the area, along with information of pending trouble. During our investigation we learned that this suspected illegal activity was under the direction of Fred Ahmed Evans.

"We checked with the apartment owner and learned that Evans and his followers had taken over three of the four suites of the building and were not paying any rent. The property owner wanted them out because of non-payment of rent, taking over of two other suites without proper authority and just plain fear of the persons involved.

"Detective Taylor and I made efforts to gain entry into any of the suspect suites, with negative results. Not knowing what was really taking place within the apartment suite, we did not think it wise to force entry until we had reasonable cause. In an effort to obtain the information we considered necessary to force entry, we arranged through Director McManamon for a building and housing inspection (July 17).

"After briefing, the building and housing inspectors made an effort to inspect the building. Detective Taylor, James Draper, Charles Rhodes and I were in the area and kept watch on the inspectors as much as we could. The inspectors were unable to get into the apartments. When we met with them, they expressed fear of returning to the building, although they could not explain their fears. They talked with a male who let them know that they were not coming in. These inspectors were really shook up.

"We thanked the inspectors and instructed them not to talk about what had transpired. Detective Taylor, the other officers and I returned to Police Headquarters. I reported to Captain George Sperber, chief of intelligence. After bringing him up to date on all the information we had obtained and what I thought would happen if this situation were permitted to go unchecked, I requested the helicopter known as Car 1300 to photograph the area during its traffic surveillance flights.

"Captain Sperber said, 'When this administration took over they abolished the helicopter unit. Therefore, we have no way of obtaining photos from the air.'

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"I said, 'Captain, Sergeant Lemieux is a member of the Traffic Unit; he flies twice daily; he knows how to use a camera; he can take the pictures during one of his routine flights.'

"Captain Sperber said the helicopter belonged to a radio station and he could not tell them what to do. I got an impression that Sperber did not care what happened. He then told me to talk with neighbors in the area and set up an observation post. I told him that was out of the question. Evan's followers were all over the area and we did not know who was who yet. Sperber said, 'You and Taylor will have to do the best you can.'

"I then asked for three additional men to be assigned to this investigation. Sperber stated the administration had transferred all the men out and he could not get additional men transferred back in and I would have to do with what I had.

"Taylor and I then went on what amounted to twelve- to sixteen hour shifts watching the Auburndale area and taking care of our regular assignments. We worked seven days a week. On Sunday, July 21, we started hearing the expression 'The pot is going to boil.' We found out that the pot boiling meant trouble, a confrontation of some type with the police. We spent the rest of that day trying to find out about this confrontation."

"On Monday, July 22, we heard about a tri-city riot that was to start on July 24. We learned that the cities were Akron, Canton and Cleveland. I t was late Monday night or Tuesday morning when we learned this.

"On Tuesday, July 23, I informed Sperber that the word was that trouble would occur in this city Wednesday morning, July 24. The target area was Five Points. There would be firebombing and a shoot-out. It was not known what was to be torched or who would be in the shoot-out. Evans was supposed to go out of town to pick up machine gun and ammunition. He was to leave about nine o'clock Tuesday night, in his station wagon.

"After I told Sperber what I had heard, Seargent Ungvary and Patrolman Smith met with him. They apparently had the same or similar information. Taylor and I, having cone on the street, received orders to return immediately to the intelligence office.

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Upon returning, I met with Captain Sperber, Sergeant Ungvary and Patrolman Smith and discussed the situation. Then we all went to Chief Blackwell about ten thirty or eleven.

"Smith and I gave the information to the Chief, Inspector Garey and Inspector Coffey. Blackwell told us to take the information to City Hall -- it was a hot potato -- and see what City Hall wanted us to do about it. I asked Sperber why we should take this to City Hall. Sperber said because the Chief said so. I argued that this was a police problem and that he, as the intelligence boss, and the Chief should work out a plan to eliminate the problem. Sperber said, 'That's up to the Chief.'

"Then I said to Chief Blackwell, ' I agree that City Hall should be informed as to the situation, but it seems to me that this is a police matter and you as chief of police should handle it.'

"Chief Blackwell said, 'This is big.' That's why he wanted City Hall to know about it and he would follow City Hall's orders in this matter. We left the Chief's office about 12:20 P.M.

"In the Mayor's office about 1:45 P.M., Smith and I again disclosed the information we had gathered. Present were Director Clarence James, the acting Mayor; Director McManamon; Councilman George Forbes; Inspector Coffey; Captain Sperber; Sergeant Ungvary; Detective Taylor; Patrolman Smith; Walter Beach and myself. Part of the information given by Patrolman Smith was that there was a list of persons marked for death when the riot started -- Mayor Stokes, W.O. Walker, Baxter Hill, Patrolman Payne and Earle Brown.

"Director James and the others listened to what was said. Then there was a discussion on ways to avert the tragedy. Since the information was that the action would be Wednesday morning after Evans returned, it was decided to have two roving Task Force cars keep the area under surveillance. These cars were not supposed to stop moving. They were to appear as normal patrol and look for Evans to leave the area in his car and follow same. They were to follow Evans to the highway, then the Highway Patrol was to be notified of the route and directions taken by Evans. The Highway Patrol was to continue the surveillance,

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follow Evans to this destination or the state line. It was believed that Evans would go to either Akron or Detroit, Michigan. The Ohio patrol and Michigan patrol were alerted to stand by to participate in this plan. Evans, as per plan, was to be stopped in the highway as he returned to Cleveland.

"Inspector Coffey, being the highest-ranking officer present, was told to issue the proper instructions to the Task Force and other Cleveland police he deemed necessary. Captain Sperber was to make the necessary arrangements with the Ohio State Police, Michigan State Police, Akron Police Department and Detroit Police Department and also gather what intelligence those departments might have re this crisis.

"While at City Hall, Inspector Coffey called the Task Force and instructed them to establish a detail on the building located at 12312 Auburndale and keep same under surveillance because there [might] be trouble. Upon hearing this, I repeated to Inspector Coffey the part of the agreed-upon plan for a 'roving patron.' Inspector Coffey told me he was talking to Lieutenant Schemp. 'He is a good man, he will know what to do.'

"I told the inspector that I knew Schemp and that he was a good man and that he would 'do exactly what you [Coffey] tell him to do.' I further stated, 'You told him to put a detail on that address and watch it and that is what he will do.' I further stated to the inspector that if the police parked in the area someone would mess with them 'and when the police take action against this person you will have the start of an incident.' I suggested the inspector have the supervisor of the Task Force come to City Hall or his office and I would lay the whole thing out to them so they would know what they were up against.

"Inspector Coffey again told me that Schemp would know what to do. I then went to Captain Sperber, who was still in the Mayor's office, and told him of the instructions given to the Task Force and asked him to make sure the Task Force knew they were to keep moving.

"Captain Sperber said to me, 'Coffey is an inspector. He knows what he is doing. Who am I to tell him what to do?' I then said

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to Captain Sperber: 'The Task Force has only a few colored patrolmen and if a car of white policemen park out there, there will be trouble and someone will get killed. I hope to God it won't be a policeman.' Captain Sperber merely stated, 'Inspector Coffey will take care of notifying the Task Force.'

"I was instructed to make sure the detail at the Mayor's home had two shotguns in the car. I did this and dispatched Detective Taylor to meet the Mayor's plane. I further instructed Taylor to stick with the Mayor. I returned to Police Headquarters with Captain Sperber, all the while trying to get him to do something about the orders given the Task Force. I even volunteered to go to the area myself and make the surveillance. All my efforts met with negative results.

"After this meeting ended, Councilman Forbes and W. Beach told Director James that they would go to Auburndale and try to cool things. They would attempt to reason with Evans. Director James instructed me to take what men I had under my control and secure the Mayor.

"Upon arrival back in town, the Mayor went to his home. The detail of detectives were there on duty. Taylor and I got together and discussed the situation and we both were on stand by.

"I then proceeded home. At about East 147th and Bartlett, a broadcast came over the high band. The officer stated in very excited tones, 'they are coming out. They have automatic rifles. There are about thirty of them.' I asked over the high band in the vehicle I was driving if the officers were sure the weapons were automatic. The answer came back: 'they are automatic. I am an eyeball witness.'

"I then broadcast an order for the police in the area to pull out, to move to a point on the perimeter and get in touch with the Task Force base. This was bout 8 P.M. I then heard the sounds of gunfire over the high band and low band. A tow truck was crying for assistance on Beulah Avenue. The tow truck was under fire. Two police cars stated they were on their way to assist.

"I proceeded home, immediately called Director McManamon and informed him that the 'ship had hit the sand,' that a gun

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battle was in progress on Auburndale, between the Nationalists and police. I suggested he inform the Mayor and I told him that Taylor and I would be at the Mayor's home in five minutes. I then called Captain Sperber and left word with his wife that two policemen had been shot and the battle was still raging. I contacted Taylor and told him that all hell had bust loose and I would pick him up in two minutes.

"After picking up Taylor, we drive to the Mayor's home. The vehicle was in such bad shape that it broke down in the Mayor's driveway. It refused to start; it simply sat there and boiled. I then ordered the men on detail to give me their vehicle and shotgun.

"I informed the Mayor as to what had happened and where it was happening. The Mayor stated he wanted to go to the Sixth District headquarters. We left his home for the Sixth District. I then suggested that he go to City Hall, and I showed him the list of names of persons to be killed during this shoot-out. I further suggested that at the Hall he would be in position to call his advisers and he would be in position to know what was going on city-wide. The Mayor agreed and we went to City Hall.

"Upon arrival at the Hall, to my surprise, many members of the Mayor's Cabinet and many office girls were there, both black and white, and wanting to help in any way they could to bring the matter under control.

"Mayor Stokes told me to get Chief Blackwell there as soon as possible. A call to his home produced no results. I called the police radio and requested broadcasts for the Chief every two minutes if necessary until he responded. The Chief arrived at the Hall, and I ushered him to the Mayor's office. I heard the Mayor say to Chief Blackwell, 'Chief, I have to ask you as chief and call on all your years as a policeman -- tell me, what do I do?' The Chief answered: 'Back when I took over the Workhouse, I clamped down and changed things around there.'

"The Mayor said: 'Chief, what do we do now?'

"The Chief simply said: 'To tell the truth, I don't know.'

"The Mayor said: 'Chief, we've got to stop this thing. Police and citizens are being shot out there.'

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"The Chief responded with some worn out cliches. I walked away feeling sick way down deep. I thought of how from the beginning the top officers did not seem to want to do anything that would prevent this from happening. I thought of how they said, 'Friends of the Mayor are involved,' or 'The Mayor can take of it, they are friends of his.' It seemed as though the top officers of the department wanted some kind of incident to discredit the Mayor.

"On July 25, during what could be called a lull at City Hall, where the Mayor, his assistants and I had been cooped up ever since this thing started, I went to the intelligence office to consult with Captain Sperber. He stated to me that he was writing his resignation. He said it was for two reasons. One was that the Mayor had ordered him to turn over all reports, tapes and statements he had concerning the riot. He said, 'That stuff is all evidence,' and he refused to turn it over to anyone other than the county prosecutor. Then he asked me a question. He asked me if I had done everything I could to prevent the riot. He must have read something in the look I gave him. He went on to say before I could answer, 'we have three policemen dead and several wounded. I feel bad about this. I feel as though there should have been something I could have done about his. How do you feel about it -- the dead men and their families? It's on my conscience.'

"I said, 'Skipper [the nickname I started calling him after he made captain], I am grieved by the death of the officers and I feel sorry for their families. I feel for the wounded, but my conscience is clear. Yes, I feel as though I did everything I could to keep those men alive and uninjured. Taylor and I spent many days and nights out there observing things and we reported directly to you, telling you what the situation was out there. It seems now like no one believed us, as if they were not listening when I spoke. I did not have enough help and couldn't get any from this office. As for the Mayor ordering the reports and other evidence brought to City Hall, I don't believe that. The Mayor is an attorney and he wouldn't do that.

"Captain Sperber said that he had just received a call from the

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Chief's Office ordering him to turn over everything we have to the Mayor's Office.

"I said: 'I don't know anything about that order. Somebody got the order fouled up, but I will check with the Mayor and get it straight.'

"Then Captain Sperber said: 'If you were in my place, wouldn't you resign?'

"I said: 'Skipper, I've told you my conscience is clear and I am not about to quit and I ain't thinking about it.'

"I then returned to City Hall and asked the Mayor about the order Captain Sperber had to turn over the reports, tapes and statements.

"The Mayor said, 'they got it all wrong. Those things are evidence. How in the hell can I order him to turn it over? No one should have access to those things but the police and prosecution. If anyone else gets those things, it will ruin the case when it comes to court.'

"The Mayor then said, 'the office staff is compiling a chronological log of the events relating to the riot. They want to be sure they have a record of what happened and the time and place it happened. For that they don't need the reports or anything that might be evidence. All they want is a list of events, time and places. They don't even need the final disposition.'

"I went back to the intelligence unit and told Captain Sperber what was wanted at City Hall. He said, 'If that's all they want, they can have that.'

"The night the Mayor made a tour of the riot area we came upon some incidents between the police and the residents of the area. The Mayor's arrival on the various scenes cooled things. The residents acted with respect toward the Mayor. This seemed to anger some of the police. They took the attitude that the Mayor was interfering and wouldn't let them do their job. The National Guard didn't want any part of the police action and seemed to try to stay clear of it.

"Many residents expressed fear of the police. They said the white police were angry, out for revenge, and [they] were afraid

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that the white police would take revenge on any black person they found on the street at night and besides, they said, 'most of the white police are drunk.' That was heard from residents throughout the riot area and the unaffected black community. The entire black community seemed relieved when the order went out to remove all the white police from the affected area and to replace them with black policemen. This order seemed to anger the white police even more. They regarded this as more interference by the Mayor and showed their displeasure by many obscene and disrespectful remarks made over the police radio. The Mayor and the black police were the target of these remarks.

"The black police, though small in number, rose to the occasion. They really extended themselves in their efforts to bring things under control after the first night there were no more deaths, black or white. The second night was relatively quiet. The city was returning to an almost normal state."

[END OF STATEMENT]

In the aftermath of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., on April 4 1968, almost every large city in the country with a sizeable black community had violence and looting of some sort. We were able to keep that from happening in Cleveland. In a way it was unfortunate that we succeeded as well as we did, because it only confirmed the establishments wager that in backing me they were buying insurance. Not that I didn't make a good deal of it myself at the time, taking reporters along with me as I walked the streets, calming people, talking them into cooler emotions. I tried, though to get across the point that the community had calmed itself. If wasn't just me out there; we had clergymen, athletes, street clubs, militants out patrolling, working to keep the lid on. Obviously, they were out there because I got them together to do it, but they were the ones who really handled it. The reporters focused on Carl Stokes, and it set me up for a much longer fall three months later when Glenville

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broke out. We had out first Town Hall meeting during April, after the loss of Martin, and I remember two little old white ladies running up to me and kissing me and thanking me for saving the city.

In Glenville I took a step that other mayors around the country would later take when things got out of hand: I pulled out the white police and sent black leaders in to keep the peace. It wasn't a totally unprecendented move in Cleveland, Ralph Locher had pulled out the black police from Mayfield Road when Little Italy faced its school segreation crisis. He didn't want any black policemen up there whipping white heads. But more then pulling the white policemen out of Glenville, I sent in the leaders of the black community to police itself as I had in April. I think that was the most important thing I did, and it worked, at least in the sense of stopping the shooting. There were no more deaths. But it did unleash what had been latent race hatreds that had been smoldering since the election. It meant the end of Carl Stokes as hero. As long as I had been the hero, no one would vent his racism publicly. We had had the city so caught up in working toward solving Cleveland's problems that those who were not a part of the enthusiam were at least neutralized. All of that ended.

The thing that brought it out was not so much the Glenville shootings as that a black mayor had pulled out the white police. This had clearly been a fear all along, that a black mayor would interfere with the police function of protecting the white community against the black peril.

The decision to make that move was not easily arrived at. On the morning of July 24 I had well over a hundred black leaders assembled at City Hall. We had been up all night at the Hall, calling people for the 8 A.M. meeting. We tried to get a true cross section on the issue of pulling the police out or leaving them in, and we reached no decision then. Most of the older, middle-class Negroes were against pulling them out. The younger, more militant blacks wanted to pull them out. My own immediate

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reaction early in the meeting was against pulling them out. As it progressed and arguments were made, I modified that position. I knew that I was the only one who would have to live with the decision and that no matter which was I went I couldn't win. I had to stop this small war going on within my city. I didn't even have confidence that whatever decision I did make would be obeyed by the police. Finally, I just had the feeling that black people were not going to kill black people. And I knew that in that room that morning there were at least two people who knew whether there would be further shooting, because of their own personal knowledge and involvement. That afternoon I called a press conference to announce that I was going to pull the white policemen out and allow black leaders to patrol the area.

Wednesday night they kept their watch in the area. There was some looting, but no more shots were fired, no more lives were lost. The next day I met with the community leaders again, this time in the Glenville area. They told me they had stopped the shooting, they were convinced there would be no return to the warfare of Tuesday night. But they just couldn't handle the problem of looting. Some reported the presence of professional looters and cars from Michigan. The decided they wanted the police and the National Guard back in the area.

On that Thursday night, there were absolutely no incidents whatsoever. The people welcomed the police back. There were reports of incidents that indicated that the police themselves wanted something to happen. There would be people in the streets and the police would pull up and jump out of their cats with their guns out and tell the to get the hell off the street. The people cooperated and moved away despite the provocative behavior of the police.

A number of the people I had talked with on Wednesday before pulling the police out were members of the Police Department, men who were aware of the bitterness among the police over the police over the men who were shot down, as well as the residual hatreds of black residents of the neighborhood. Over and over

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again, the trusted people in the department I talked with said either flatly that the police should be kept out or at least that I ought to be very careful because the men would be looking for revenge.

The police attitudes throughout the entire incident and its aftermath were self-protective, corrupt and destructive. A dispatcher would call a patrol car on the police radio to go help someone in the Negro area, and the cop would reply, "Send the nigger mayor to take care of it." All this was reported to me, but it wasn't until two days after the incident that we found time to go after the radio tapes. When we inquired about them we were informed by Captain Sperber that the tapes had been turned over to the county prosecutor for evidence. He brought me a letter written by John T. Corrigan on July 25, addressed to Sperber -- not to the chief of police, but to this captain saying that prosecution of somebody for the homicides of July 23 was anticipated and "it is most important that the chronology of the action of the police department be preserved." It went on to request all police records and radio tapes, to be kept as evidence.

That night and the next, racial slurs and insults were still being made occasionally by the police over the air. John T. wrote another letter to Sperber, ordering the tapes from July 24 and 25 to be delivered to him. Now, John T. had no use for those tapes for his prosecution. During the subsequent trials of Ahmed and his followers, the tapes were never mentioned. It they had been effectively kept out of my hands.

In fact, the police were willing to conspire with anyone to protect themselves. Late Saturday night, July 27, an NBC television cameraman was beaten up. He charged the police with attacking him. The police charged that he was attacking them. On Sunday I held a meeting with the top men in the Police Department. They said they didn't know anything about it. Later that afternoon, at the request of WKYC officials, I went over to the NBC-owned station and listened to the video tapes of the interview with the cameraman, Julius Boros, who contended the police had smashed his camera and beaten him with night sticks. The television-station officials and reporters were furious. They

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demanded I do something about this vicious attack up a member of the press. I made a public announcement that there would be a thorough investigation and that the appropriate action would be taken. But the next morning I for a call from James Carnes, then chief police prosecutor, who said the WKYC-TV people wanted to talk to me. I told him to bring them over.

Carnes led the delegation into my office of the top television station officials and their counsel from an established Cleveland law firm. But interestingly, also with them was Milton Firestone, a veteran Police Court lawyer, best known for working out deals with the police and persecutors such as to reduce driving while intoxicated charges to the lesser offense of reckless driving. One of them proceeded to tell me that they had discussed the whole matter and that probably the best course of action would be to have both sides drop the charges. They said they would have Boros sign a waver of release and the whole matter would be considered closed. Now, Carnes had earlier told me the police had the facts and were going to prosecute Boros. I asked the WKYC people if this deal had been cleared all the way up in their organization. They said that it had.

I hit the ceiling. I was as mad as I ever got, hitting my desk to punctuate my points. "I will be damned if I permit this kind of thing going on in my office," I said. "I don't know whether the police assaulted this man or not, but I know the police claim they have the evidence to convict the man. He, Boros, claims the police brutalized him. You are not going to some behind the doors of this office and think you can arrive at the kind of shoddy settlement that has traditionally been accepted by this city. The police have charged the man, NBC has vehemently denied any aggressive action on the part of their man and in fact said he has been victimized, and, goddammit, nobody is going to come into this office and make any deals. Now, all of you get out go here."

Jim Carnes never said a friendly word to or about me after that. He later told me I had made him look silly. Subsequently, we both agreed on this resignation as Chief Police Prosecutor.

Few people knew that I went into the Glenville area myself

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Thursday night. In the early evening, Jim Barrett, Bosie Mack and William Taylor, all policemen, were following my car in a tail car, riding some distance behind to prevent someone coming up behind me. Although I had never reacted to threats that came in, they did come in, various forms, every day. When Glenville occurred, the threats escalated to an intensity of violence and obscenity that would be worthless to reproduce here. I was never so glad that my family was out of town, away from the violence that surrounded us.

That Thursday night we first drove to my house. I told Barrett that what I really wanted to do was go out to Glenville. I didn't' want anyone to know I was doing it, because I wanted to observe what was happening without the glare of television lights and the presence of reporters. The back-up detail was dismissed for the evening. The security detail at the house were told we were going into Glenville but I wanted no escort. Barrett and I left alone.

As we arrived at the cordoned-off area, we were challenged by the guardsmen. It was a sight that made you sick at heart. As I got to 105th Street and Wade Park Avenue, I saw a half-track with cannons and a couple jeeps with two guardsmen carrying machine guns, and as we pulled up they signaled the car while asking us where we were going. I identified myself, and Barrett took out his badge and pinned it on his lapel so they would see immediately he was a police officer. The guardsmen told me they couldn't permit me to ride into the area, because they felt that some of the men, seeing two black men in a black Lincoln Continental, might let go. A captain with them insisted that the only way he could approve our going in was under his escort. So I had to go in with the captain and two other men, all in a jeep with a machine gun mounted on it.

We got to Superior Avenue and were greeted by a tank. Not a half-tank. A tank. In the center of my city, an army of occupation had taken over. My reaction was a bottomless revulsion, an uncontrollable

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visceral churning; I was cast down. The streets were deserted, there was nothing out there but soldiers with guns. It reminded me of Germany. The fear and resentment of the soldiers was almost palpable in its volatility. Even at the checkpoints, with the captain present, they would point those machine guns at the car. I couldn't help thinking, One of these nuts could pull the trigger just because he is afraid in a hostile area -- he really thinks of himself as being in a foreign enemy country. I understand what it must have been like at Kent State on May 4, 1970, when an army of poorly trained, fearful, apprehensive, exhausted young men with inadequate controls met a situation for which no one had been able to prepare them. I understood that night in Glenville that all it would take would be for us to suddenly accelerate the car or make any sudden move and we would be fired upon.

We arrived at 114th and Superior, near a gift shop kept by one of the nationalist groups. I got out and went into the shop. Barrett went with me. They had the news on the television set, reviewing the events of Tuesday night. I sat there with them and explained what that kind of activity was doing in our city. We got pledges from them to help us bring peace back to the community, and then we proceeded down Superior. We came upon a white magazine writer named Jack Skow who was walking down the street. Apparently a white man could walk the street unmolested. He came over and told me he would like to ride with us. He got in and we rode around. We heard a call over police radio that they were holding up a number of nationalists at Eighty-fourth and Superior. That we knew was the Afro Set. I told Jim, "Let's get down there."

When we for there they had Harllel Jones and one of his aides named Shababa and four boys that had to be under fourteen years old. They were all lined up against the outside of the building with their hands against the wall. There must have been twenty police, with all kinds of guns pointed to these six people. I heard what was obviously an agitated conversation coming from the police, something like, "You sons of bitches, one of you move and we'll blow your goddam head off." How the hell were

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they going to move in that situation? The police had guns pointed not only at them but at a crowd that was beginning to gather around them. Clearly we had the makings of a blood letting.

I got out and walked through the crown. The highest-ranking officer was a lieutenant. There were no guardsmen around. I said, "What's the problem?" He said Harllel and the others were violating the curfew. I asked Harllel about it, and he said the boys were in the Afro Set attending a meeting. They had come out in time to get home before the curfew went into effect, but the policemen had stopped them just as they were leaving the building and had been holding them; as soon as the curfew hour passed they had told them they were in violation and they were going to jail. I told the lieutenant that they were only dealing with young kids and a matter of a few minutes' violation.

Just then one of police came up and said they had found a set of brass knuckles in Harllel's car. The lieutenant said this had to be classified as a dangerous weapon.

I said, "Lieutenant, do you mean to tell me that with all the trouble we have in this city you want to arrest him because of a set of brass knuckles?"

He said, "Mayor, this man is violating the law. Are you asking me to not enforce the law?"

I said, "Okay, Lieutenant, have it your way." I told Harllel to go with him. I told him I would see to it that he had a lawyer right away. I told him not to give the police any trouble and he said, "Okay, Mayor," and got into the police cruiser. I then drove the other boys home. At City Hall I personally called attorney Stanley Tolliver and got him to go to the precinct and represent Harllel. We found out later on that after we left the Afro Set office the police went in there with shotguns and machine guns and just shot up the whole place.

The man who brought us to that place, who initiated the shooting, was Fred Evans a hustler who took the Ahmed and was projected by the news media into a prominence that he has never anticipated but quickly exploited. He talked all kinds of revolutionary nonsense purely for the purposes of extorting

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money. He was a petty hustler. But the young black kids who were out there believed him. The media gave him nationwide exposure when he predicted the end of the world. He never believed the stuff he fed the kids. And when it got hot in that house on Auburndale, Ahmed surrendered in such as way as to make sure he did not get shot. Once in the custody of the police, with the eyes of the media and the public focused on him, he went right back to his rhetoric.

When Ahmed started buying guns, those kids believed he was preparing for the revolution. But what kind of revolution is it when you get into a house in a crowded neighborhood and carry a hopeless battle with the police? They were fighting from a house from which there was no escape, fighting a superior force, with nowhere to go. I would doubt that Ahmed fired a shot. I don't mean that he was innocent. A jury found him guilty of murdering the policemen and he is now serving a life sentence in the Ohio Penitentiary. I mean he was not a revolutionary He was a punk. He did not intend that there would be shooting. He just wanted to keep his hustle going. But once you begin a certain kind of activity it can build on its own, gathering momentum. Before Ahmed knew it, his rhetoric had carried him into a full-scale war on the street. At that point the only thing this punk had in mind was how not to get killed. He crawled out of that house after sending out every possible message that he wanted to surrender and wanted to surrender safely. Instead of being considered the hero some try to make of him, he ought to be considered lower than Benedict Arnold.

Now all of the veteran reactionary writers of letters to the editors began to surface. (Perhaps they had been writing all along, but the newspapers, until Glenville, had not been printing them.) Glenville gave them something to hang their anger on. It was clearly a public issue and clearly an issue of black and white. Black revolutionaries, led by an eccentric astrologer name Ahmed Evans, had actually opened fire on the police. It was the first time in this country something like that had happened. This was no riot. It was no festival of looting and burning. It was warfare.

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In the aftermath of Glenville, we spent a good deal of time trying to figure out how to recoup the public confidence. We had a poll taken after Glenville, Bill Silverman hired a firm to do a poll of the entire community, and it showed that forty-seven percent of the white people approved of our decision and almost eighty-one percent of the black community agreed with the move. When you couple that with the fact that all of the claims of the businessmen who had stores vandalized totaled less that a million dollars, it seems to me that you can't attack our decision. Look at the extreme damage in other cities -- Los Angeles, Newark, Detroit -- let alone the loss of life, and you realize we really did hold the lid on the situation. And afterward we moved quickly to get federal assistance for the businessmen, we moved to clean up the area, to remove the physical evidence of the violence, and started immediately helping people to relocate.

Nevertheless, not only the Council but all the groups that are normally platforms for racism now went to work on us. The police. The people calling radio talk show. And the business community. The businessmen, against my constant reminder that I was no insurance against violence, had continued to believe it anyway. Glenville was their rude awakening, and when they found out that they had risked an independent mayor as an insurance policy to no avail, they turned away. Tom Patton, the president of Republic Steel, pulled a group of businessmen together, and they called for an audit of Cleveland: NOW! To find out how much Cleveland: NOW! money had gotten into the hands of Ahmed. They found approximately $6,000 had been paid by his group for salaries which had been verified by the community group overseeing and authorizing the expenditure. There is nothing wrong with a public accounting, but this was clearly a defensive move taken because a fishy light had been cast, not only on Cleveland: NOW!, but on the entire Stokes administration. Many businessmen who had made pledges to the Cleveland: NOW! Program quietly turned their backs, and we could see there would b no support for its continuance. The overall mood of distrust was devastating.

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