A Time to Remember: The Lee Family Commemorative Event
In 1931, Arthur Lee, his wife, Edith, and their daughter, Mary, moved into their newly purchased home at 4600 Columbus Ave. They were the first family of color to move south of 42nd Street. More than 3,000 people from the neighborhood and surrounding community held a three-day racial demonstration against the Lee family to try to force the family out of their home. The Lee family stayed.
Gather at the playground to begin silent procession down 46th Street, stopping at 4600 Columbus Ave. for memorial dedication. Continue to McRae Park, 46th and Chicago, for program.
July 16, 6:45 to 8 pm., Field Community School playground, 4645 4th Ave. S.
Are they giving away our parks?
It was just a few years ago that the Minneapolis Library Board gave away our library system to Hennepin County because they could no longer afford to pay for it. It was the first step in transforming a world-class reference library into a pop stand for pulp fiction. Now it seems we’re headed down the same slippery slope with one of the best park systems in the country.
Freedom vs. Responsibility
One way to describe the conflict between Governor Mark Dayton and the Republican legislature would be to say it is a struggle between freedom and responsibility.
Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention by Manning Marable
Any reviewer owes the reader an accounting of possible biases, personal knowledge or connection or any information helpful in assessing the worth of the analysis.
I was a detective in BOSSI (Bureau of Special Services and Investigations—NYPD) from July 1957 to December 1965 with one brief interruption in 1958. I rose to sergeant and lieutenant there and wound up writing a master’s thesis that became a book, “Police Intelligence” [an oxymoron?]. It should never have been published because it wasn’t a book but a dessicated account of the unit’s operations. It contained a section on The Nation of Islam (NOI) and Malcolm X. The book’s turgid, soporific prose proved an unexpected boon to insomniacs.
I knew Malcolm X through my dealings with him over demonstrations, and I attended many, many street meetings at which he spoke—on Saturday afternoons at 125th Street and 7th Avenue. The heart of Harlem
Climbing the Hill at Lake Pepin
Recently people in Alabama, Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Massachusetts and North Minneapolis have been devastated by Tornados. In Arizona and New Mexico forest fires have destroyed communities. Hundreds of people have died and thousands have lost loved ones. Tens of thousands of people have lost the stuff of their lives: homes, essentials for eating, dressing and work, and things that make them comfortable, bring joy and provide them with a sense of themselves.
The corporate/GOP attack on America’s middle class
Governor Scott Walker’s autocratic attempt to abrogate the democratic right of public employees to bargain with their governmental bosses is not wearing well with the public. Recent polls show that a mere one-third of Wisconsinites favor his blatantly-political power play, and that if he had told voters in the last year’s election that he intended to do this, he would’ve lost. After only one month in office, Walker’s approval rating has plummeted, and he’s become a national poster boy for right-wing anti-union extremism—indeed, he’s so out of step that he’s even being jeered by democracy fighters in Egypt!
Celebrate Summer on 66th Street
Since 1990, the Richfield Farmers Market
Check out your local Richfield Farmers Market at Veteran’s Memorial Park, 6400 Portland Ave., from 7 a.m. to noon every Saturday.
It is a growers’ market, which means that growers are also the sellers and they bring their product on a weekly basis from within 200 miles. Generally, the produce that you buy on Saturday mornings has been picked the day before. Products offered at the market include fresh produce, bedding plants, fresh-cut flowers, hanging baskets, herbs, honey, Breadsmith Bakery, Eichten’s Cheese & Buffalo Meat, and more.
Betty’s 100th birthday
“It’s safe to say the world runs on shared experience (and maybe caffeine),” wrote Malinda Just, a columnist in my brother’s Kansas community paper. In the column, she described shared experiences in her daily life as a young parent, followed by an account of her ectopic pregnancy with its inevitable miscarriage and a description of the experience as shared with her husband, medical caregivers and women who’d been there.
It was beautiful writing.
I liked it that she named “shared experience,” something so obvious, as a key, essential part of living. A foundation. Instead of saying the world runs on love, lust, relationships, greed or money, she said it runs on shared experience. And indeed, where would anyone be without it? It’s something everyone knows about, a common denominator.