Milwaukee has a well-deserved reputation as perhaps the worst city in the country to raise an African-American child. The city's intense segregation and disparity did not happen overnight, but are the result of decades of practices and policies.
Following is an excerpt from Chapter 7 of my book Lessons from the Heartland: A Turbulent Half Century of Public Education in an Iconic American City. The chapter details the tumultuous events of the summer of 1967 — both the city's long-standing practice of valuing law and order over social justice, and the power of sustained grass-roots organizing.
Chapter 7
1967–68: OPEN HOUSING
MOVES TO CENTER STAGE
A Good Groppi Is a Dead Groppi.
—White supremacist sign during Milwaukee’s open housing marches
—White supremacist sign during Milwaukee’s open housing marches
Except for Alderman Vel Phillips, who
had been raising the issue for five years, no alderman would even consider the
topic [of Open Housing]. “Seventeen white Milwaukee aldermen listened silently
for 30 minutes Tuesday while their lone Negro colleague urged them to consider
the adoption of a city fair housing ordinance,” the Milwaukee Sentinel wrote of the day’s events. “Then, without a word
of comment or criticism, they voted to reject the proposal.”
That summer, Phillips got support from
outside the council. Father James Groppi and the NAACP Youth Council launched
their Open Housing campaign, demanding the city pass legislation prohibiting
discrimination in the sale, lease, and rental of housing property in Milwaukee.
The campaign began with picketing outside the homes of prominent aldermen. On
July 30, however, the marches were interrupted by what in Milwaukee are known
as the 1967 Riots, part of a national explosion of pent- up black rage.
In Milwaukee, as in other cities, anger
in the black community had long simmered over police brutality, unemployment,
housing discrimination, school segregation, political and economic
disenfranchisement, and the refusal of the white power structure to acknowledge
the pressing need for change. On July 12, 1967, disturbances broke out in
Newark, New Jersey, sparked when two white policemen arrested a black cabdriver
for improperly passing them. Rumors that the cabbie had been killed led to six
days of rage, leaving twenty- six people dead. Less than a week aft er the end
of Newark’s riots, Detroit was in flames. Police action— this time against an aft
er- hours bar— once again lit the fi re. Disturbances grew so intense that not
only did the governor call out the Michigan National Guard, but President Lyndon
B. Johnson sent in army troops equipped with machine guns and tanks. The riots
lasted five days, leaving forty- three people dead and more than two thousand
buildings destroyed.
Milwaukee’s two-day upheaval began the night
of July 30. By national standards, it was a relatively small disturbance. But
it left whites in Milwaukee absolutely terrified, and it had a lasting impact
on the city’s psyche.
The outbreak was fueled by rumors that
a white policeman had killed an African American boy. Before long, the central
city was beset with arson, gunshots, and looting. At around 3:00 a.m., Mayor
Henry Maier instituted a twenty- four- hour curfew and asked that the National
Guard be called out. Only emergency and medical personnel were to leave their
homes. Mail delivery and bus ser vice were suspended. Those who violated the
curfew were subject to immediate arrest.
The following morning, the city’s
freeways and streets were empty and still. Six armored personnel carriers, each
mounted with a .50 caliber machine gun, were ordered into the Milwaukee area.
In the central city, the Milwaukee Journal reported, “every pedestrian and
civilian vehicle was challenged by troops armed with bayonet- tipped rifles.”
The riots left four people dead, almost a hundred injured, and 1,740 arrested.
Maier’s show of force was widely
praised as saving the city from even more devastating consequences. At the same time, nothing of substance was
done to alleviate the conditions leading to the unrest and anger in the African
American community. [emphasis
added.]
Shortly after the riots, Father Groppi
and the NAACP Youth Council again took up their demands for open housing. And,
just as they had crossed into the suburb of Wauwatosa, the civil rights
demonstrators were not afraid to venture into white supremacist strongholds of
Milwaukee. The decision led to the now legendary marches across the Sixteenth
Street Viaduct separating the city’s downtown and Inner Core from the South
Side.
On Monday, August 28, 1967, protesters
gathered at St. Boniface in the central city. For the first time, they set out
for the South Side, infamous as a stronghold of ethnic whites opposed to civil
rights.
In a tribute to Father Groppi’s
reputation among his former South Side parishioners, a small group of
supportive whites from St. Veronica’s met the demonstrators at the beginning of
their march across the bridge.1 By the time the protesters walked the half mile across the
bridge, however, matters had changed. Most of the three thousand whites on the other
side were hostile, with signs that read “A Good Groppi Is a Dead Groppi.” Some
yelled “Sieg heil,” others “Go back to Africa.” The marchers continued. Before
long, counterdemonstrators along the march route were throwing bottles, stones,
and chunks of wood at them. Another five thousand white counterdemonstrators
were waiting when the civil rights protesters arrived at their destination,
Kosciuszko Park in the heart of the South Side.
The next night, Groppi and the Youth
Council once again headed to the South Side. This time, an estimated thirteen
thousand counterdemonstrators challenged them. Once again, Groppi and the
marchers continued. After their march, they returned to their Freedom House in
the Inner Core. At about 9:30 p.m., the house was on fi re. Groppi said the
police started the fi re with tear gas; the police said a firebomb had been
tossed into the house by an unknown person. When fi re trucks arrived, the
police would not let them near, citing reports of gunshots and fears of a
sniper. “Youth council members said the gunshots came from police weapons,”
writes journalist Frank Aukofer in his civil rights history of Milwaukee. “No
arsonist or sniper ever was found.”2
After the day’s events, Mayor Maier banned
nighttime demonstrations. On the night of August 30, however, Groppi held a
rally at the burned- out Freedom House and led a march down city streets.
Police ultimately arrested fift y-eight people.3 The next night, declaring that Maier’s ban violated their
First Amendment rights of assembly, marchers headed toward city hall. Some 137
people were arrested, including Alderman Phillips and Father Groppi.
Within days, the mayor was forced to
lift his ban. Keeping their promise to continue marching every day, Father
Groppi and the Youth Council didn’t stop even during the cold winter months,
when temperatures sometimes dipped below zero.
On the South Side, white racists organized
Milwaukee Citizens for Closed Housing, led by a white priest, Father Russell
Witon. Decrying “forced open
housing,” Father Witon and his supporters organized counterdemonstrations at
the Milwaukee archdiocesan chancery office and in the central city. The group,
however, had more fury than staying power. Their efforts dwindled.
Open housing supporters, meanwhile,
refused to give up. Beginning with the walk across the Sixteenth Street Viaduct
on August 28, 1967, they continued with marches and protests for two hundred
consecutive days.4 Finally, propelled
by national events, Milwaukee’s power brokers realized they could no longer
hold onto the past. On April 30, 1968, Milwaukee’s Common Council finally passed
the open housing bill. The vote occurred two weeks after Martin Luther King Jr.
was assassinated during his campaign in support of striking sanitation workers
in Memphis. Riots of rage broke out across the country. In Milwaukee, an
estimated fifteen thousand to twenty thousand people marched somberly but
peacefully through downtown.
The open housing legislation ended a long
chapter in Milwaukee’s civil rights struggles, spanning almost a decade and
involving the city’s seminal civil rights leaders and organizations. As early
as 1961, [Desegregation activist Lloyd] Barbee helped organize a thirteen-day
sit-in at the state capitol to ban discrimination in housing. In 1965, by that
time a legislator, Barbee successfully co-sponsored statewide open housing
legislation, but even supporters acknowledged it was a weak bill. In Milwaukee,
meanwhile, Phillips and Groppi were pushing the more comprehensive local ordinance.
Barbee, Phillips, Groppi, and countless
other activists easily moved between housing, school, and employment issues. They
believed not only that the issues were inherently intertwined but also that
they all had deep roots in overarching problems of racism and discrimination.
...
