Out Of The Ashes

Thirty years after the Detroit riots, Jews and bladis
SENIOR WRITER AND
STAFF WRITER
rebuild a city and an alliance.

JULIE EDGAR

t all began in a build-
ing that had once
housed Congregation
Shaarey Zedek.
By 1967, the for-
mer synagogue at
12th and Clairmount
had become a blind
pig. On July 23 of
that year, police raid-
ed the place, sparking
one of the worst civil
disturbances in U.S. history.
Although the turbulent year
of 1967 witnessed 59 riots
throughout the country, Detroit's
was by far the most extensive.
Four hundred and twelve build-
ings were burned or damaged
enough to be demolished. Loot-
ing and arson were rampant. Na-
tional guardsmen and federal
troops were called in to maintain
order. Forty-three people were
killed, many as a result of mili-
tary and police error. Monetary
damage to the city and property

li

owners was estimated at be-
tween $40 and $80 million.
In the 30 years that have fol-
lowed, the riots have taken an al-
most mythic place in Detroit
history. For many blacks, they
signify the beginning of their em-
powerment after years of despair
under an oppressive, white-dom-
inated political regime. For many
Jews, they signify the end of their
active participation in the city.
Yet, while many blame the ri-
ots for the decades of urban ne-
glect that followed, the eruption
was merely a benchmark of
changes that were already steadi-
ly occurring. Factors, such as the
construction of interstate high-
ways leading to the suburbs and
federal mortgage assistance to
suburban home-buyers triggered
the beginnings of "white flight"
long before the first store was
looted in 1967.
While no statistics are avail-
able, demographer Patricia Beck-

JULIE WIENER

er said that the riots accelerat-
ed Jewish migration away from
the city, but "coincided with the
time that natural turnover was
occurring anyway. Basically, the
Jewish community had been
moving northwest at a rate of
three miles a decade."
According to Becker, most
young Jewish families were al-
ready in the suburbs by 1967,
and the rest of the population fol-
lowed in the decade after.
Contrary to the legends of
"white flight," she said, most of the
Jews who stayed through the
1960's did not move out of the city
simply because they had black
neighbors. But racially volatile is-
sues like mandatory busing made
many Jews uneasy. And for the
empty-nesters whose children had
already moved to the suburbs,
staying alone in their old homes
in the city became less attractive.
Not only did Jews leave their
homes in Detroit, but most left

their businesses as well. Fifteen
percent of the stores located in
the riot area were Jewish-owned,
and many, but not all, of the 78
Jewish stores there were looted,
writes Professor Sidney Bolkosky
in his history of Detroit's Jewish
community, Harmony and Dis-
sonance. According to Bolkosky,
Jewish stores were not singled
out for looting; in fact a few stores
that enjoyed good relations with
the black community were
spared. But most looters and ar-
sonists did not differentiate be-
tween stores, and even some
black-owned businesses were hit.
Few Jewish stores were rebuilt
after the riots, said Bolkosky in
an interview.
Movement of Jewish institu-
tions reflected the changes in the
community, with new syna-
gogues springing up in the sub-
urbs and older synagogues
moving out of Detroit. In 1952,
Temple Emanu-El opened its

Taking Charge Of The Future

N. Charles
Anderson: Blacks
and Jews have
common concerns.

Detroit Urban League President N. Charles
Anderson often finds himself responding
to white people who argue they were born
after slavery and thus cannot be blamed for
deep-seated racism in this country.
It's an argument that doesn't sit well
with him.
"If you're born into this country — or
if you come here -- you have to deal
with what was happening to this coun-
try prior to your arrival," he said.
"Maybe you didn't cause it, but you can
fix it."
As someone who moved to Detroit 9
years after the riots, he has lived his
own philosophy. Although he is a native
of North Carolina, Anderson — who re-
cently returned to the Urban League af-
ter a three-year stint in Mayor Dennis
Archer's administration — has made a
career of tackling a legacy of racism and
poverty in Detroit.
With Detroit suffering a long period
of neglect, it has not always been easy.
"I recall folks saying things like, The
last person out of Detroit, please turn
out the lights,"' he said.

But he feels encouraged now by the "ac-
celerated pace of progress" in the city today,
citing the growing number of businesses in-
vesting, the casinos and the sports teams.
Throughout his career, he's enjoyed strong
relations with the Jewish community. A for-
mer national NAACP staffer, he was in-
volved in numerous black-Jewish dialogues
and worked with Jewish organizations to
lobby for national legislation of mutual in-
terest. During his tenure at the Detroit Ur-
ban League, an organization providing
educational opportunities and other services
for inner- city blacks, he has maintained close
ties to the Jewish community. Together with
the American Jewish Committee, the Urban
League sponsors an annual breakfast hon-
oring Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday.
In addition, Anderson frequently meets
with Jewish Community Council leaders,
such as David Gad-Harf.
"I find the discussions [with Jewish or-
ganizations] helpful and constructive," he
said. "It keeps the doors open and helps avoid
polarization."
The Urban League's connection to
the Jewish community dates back long be-

doors in Oak Park. Two years lat-
er, Oak Park's Beth Shalom was
founded. B'nai Moshe left Detroit
in 1959, and Congregation
Shaarey Zedek left in 1962. In
the decade after the riots, Adat
Shalom, Temple Beth El and oth-
er synagogues packed up their
Torahs and crossed Eight Mile
Road. Today, only Congregation
T'Chiyah and the Isaac Agree
Downtown Synagogue still have
services in the city.
As Becker points out, the ex-
odus continues, with many Jews
and their institutions leaving
Southfield and Oak Park for
more spacious homes to the
northwest.
At the 30th anniversary of this
seminal event, Detroit seems to
be finding itself. Suburbs and city
are beginning to work together
to foster its rebirth. Blacks and
Jews — who after years of mov-
ing apart may — are finding corn-
mon ground again.

JULIE WIENER STAFF WRITER

fore Anderson. Numerous Jews have served
on the organization's board, and its home
on Mack Avenue was designed by Jewish
architect Albert Kahn, who lived in the
house before bequeathing it to the Urban
League.
Despite the history of working together,
Anderson recognizes the obstacles dividing
metropolitan Detroit's blacks and Jews —
the prominence of anti-Semitic leader Louis
Farrakhan and disputes over affirmative ac-
tion, among them.
`There's a level of skepticism among peo-
ple in the community about people who
would want to come back to the community
and 'help out' after leaving," he said. "Be-
cause the best help would have been to main-
tain the tax base, to plant your flag in the
sand and stay where you were."
Yet, he is optimistic.
"The opportunity for the African-Ameri-
can and Jewish communities to work to-
gether for the common good is great," said
Anderson. "There are a lot of areas — eco-
nomic development, education (including an
opposition to school vouchers) — where we
probably will continue to agree upon."

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