May 13 and May 31 are the respective anniversaries of two of the most horrific events and their aftermath in American history.
Two Black communities were leveled to the ground – one in Tulsa, OK., the other in Philadelphia.
Racists ravished Tulsa. A Black mayor approved the unprecedented domestic bombing of one of his own city neighborhoods.
It was no accident that the targets were African Americans. Black bodies and Black futures became collateral damage.
For the first time, Philly held a day of remembrance that acknowledged one of the worst atrocities in the city’s history. On May 13, 1985 city officials led by its first African American mayor, Wilson Goode, made the decision to bomb the compound of MOVE.
Sick and tired of dealing with the unapologetic back-to-nature group MOVE, officials concluded that dropping a satchel bomb down a chimney was the solution. It was only last year that a formal apology was made by the city of Philadelphia.
The bomb ignited a fire that burned wildly as police and firefighters did nothing, following directives to let it burn. A city block of Osage Avenue went down in flames; 61 homes were reduced to rubble as the hopes and dreams of its residents went up in smoke. There were only two MOVE survivors; the other 11, including five children, perished in the inferno.
It was discovered recently that the remains of murdered MOVE children were missing from police evidence. Once the investigation had ended, the bones ended up in the hands of anthropologist Alan Mann who used them in his university class as a case study in forensics. This happened without the knowledge or permission of the parents. The assault on Black bodies continued even after death. So much for the apology.
The Tulsa Massacre took place on May 31,1921 when white mobs responded to a rumor that a young white woman had been attacked by a Black teenager.
Dick Rowland barely escaped lynching. When the Ku Klux Klan could not get to him before he was hustled out of town, it turned its racist outrage onto Black Wall Street. Greenwood’s business district had earned this nickname because of its size and prosperity.
The Tulsa Black community courageously defended itself, but it was hardly a fair fight. Over the next couple of days, dozens of businesses, churches and even a hospital in the Greenwood neighborhood were set ablaze. The fiery finale was a barrage of explosive air raids.
The Tulsa Massacre is one of the worst in this country’s history. The exact number of fatalities remains unknown. Historians believe as many as 300 people died. We do know that 35 square blocks were demolished, and an estimated 10,000 Black folks were left homeless.
This month, Tulsa is coming face to face with its traumatizing past. This is the 100th anniversary of the gruesome massacre as Black people continue the fight to make our lives matter in 2021.
Viola Fletcher, one of the last three survivors of the 1921 race massacre told members of the House Judiciary Subcommittee last Wednesday “Two weeks ago I celebrated my 107th birthday. I am here seeking justice and asking my country to acknowledge what happened in Tulsa in 1921.”
She, her 100-year-old brother and another survivor told the committee that there should be reparations for one of the worst episodes of viscous racial violence in the country’s history.
Many in Tulsa believe the commemorative activities are hollow, calling them mostly attempts to bury the extent of the pain and destruction. It has taken decades for the truth to be fully acknowledged. Plus, there has not yet been serious discussions about reparations for the massacre victims.
Looking back, and facing the present, the perennial question is; will Black lives ever truly matter?