Latest / Pionerd / The 1967 North Minneapolis Uprising
Transcript
- THE MISSISSIPPI OF THE NORTH On July 22, 1967, a tense quiet fell over North Minneapolis after three nights of fire and street clashes. Hundreds of armed National Guardsmen lined Plymouth Avenue, enforcing an uneasy peace that shattered a long-held civic myth. For decades, state leaders praised Minnesota as an oasis of civil rights and peace. They pointed to quiet hall meetings and polite public talks as proof of progress. On the pavement of Plymouth Avenue, a far different life played out. Black residents faced severe job limits, housing walls, and harsh police patrol. In July 1967, that deep anger erupted on the Northside streets, joining a wave of over 150 civil uprisings sweeping American cities during the "Long, Hot Summer of 1967." Local activist Spike Moss later named his state "the Mississippi of the North." His words exposed a painful gap in the public image. Today, we track the three summer nights that forced a city to face its own truth. THE PRESSURE COOKER ON PLYMOUTH AVENUE Before World War II, strict land rules blocked Black and Jewish families from buying homes across most of Minneapolis. Both groups settled together on the near Northside, building a dense neighborhood along Plymouth Avenue. In the late 1930s, 70 percent of the city's Jewish population lived on the Northside. When post-war bias eased, Jewish families moved west into suburban St. Louis Park. By 1958, only 38 percent remained, though many kept their shops along Plymouth Avenue. Black residents remained trapped in the same blocks by land limits. By 1967, Black workers faced double the unemployment rate of white neighbors. Unrest first broke out on August 2, 1966, when 50 teenagers returning from the annual Northside picnic destroyed storefronts. Minneapolis Mayor Arthur Naftalin and Governor Karl Rolvaag met with youth at Lovell Square the next day. Naftalin promised immediate jobs, but those promises fell flat. Resentment grew as residents accused absentee shop owners of selling third-class meats at first-class prices. Civil rights organizer John Hampton reported that Black residents felt like they were living in an occupied country. In response, local leaders formed a community center called The Way at 1913 Plymouth Avenue. Organizers Syl Davis, Spike Moss, and the Reverend Rolland Robinson built a haven for youth and political action. The center gave youth a place to learn Black history and organize. According to historical FBI intelligence reports, activist Stokely Carmichael allegedly visited the city months prior and warned that blood would flow. Beneath the new center, tension kept rising along the hot summer streets. THE SPARK AND THE BLAZE On July 19, 1967, high summer heat hung over the downtown streets during the annual Aquatennial Torchlight Parade. Trouble began near the parade route when officers moved in on a crowd. While official police reports recorded an intervention in a street dispute over a wig, neighborhood residents recounted excessive force against teenage bystanders, while federal intelligence reports alleged outside political planning. Police Inspector Donald Dwyer defended his team, saying officers could not be gentle while breaking up a fight. Thirteen Black people were arrested after the first night of disturbances. At 1913 Plymouth Avenue, angry residents met at The Way community center the next evening. Marchers stepped onto the pavement, moving down the block to demand justice from city hall. Within minutes, police officers arrived wearing riot helmets and carrying shotguns. Fights broke out as crowd members threw rocks and bricks at the squad cars. Firefighters worked under a hail of thrown stones as a major blaze damaged buildings along Plymouth Avenue, including commercial storefronts. Down the main strip, several neighborhood businesses caught fire during the night. Flames destroyed Knox Food Market at 1819 Plymouth Avenue, leaving owners Sylvia and David Borken with a total loss. Fire also consumed Silver's Food Market at 1711 Plymouth Avenue, owned by Ethel and Irving Silver. Armed officers guarded the Polar Grill Restaurant at 2001 Plymouth Avenue. At the home of Fifth Ward Alderman Joe Greenstein, someone threw Molotov cocktails. Facing widespread destruction on July 21, Mayor Naftalin walked the streets with adviser Josie Johnson to urge police restraint, acutely aware that cities like Newark had just exploded into deadly street battles. Mayor Naftalin petitioned Governor Harold LeVander for state military help. Governor LeVander authorized 600 Minnesota National Guard troops to deploy to North Minneapolis, South Minneapolis, and St. Paul. BAYONETS, BEATS, AND DEFIANCE On July 21, military trucks rolled onto Northside streets. Among the unit were Minnesota Vikings offensive guard Milt Sunde and linebacker Ron Acks. Head coach Bud Grant called both players off the Mankato practice field when their unit received deployment orders. Within 20 minutes, both men changed into street clothes and headed north. When a teammate noted he was glad not to be going to Vietnam, Acks replied that a person could get shot in Minneapolis too. Guardsmen set up round-the-clock checkpoints along Plymouth Avenue with fixed bayonets. According to resident Sylvia Amos, the arrival of military trucks felt like an invasion of her community. According to civil rights activist Ron Edwards, who observed the scene at age 28, Plymouth Avenue looked like the infernal. Opposite the armed line, director Syl Davis and staff at The Way organized an outdoor street dance with a live band on Friday night. According to former staff member Verlena Matey-Keke, the street dance organized by The Way saved the city by defusing youth anger. Professor Emeritus Mahmoud El-Kati noted that the uprising served as a spark that prompted white suburban residents to request Black history lessons in their living rooms. Mayor Naftalin walked Plymouth Avenue and met with young activists at Lovell Square. He urged police restraint to prevent Minneapolis from becoming another Newark or Detroit, where military forces and heavy gunfire left dozens dead in the streets. By the morning of July 22, as 600 Guard troops secured the strip, the active street violence finally came to an end. City officials stepped onto Plymouth Avenue to tally the fallout. Official logs recorded 18 fires, 36 arrests, 24 injuries, three shootings, $4.2 million in damage, and zero deaths. CONFLICT AND SYSTEMIC FALLOUT In the aftermath of the July unrest, city officials took two divergent paths. Local religious leaders hosted public forums where residents voiced fatigue over police push and shove. Meanwhile, as President Lyndon Johnson formed the Kerner Commission to study national urban unrest, Hennepin County impaneled an all-white grand jury that rejected local community claims. The grand jury concluded that police fired no weapons and found no evidence of police brutality. That claim directly contradicted county hospital logs recording a Black youth treated for a gunshot wound. The grand jury advised that city leaders investigate The Way for inciting trouble. Property owners Ethel and Irving Silver sued the city for the destruction of their grocery store at 1711 Plymouth Avenue. The Minnesota Supreme Court rejected their case, ruling that cities hold no financial liability for riot damage. According to Faye Krupp, daughter of the Silvers, the destruction of the store was a godsend that spared her father from a fatal robbery on the block two months later. Public anger reshaped local politics. In 1969, Minneapolis voters elected police detective Charles Stenvig as mayor on a strict law-and-order platform. That same year, Black students staged the Morrill Hall Takeover at the University of Minnesota, forcing the creation of a Black studies department. Decades later, an institutional irony marked the strip. The Way closed in the 1980s, and the Minneapolis Police Department broke ground on its 4th Precinct headquarters on the exact site at 1913 Plymouth Avenue in 1987. THE UNBROKEN LINE The 1967 Plymouth Avenue rebellion shattered Minnesota's illusion of racial exceptionalism. It proved that polite committee talks and unkept promises could not replace true social justice. Black leaders like Josie Johnson, Syl Davis, Spike Moss, and Mahmoud El-Kati stood firmly between armed state power and angry youth, demanding that the city see its own marginalized citizens. When city leaders chose grand jury denials and law-and-order politics over systemic reform, they left the underlying wounds to fester. From the ashes of Plymouth Avenue to modern street protests, the lesson of 1967 remains clear: lasting peace requires real equity.