A sequel to A Boy, an Orphanage, a Cuban Refugee: The Road to Freedom.
Mom, Norma, and I settled in Newark, New Jersey, arriving there on April 30, 1963. Fourteen months earlier, Norma and I had taken refuge in the US after fleeing Castro’s communist police state. We were interred for six weeks in a refugee camp for unescorted Cuban children in Florida City. Then we went to an orphanage in Indiana, residing there for a year, until our reunion with our mom.
She rented a second-floor apartment in a two-story house with four units, located two blocks from Saint Antoninus Church, which had a racially integrated grammar school. In my estimation, Newark was a quiet, pleasant town. We weren’t aware of the cauldron that would soon erupt into the Race Riots. At the time – 1963 – it was quite pleasant. Well, that was my impression.
But what did I know? I was just a kid.
Although the 1967 Newark Race Riots occurred over a period of a few days, from July 12th through the 17th, there was a significant loss of life and hundreds of people were severely injured. Indeed, racial tensions were clearly perceptible as early as 1964. You could smell the foreboding in the air. People felt restless and anxious.
The Newark Race Riots were just part of a national occurrence which produced over 150 riots during “The Long Hot Summer of 1967” – as some historians labeled it.
The Riots generated a chapter of ferocious, armed warfare in the streets, causing severe property damage. Massive fires, caused by arson, destroyed many of the city's buildings. The National Guard occupied the city.
Tanks in the street. Snipers on rooftops.
Storefronts shattered. Looting. Arson.
People killed.
Safe Harbor?
Copyright © 2022 Tony Dora - All Rights Reserv
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