In the fall of 1966, a phenomenon hit the country—four appealing
young men known as The Monkees debuted on NBC.
They were often referred to as ‘America’s answer to the Beatles’, but
that wasn’t exactly right. They were
simply actors cast in a television show, but adolescents didn’t care about that
technicality. Young girls everywhere
were smitten with Davy, Mickey, Peter and Mike.
That demographic included me and my bestie, also named Debbie!
Debbie and I lived down the street from each other on
Detroit’s east side. Every Monday night,
we took turns watching The Monkees at each other’s house. The moment their records were released, we
were at the record shop. We were also
faithful followers of ‘Tiger Beat’ and ’16 Magazine’ because we just had to
keep up with everything Monkee. Debbie
liked Davy best while I chose Mickey, but we both agreed that Mike’s green hat
was the ‘grooviest’! Debbie’s mother even knitted us identical green
hats, which we removed when we were in school! We knew we were all that and a bag of chips, as
they say!
When Debbie and I heard that The Monkees were taking a tour,
we were beside ourselves with excitement—especially when we discovered they
were stopping in Detroit. We just knew
we had to see them. They were scheduled
to appear at Olympia Stadium (Home of the Red Wings back then, but now just a
memory) on July 29th.
Somehow, I talked my favorite aunt into taking us there. Tickets were bought well in advance and then
the unthinkable happened. Six days
before the concert, the Detroit Police raided a blind pig on the city’s west
side. For the next four days riots shook
the Motor City leaving 43 dead, over 1,000 wounded and more than 7,000 arrested.There was fighting and looting just a block away from where we lived. By day, we watched looters running down the street toting stereos, radios, and televisions. By night, the continuous sound of gunfire and sirens kept us up. The surreal atmosphere was only enhanced when The National Guard and their tanks took up residence on our street. The entire city was under a strict curfew due to the violence, and then our beloved Monkees cancelled their concert.
Once things calmed down and the city quieted, however, The Monkees rescheduled. Finally, on August 13, 1967, Debbie and I entered Olympia Stadium joining thousands of other young teens who screamed like maniacs as our idols belted out the likes of I’m a Believer, Last Train to Clarksville and I Wanna Be Free. And yes, we wore our green hats.
Hey Deb—do you still have yours? I can’t seem to find mine. Does your mom still knit???
Wow – that is quite a story! I'm glad you got to see the Monkees after all that.
ReplyDeleteI'm not that familiar with these events in Detroit, and am off to do an online search to learn more.
It wasn't fun, but as a kid, I don't think I realized the entire gravity of the situation. Still, I will never forget seeing the soldiers and tanks driving past our house. So glad you 'stopped by'!
Deletelove it--but . . . What's a blind pig?
ReplyDeleteIt's like a speakeasy where they sell illegal hooch!
DeleteAh...I did wonder at all the violent fuss made over an optically-challenged porker.
ReplyDelete