For years, PLP and its ant-racist arm, International Committee Against Racism (INCAR) maintained regular activities in Marquette Park. There were periodic marches, rallies, even integrated pop-up softball games where the outfielders played their positions with a bat at the ready. The Skokie publicity given to the Nazis demanded a decisive response. We increased our activities, looking for more creative ways to challenge the Nazis, to dislodge them from Marquette Park and their base in the community.
The publicity, discussion and debate about Skokie clearly helped move the center to the left. More youth and workers wanted to wipe out the Nazis, not debate them. Initially, during the period when the courts delayed or denied the Nazis their permit for Skokie, they turned to rallies in other suburbs, whose residents openly resisted racial change such as Dolton and South Holland. The police had not yet perfected their protection strategies (such as not allowing counter-demonstrators anywhere near Nazis) so it was possible to disrupt, even attack these rallies. And we did.
In the period of 1978 and 1979 we took direct actions against the Nazis, in their own headquarters and in Marquette Park. Several were successful, one a bit amusing, though not particularly a success. Collin had struck the idea of holding happy birthday festivities commemorating Hitler's birthday in April. Because he was almost always guaranteed radio, newspaper and TV press coverage, why not? I came up with the idea of ruining Hitler's party. I wanted to do something dramatic to embarrass and expose these Nazis as braggarts who couldn't even protect their own building.
The idea was to raise a Red Flag on the Nazis own roof. We were familiar with two-flats in Chicago. They all have a roof hatch made of wood. The idea was to wait until the middle of the night, then have someone climb up the electrical pole alongside the building to get on the roof. Once there, our comrade on the roof would take a hammer and nail the hatch shut from the outside. Then the Red Flag would be unfurled on top of Nazi headquarters! In the morning, when the press showed up to cover Collin and his cohorts celebrating Hitler's birthday, the storyline would shift to how the communists embarrassed the Nazis in their own backyard. Collin would be exposed as the fool that he was.
We had to recruit someone who was brave, intrepid and physically able to complete this task. My brother Ben agreed to do it right away. The next problem that our surveillance revealed was two German Sheppard dogs, big and loud, in the back yard. The night before, we threw two big balls of rat-poisoned laced hamburger over the fence. That took care of the dogs. But the one thing we didn't foresee and could not counter was the sentry in the second floor window -- all night long with a rifle in his arm. That scuttled the razzamatazz approach, and the vision of the Red Flag flying over Nazi headquarters.
So instead, we decided to show up for an unannounced picket on the sidewalk in front of the Nazi building on a Saturday. We didn't even tell our own members and friends about our plan until a few minutes before the "pop-up" demonstration. We were concerned about the police spies that we routinely uncovered who came to meetings, participated in activities and filed reports with the FBI and Chicago Police Red Squad. We were having a conference, made the announcement asking volunteers to get into cars immediately and drove to the front of the Nazis 71st Street building. Loudly and with placards hoisted militantly above our heads, about 100 of us began a picket line right in front of the door. We didn't have to wait long for the police; they were inside playing cards with Collin and a few of his goons.
The Nazis were proud of their violent past. They didn't shy away from the death camps, the mass murder, the gas ovens, their grotesque "racial science", and the hatred and misery they brought to tens of millions. They made it clear that while they considered black people and Jews to be "untermenschen" or inferior, their main enemies were communists. Frank Collin repeated this on many occasions. The feelings were likewise.
After much collective deliberation, we organized a violent attack on the Nazis in their headquarters. I recruited volunteers, an integrated group of twenty-five young men and women. They were all from Chicago. We had two more come from our PLP office in New York to insure leadership and success in the task at hand. There was no training, only a meeting to discuss the idea of a surprise attack, going inside the hall during a public event and beating the hell out of everyone in sight. No one was told the proposed date or details. We knew that the Nazis showed World War II films glorifying Hitler on select Friday nights, part of their recruitment strategy. They especially concentrated on inviting teens, eyeing to enlist them. We had someone posted down the block at a pay phone, watching the front door and counting as they entered. When the call came that said about 20-25 were inside and the movie had started, we gathered our pipes and bats, silk stocking face-masks, black stocking hats and buckets of paint and headed to 71st Street to confront the bastards.
It was pitch dark and we quickly got out of the cars and lined up on the sidewalk on either side of the front door. As planned, two young women knocked on the door. When the door opened slightly, they explained that they were students from the University of Illinois interested in observing and interviewing the Nazis. The door flew open and the attackers rushed in. We struck everyone in our way. I hit one guy in the head who surprisingly shook me off. Turns out he was older, probably in his 50's, probably a WWII veteran, a real Nazi. I hit him again and again. I later saw him in court with a broken arm. We obliterated the place. There were more people inside than we had been advised, between 40 and 50. But half, the youths that the Nazis hoped to enlist, ran out the back door. Those who stayed and fought had fought before. So it wasn't easy. But we hurt them badly, smashing everyone and everything. The paint added a destructive coda to our action. When I heard one of them yell to get the guns, I gave the all-clear signal for us to leave hurriedly. I was the last one out and thought all of our people had already fled. I was wrong however. One comrade, a Latina, had fallen under a table in the fight, unseen by me.
The Nazis fired a pistol as we were running down the street to the corner where the cars were waiting. I was shot in the hand, a minor injury. A more serious injury was one of our guys who was struck in the eye permanently damaging his eyesight. Our comrade who was left behind was beaten and terrorized by the Nazis before the police came. She was arrested and charged with multiple felonies. There was a drawn out court case, and the charges were eventually dropped or reduced.
There was some press coverage, not much, but it probably wasn't necessary in the neighborhood. The word got out quickly. The communists beat up the Nazis in their own headquarters. Those who fled out the back door would not come back. And the ones who stayed and got bloodied only broadcast the Nazis embarrassing defeat. Collin, the new fuhrer, was exposed as a bungling idiot.
In 1979, PLP decided its annual Midwest May Day March would be in Marquette Park. There was a great deal of organizing by a lot of dedicated high school students and teachers, college students, hospital workers, bus drivers, steel and auto workers and others encompassing all walks of life. Marching into Marquette Park with blacks, whites and Latinos heralded a new day. Tens of thousands of flyers, pamphlets, newspapers, stickers were produced and distributed. I don't remember how much money we raised to pay for the whole thing, but it was a hell of a lot by our standards. We held numerous fundraisers and collected money at the places where we worked and the campuses where we studied.
Getting a permit for the May Day March turned out to be a big obstacle. We applied for permits to use Ogden Park on the east in an all-black neighborhood, march west on 67th (Marquette Road) to the north side of the park and then rally in Marquette Park itself. The City through the Chicago Park District issued the permit for the rally but denied the one for the march. The trumped up reason was that we would have to go by a hospital and thus violate a "quiet zone". We debated numerous alternative routes while filing suit in Federal Court suing the City of Chicago.
We ended up having a court hearing where I testified about all the hurdles the City placed before us. I was particularly unimpressed with the City's lawyer, one of the extended Daley family, who was especially inept. Our lawyer was the better one and for whatever reason, the judge, Frank McGarr, called a recess, taking both lawyers into his office. He asked the Daley to come up with a better reason to justify a denial of the permit application. The bumbler couldn't. McGarr said, "What do you care, let the communists and the Nazis kill each other. Give them the permit."
An interesting aside: Clarence Page, a young black reporter for the Chicago Tribune, was the only press in the court that day. He was eager to hear as much as we were willing to tell. So, I invited him to join us afterwards at the Dill Pickle, a small deli joint at the corner of Dearborn and Van Buren for a corned beef sandwich. He asked questions and took copious notes. As we said our good-byes, I asked him, "Clarence, you think any of this will appear in the paper?" "No, they haven't much interest in anti-racism." He was absolutely correct -- not a word. Page quickly learned and moved up the ladder. He is still with the Tribune. And a television talking head, pontificating and spouting nothings on several channels, locally and nationally.
The May Day March was a success. About 700 gathered in Ogden Park, east of Marquette on 67th. We would march twenty blocks east and the same route back. Hundreds of cops lined the route including many roof-top snipers. I was particularly worried about any incident that would incite some trigger-happy cop and create a disaster. But the beginning rally with speakers and music set the tone for a militant, yet disciplined march. Those who came knew the danger and also knew the opportunity. They had months of preparation and were committed to making the march an aggressive statement and successful declaration of anti-racism and revolutionary dedication.
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