Examines why Philadelphia authorities took extraordinarily disproportionate action against a group called MOVE by dropping military explosives on a residential neighborhood in May 1985.
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John Anderson received his A.B. in history from Rice University. He also holds three graduate degrees from Yale University. The former deputy editor of "American Lawyer, " he is the author of two widely praised nonfiction books "(Burning Down the House" and "Art Held Hostage)." He lives in Ossining, New York, with his wife and son.
This is the last of a 4-book tetralogy I have read on the MOVE tragedy in Philadelphia from 1978-85. In particular, this book best described the day-to-day activities of the group, the neighbors and provided more of a human interest perspective than the previous texts.
The entire second half of the book is devoted to the 1986 trial of Ramona Africa, the only adult to walk away from the bombing of the Osage Avenue block in May 1985. This in itself is worth a read. It was the belief of the MOVE members that representation by court-appointed lawyers was sham since they did not abide any laws of what we know as the "system", so she defended herself. That she was found guilty of the least serious of the felony charges (conspiracy to riot) was telling, especially in jury of mixed race and class Philadelphians. She could have been convicted of attempting to kill police officers, but was not.
I still can't really wrap my head around this particular piece of Philadelphia history. It was definitely a tragedy, not only a failure of the state to prevent disaster but one the state induced. I wish I could feel more shocked by it, but given what I already know about state power, control and the need to suppress any activity/speech/energy that upsets the status quo, I am not.
But the flipped side of the coin is that the MOVE people and movement did not engender warm feelings of total compassion, either. For sure, what was done to them was egregious and wrong, but the kind of cult-like organization they became, replete with bizarre methods of child-rearing, living in filth, fortifying their row home like a military bunker and terrorizing the neighborhood with non-stop bullhorn profane-laden speeches is not something with which I can agree or approve.
There is no happy ending to this book. I am left feeling contempt for the City of Philadelphia and what they had done, and I am left with a feeling of general disgust for the MOVE people and what they became, what they did and how they lived.
However, we do know that Birdie Africa (age 13) also came out of the bunker with Ramona, was saved by a cop, reunited with his biological father and went on to lead a "normal" life in the suburbs of the city as Michael Moses Ward, until his drowning death in 2014. In 2021, Ramona and Sue Africa (a white member, convicted felon with time served, and mother of a child killed inside the home in May 1985) are still outspoken and committed to the original ideals of John Africa, whatever those may have been.
Definitely something everybody should read, a really important and truly fascinating story that is seldom talked about. This book, however, is pretty poorly written and not well-organized or formatted throughout. I haven’t read too many legal procedural type books before, but the entire second half of this book went into pretty exhaustive, long-winded, and at times incredibly dry and superfluous detail on every single thing that happened in the courtroom over the twenty-one day trial. I would hope for a better, more concise book on this story, but they seem hard to find. I’m not upset that I read this, I just wish it could have been better. Learn about MOVE, learn about what happened in 1978 and 1985. Everyone should know about this!
The editing and writing in this text is horrendous, and some details are belabored. That said, the content is facinating--how a group of radicals became the target of a massive firebombing that destroyed an entire neighborhood--and worth reading until you can't take the apostrophe abuse any longer.