Yesterday I had a virtual visit with my therapist that I needed to see again after reading more fraudulent history of my family. We talked about redemption, what is redeeming, and going forward in a positive and creative manner – while others put forth a destructive course aimed at only benefitting themselves. Why must I do all the real hard work, which is to come up with more inspiration, and conjure up more miracles, while outsiders are digging a dark pit of despair for me – and my diseased and deceased kin! All six of us were alcoholics. To read books and webpages written about us by those who did not suffer like we did, is to read books on Mile’s Davis and Charlie Parker written by neo-Confederate White Supremists who love Jazz, but wish only white folks played Jazz. There, I did it. I came up with – how it feels – I telling my therapists I can’t find applicable adjectives.
Christine and I were in Boston together, with Michael Dundon who grew up in Rhode Island. His brother married my youngest sister. I would end up trying to find room on the floor of this homeless shelter. From there I ended up living on Beacon Hill and taking the Mafia to court, along with my black neighbors. Together we formed a home-spun religion that a producer wanted to film for a PBS series Religion In America. We went to an art gallery where cameras awaited us. We were very radical. Before that I lived with four other white hippies in Roxbury and interacted with the Mel Lyman commune up the street. I am kin to Jessie Benton. Maybe I can drive tour bus and point out The Inclusive Boston I and my trailblazer friends mapped in 1970. There is nothing new under the sun.
For a month I have been on Zillow looking for homes for sale in Boston. I have given up on looking for homes for sale in Belmont which told me they do not need my brand of inclusiveness, that is too radical, and, we all were hippies once upon a time, and now THEY are something else. My family history does not FIT IN because I submitted posts on the Black Panthers, Vice President, Kamala Harris, the formation of the Marin Shipmates, a all black Naval organization – which turned out to give China and Russia second thoughts when they put disgruntled and perhaps unpatriotic black folks – in their back pocket. Did I tell you my grandfather claimed we descend from Captain Isaac Hull who captained the U.S.S. Constitution? The problem here, he allegedly – had no children! I don’t buy it. He was a lady’s man who took the Hart sister’s on cruises.
My grandmother took in Bobby and Jackie Jensen and raised them when their mother had a nervous breakdown. Jackie played for the Boston Red Sox. He married a very white Olympic Swimmer. Together, they were Mr. and Mrs. Sports – that was ALL WHITE at one time in America! This is why I stopped slouching in my easy chair and perked up when I’m hearing a black voice inviting black people to come to Boston and take pride in Liberty City. What do black folks have to do with wanting to be free? Freedom is for white people – only! Mayor Kim Janey has a lot of guts standing up to those who love Miles, but don’t love black folks who demand they own Civil Rights.
Mayor Kim Janey on Monday unveiled a new ad campaign that aims to promote the recovery of the city’s tourism and hospitality industries across all of Boston’s neighborhoods.
Janey and the city’s advertising partners visited Hibernian Hall in Roxbury to announce the new campaign, “All Inclusive Boston.”
“Every time that I see this video, and certainly the first time, really moved me. It moves me because for the first time I see our city promoting itself in a way that I feel seen,” the mayor said.
Officials said the ads are focused on driving visits from people who can reach Boston by car. The ads will appear in the city itself, throughout Massachusetts, New England and the tri-state area.
Janey’s office described the campaign as “designed to promote an equitable recovery for Boston’s tourism and hospitality industries, and small and local businesses, with a focus on connecting our downtown core with the vibrant neighborhoods citywide.”
“There are so many wonderful things that happen every single day with ordinary people right in our neighborhoods. And so to have this campaign really validate that, I think, is so powerful — particularly as we focus on recovery, reopening and renewal and making sure that is equitable as we come out of this pandemic and as we deal with structural racism and the wounds that still remain here,” Janey said.
The announcement comes as the city and state cautiously advance reopening plans while carefully watching a rising number of COVID-19 cases and the ongoing vaccine rollout. “Travel and hospitality is Boston’s third-largest industry, with a workforce that is 70% people of color. Or public health and economic recovery from the pandemic must include the workers and businesses that have taken the hardest
Above is me in 1971. I lived on Beacon Hill in this apartment building. I had unlimited guts. I took on the whole world.
In 1971 my attorney told those who refused to move out of our home on 40 Anderson Street, a four story building on Beacon Hill, to move to the top floor for our safety. I was in a legal battle with the brother-in-law of the head of Boston’s Mafia, and they were losing. This guy was a top-notch attorney. The owner of the grocery store down the street who liked me, said;
“They want their building back. They will hurt you.”
When I heard the door being kicked in on the main floor, I rushed downstairs to find the door to the old managers apartment knocked off its hinges. Then I heard the awful sound of the squatter’s three month old black lab having its throat cut. I shouted;
“Get out there!”
There was silence, and then this question;
“Are you the manager?”
“Yes! Get out!”
“You come in here!”
“We got something for you!” said the second voice.
When I refused, they came out carrying bloody knives. I stood my ground. Just them, Shaheb let out a long blast from his horn. He was on the steps with three of my neighbors. These demons folded their knives, walked passed me with smirks on their face, and were out the door. I rushed to find the puppy. I almost fainted when I saw its blood smeared on every wall. I went in search of her and found her body stuffed behind the toilet. I picked her up. She was still warm. I began to cry. I began to wipe her blood off the walls before her owners came home. When they did, I was still crying because it was my vanity, our vanity, that killed her. She was completely innocent. She didn’t have a clue about the battle for the building she lived in. She was happy. She was horrified by the cruelty inflicted on her. I will forever hear her cries.
We won our case. No one likes killers of puppies. Not ever the mob bosses. This is when Shaheb told me he was considering getting guns to fight for the building that was sold in auction to a family construction company who never made the changes they said they were. It took all the light I could muster to talk Shaheb out of a armed stand-off.