Umar Bin Ha**an - Up South In Akron 1959 (Page 6) lyrics

[Page 6] He couldn't stay mad at me for long, though, because I was making that money. On my way home at the end of a night on Howard Street, I'd stop at Sam's grocery store and pick up a pound of salami, a loaf of bread, a bag of Fritos, and a bottle of soda. That was a meal for my parents and my seven brothers and sisters. After they ate, everybody but me went to bed. I'd stay up and watch “Steve Allen.” Howard Street was patrolled by black cops. I remember Big J, who was one of the first of the very few African-American men in the Akron police department. Big J was big in size and status. He was probably between 40 and 50 years old when I first encountered him in 1956. Six feet tall, maybe six one. Broad chest and wide back. 180 to 200 pounds – and that's a conservative estimate. Sometimes he wore gla**es, sometimes he didn't. A big cigar dripping from the corner of his mouth and a .38 Special at his side. He also carried a billy club, which was connected to his powerful hands by a length of tightly braided rawhide. I had heard all about Big J and his rawhide justice. That billy club and rawhide became the fear and dread of many a rowdy drunk and unsuspecting shoeshine boy caught in the wrong bar at the wrong time. Big J, with his lizard eyes, was always searching for any dysfunctional activity in the midst of his authority and legal domain. And he walked with long, loping strides, like he was coming directly at you, which kept a whole lot of us on razor's edge most of the time. Big J. took his work very seriously. He served the community, but never let himself get too attached to it. All he wanted from you was respect and appreciation for the law. And if he didn't get it, he could be very nasty. One day in the summer of 1959 something happened that changed the way I looked at Big J and the Akron Police Department. Two Black detectives were arguing with this White man in front of the Green Turtle Café and Hotel.