GRIEF, & A HARSH HISTORY LESSON

END OF LINE IN ENGLAND

Upon hearing of the reported suicide of Jon Lester, my mind went back 31 years when I got a call about the death of young Michael Griffith after he and two companions were chased while being called the “N-word” in Howard Beach, Queens. The next morning I met with Mrs. Griffith and Cedric Sandiford (one of the victims that night and who married Mrs. Griffith), and I immediately called for a press conference to announce that I would lead a motorcade to Howard Beach right to the pizzeria where it all began.

Most Americans were unaware that even in a place like New York City, it was dangerous, even deadly, for blacks to be in certain neighborhoods.

Lester was arrested as the ringleader of the white racist mob that chased Griffith and two others. Over the next several weeks, many groups — including groups that didn’t agree on things — rallied together for justice.

I remember on the first day of protest, my daughter, Dominique, was only a few months old, and her mother brought her there in a pink blanket. My only fear was for her, not the masses of people calling us horrific names.

We came back that Saturday and 1,200 of us marched, with Benjamin Hooks of the NAACP and some white clergy at the head of the demonstration. I will never forget how hundreds in Howard Beach threw bananas and pieces of watermelon at us, and called us monkeys.

The legal team for Griffith’s family, backed by us, demanded that Gov. Mario Cuomo appoint a special prosecutor because we didn’t trust the Queens DA to properly guide the grand jury. We got a special prosecutor.

As legal proceedings continued, various groups decided to have a day of civil disobedience because we were outraged at the lack of value of our lives. Some blocked bridges; I blocked subways. All told, 32 of us were arrested and spent the night in jail. While we were in jail, Lester was convicted for manslaughter and so were two others.

Upon hearing of his reported suicide, I’m reminded of those days of ugliness and hate and racism, and then I think about today when that baby in a pink blanket 31 years ago got married last Sunday, and how the son of Mario Cuomo is the governor who has appointed (but not legislated yet) a special prosecutor for police-involved killings.

But it is not lost on me that a Queens resident, not too far from Howard Beach, who never spoke up during that time is now President of the United States. Some of the vitriol, anger and racial polarization is back front and center.

Lester’s death brings back not only memories but gives me a feeling of determination that as we see ugly scenes today, we still have a lot of work. I do not celebrate Lester’s death; I consider noble Mrs. Griffith who has spoken of forgiveness.

But in our forgiveness, we should never forget what hate leads to, especially in today’s climate. I give condolences to Lester’s family, but remember that we just saw a young woman mowed down in Charlottesville and I recall the young man who was mowed down 31 years ago in Howard Beach.

The question is, have we learned the lessons of history?