The Summer the Black Panthers Roamed
By Jeffrey Salzberger

In the cold, early morning hours of April 2, 1969, before the first streaks of gray crossed the sky, and before the Manhattan buildings basked in the orange haze of the shallow eastern sun, 14 Black Panther Party members were taken from their homes in simultaneous NYPD raids. The charges: conspiring to destroy “the power structure.” A breakdown of the indictments included conspiracy to blow up several department stores, including Macy’s, Alexander’s, Korvette’s, Abercrombie and Fitch and Bloomingdale’s, the Bronx Botanical Gardens and a police station on East 126th Street. They were also charged with plotting to assassinate several New York City police officers.

Many of the members targeted were administrators at Harlem’s Panther headquarters, set up the previous fall under the guidance of Lumumba Shakur, BPP minister of defense. By April 3, 1969, the BPP’s east coast leadership, headquartered at 141st Street and 7th Avenue, was decimated. Those under arrest included: BPP Finance Officer Sundiata Acoli, Afeni Shakur (mother of rapper Tupac Shakur), Field Secretary Dhoruba Bin Wahad and Communications Secretary Rosemary Byrd.

The investigation that led to these arrests was based entirely upon the testimony of a less than scrupulous operative from the NYPD’s Bureau of Special Services and Investigation (BOSSI) who had infiltrated the ranks of the party. There were 21 arrest warrants issued, and these April offensives, netting 14 party members, marked the opening salvos in the government’s war against the Panthers. For the men and women taken into custody, that spring day marked the beginning of a two-year fight.

During this period, Fire Island residents played an important role in raising awareness for the cause of civil rights, and, on a grass-roots level, bail money for the New York Panther 21. Each of the individuals arrested was held on $100,000 bail, an astronomical amount in comparison to white radicals awaiting trial on similar conspiracy charges. The lawyers brought aboard to defend the Panther 21 challenged this excessive bail, on the grounds that it was a violation of their 14th Amendment rights, and that the defendants were essentially being priced out of the equal protection clause.

Bail, in this case, was being used to punish a specific group because of their skin color and economic standing. Put simply, release pending trial was reserved for those who could afford it, according to BPP counsel.

In the summer of 1968, almost certainly in her trademark, garish attire, Florynce Kennedy, attorney, feminist and civil rights crusader, was on Fire Island. She brought a number of her contemporaries. Gerald Lefcourt described their summer dwelling as a “share house of political activists.”

The luminaries in residence included Lefcourt, chief counsel for the Panthers in the east, his brother, writer and activist Robert Lefcourt, and his sister-in-law, Carol Lefcourt, also a prominent attorney and co-counsel for the Panthers. Other housemates included Dr. Howard Levy, fresh from a three-year stint in federal prison for refusing to train medics in protest of the Vietnam War, Grace Atkinson of the National Organization for Women, and Diane Schulder, a prominent feminist writer. Making the acquaintance of this group were New Left writer and island resident Nat Hentoff, and Isador Stone, who was busy putting out the activist IF Weekly. He was so in awe of the group that he would bring a copy of the Times to them on Sundays and stay for a good conversation. Also present was Fire Island News assistant editor and writer Ron Rosenbaum, who covered all the events in detail for the paper.

These Fire Islanders continued a rich tradition of activism, ever present in the community. In 1969, again back for the summer, and this time in pre-trial hearings for the Panther 21, the group participated in protests and actions meant to promote justice and equality.

On one occasion, several members of the Black Panther Party, replete with berets and blue button down shirts, accompanied Florynce Kennedy to dinner at a Fire Island restaurant that would not serve African Americans. It caused quite a row. This incident was repeated over and over again, and would become a legendary anecdote used to illustrate Flo Kennedy’s devotion to a cause and a testament to her sense of humor.

While Gerald Lefcourt was filing briefs to get the incarcerated members of the BPP certain rights that they were being denied—like visits from their attorneys or spouses, and a certain amount of time out of their cells, as up until now they were on 24-hour lockdown—he was putting together an impromptu protest with other Islanders. It started on the beach with a few demonstrators and gathered steam until it hit its target, the exclusive community, Point O’ Woods, with a few hundred people chanting things like, “bring law and order to Point O’ Woods,” and “guess who’s coming to dinner.”

The protesters ended up inside the gates, past the private property signs, and rolled through the walks. On the way out, after very little confrontation except for some harsh words from Suffolk County Police, Flo Kennedy said, “we want herring and gefilte fish in Point O’ Woods dining rooms … we want hamhocks and greens in the Point O’ Woods dining rooms … we want no more black people washing the Point O’ Woods dishes.”

Gerry Lefcourt quoted Puerto Rican revolutionary Luis Campos while leaving, yelling over his shoulder, “When the law is tyranny, the revolution is order.” They marched home that night to the strains of “Till the Walls Come Tumbling Down.” Nat Hentoff was there getting his just desserts, as the previous year he had been denied entry into the Point O’ Woods’ Post Office to mail a letter. He had played an integral part, through his writing, in getting the office shut down. Alan M. Dershowitz, who was at the protest as well, said that even on vacation, it was hard to be comfortable without a cause. The island stirs the activist in all of us.

After more than a year of languishing behind bars, the exhaustive efforts of their attorneys notwithstanding, the New York Panther 21 were about to get some help from Fire Island locals. Gerald Lefcourt and his crew were operating out of Seaview by the summer of 1970, and they, along with Leslie and David Mermelstein of Ocean Beach, helped to launch a fundraiser to raise bail money. The Mermelsteins filed a formal petition with village officials, and in a 3 to 2 vote, the mayor and trustees decided to allow the Panther Defense Fund weekend kick off to take place in the Ocean Beach Community House. That was slated for July 3, 1970. Trustees Fred Charlton and Joe Brady voted in favor of the measure, with Trustees William Urquhart and Wally Pickard opposing. Mayor Arthur Silsdorf broke the tie.

Nat Hentoff was the chairman of the proceedings, and guest speakers included William Kunstler, attorney for the Chicago 7, Abbie Hoffman, legendary radical and founder of the Yippie anti-war movement, and a handful of Panther party members. Literature was distributed in the lobby of the Community House, including Murray Kempton’s “Strangers to Justice.” The Panther Defense Fund would travel to other resort spots like the Hamptons and Cape Cod and would meet with varying degrees of success. The Fire Island gathering was widely attended.

After two years behind bars, the New York Panther 21 were acquitted on all charges brought against them. The date was May 13, 1971. The jury returned a not guilty verdict after only 45 minutes of deliberation. The Black Panther Party would fracture soon after this episode, with many of its east coast members going underground. Fire Island, on the other hand, continues its tradition of activism, and many of its residents take pride in the part they played in the Panthers’ cause.

Marco Vassi, in a poem composed for the occasion, describes the “civil ambience of our shores,” and paints a portrait oof Fire Island as a place to relax and revitalize, but not to stagnate. One’s involvement or activism seems to be an integral part of staying on the island, whether for the summer or for the year, for the mission of equal rights or for local political reform, our residents stay connected with the causes that move them.