The Mayor of New York said on television, ‘What we’re seeing here is consumer anarchy. We’ve led people to expect certain privileges if they live here in the United States, and one of those privileges is an abundance of food. Now that privilege is threatened, and people won’t let it go lightly. They’ll tear this city apart first.’
In New York, more than anyplace else, the looting quickly took on distinctive social patterns. Up in Harlem, and down in the slums, the break-ins were usually violent, indiscriminate, and often ended in fire. Reports that reached the Police Commissioner’s desk by early Monday morning showed that most of the break-ins in poorer districts netted less than half of the available loot. The rest was smashed, abandoned, or burned. In the better-off parts of the city, however – in the east 80s and around Gramercy Square – the looting was systematic, and efficient, and effected with far less violence. Police surprised eight residents of Olympic Tower working as a co-ordinated looting team, with six station wagons, all legally rented from Hertz, and a truck. They had broken into a Safeway depot on 10th Street, breaking open the gates with bolt-cutters, and by the time a police patrol car came by, they had already loaded their vehicles with a quarter of a million dollars’ worth of foodstuffs. The officers counted two hundred cans of pâté de foie gras, at forty-five dollars a can, and a New York Post reporter remarked, ‘People aren’t taking what they think they’re going to need. They’re taking what they think they’re entitled to.’
By dawn, Detroit was burning. A heavy pall of white smoke hung over Hamtramck and Harper Woods, and they could smell destruction out at St Clair Shores. The night had been wild with helicopters and police patrols and shooting, and when the grimy sun rose over Lake St Clair, there were burned-out vans littering the Detroit Industrial Freeway and the Renaissance Centre was encircled by Michigan National Guard.
The Mayor of Detroit told the newspapers, ‘This was the worst night of my life. Black Sunday. And that isn’t any kind of a joke. This was the night the black people of Detroit let me down.’
The looting and the destruction had been so widespread that the news media hardly knew how to deal with them. From midnight, when the first horrified bulletins began to pour into CBS and NBC and ABC, each television channel had made the decision to stay on the air all night, with almost hysterical first-hand reports from San Francisco, New Orleans, Denver, Chicago, Washington, and New York.
It was easier to tell the individual stories. From Florida, Harold Kane Kaufman-Vorbrüggen of the Cordon Bleu restaurant in Dania, Broward County, hesitantly explained to newsmen how looters had broken into the kitchens and ransacked the larders and refrigerators. They had taken only the steak and the fish, and left thousands of dollars’ worth of truffles and escargots. One of the diners told the news cameras, ‘I guess we have to count ourselves lucky that looters have very little taste.’
In Elizabeth, New Jersey, a supermarket manager and his wife went down to their store as soon as Ed Hardesty’s programme was shown, taking with them a vacuum flask of coffee, two packs of sandwiches, two Colt AR-15s, and eleven boxes of 7.62 ammunition. Two local residents came and rattled the supermarket doors to see if they were open, but when the manager’s wife fired at them from the roof, they quickly retreated. The supermarket manager said, ‘I guess you could rightly say that I’ve always believed in overkill.’
In San Francisco, a Chinese couple opened the doors of their store on Sacramento Street and put up a sign saying, ‘Bad Times Are Coming. Help Yourself.’ Hardly anybody did, despite the fact that five blocks away, a mob was looting a Save-U supermarket, and setting fire to a drugstore.
But although the individual stories were easier to tell, it was the widespread mood of panic and betrayal that swept over the whole country that was the real story. The country had been through thin times before. The Depression had been a thin time, and plenty of people had had to go without. But now, everybody was going to have to go without, rich or poor, lucky or unlucky, unless they made damn sure they had a huge stockpile of canned and frozen groceries. Because of that, the frustration and resentment that boiled up on Sunday night were more explosive than any public feeling that had ever boiled up before. This wasn’t an upsurge of morality and conscience, like the protests over Vietnam. This wasn’t the rattling of political and ethical sensibilities, like Watergate. This was hysteria time, and if you didn’t grab you didn’t eat.
As Sunday night passed over the continental United States like a devouring and apocalyptic shadow, it left behind a trail of destruction and smoke and wrecked buildings. The whole country had changed overnight, from a buoyant and self-assured society with its first feelings of confidence about the 1980s, to a shattered and haunted land where hope seemed to be as scarce a commodity as food.
The National Guard were enforcing martial law in all but seven states. Everywhere you drove that Monday morning there were uniforms and jeeps and personnel carriers, and if you didn’t have a good reason for being in Rupert, Idaho, or Maple Shade, New Jersey, or any place at all that wasn’t home, then you were liable to immediate arrest. At 7.30 a.m. Central Time, on all channels, the President made a live television announcement about the events of the night.
‘What has happened across our nation during the past twelve hours has been the most agonising example of self-destruction we have ever inflicted on ourselves. We have had some hurtful and tumultuous times before. I believe it is the destiny of this nation to test its belief in itself time and time again, no matter how painful those tests may be. In the Civil War, we tested our belief in the sanctity of individual freedom… In the Civil Rights marches of the 1960s, we faced up to the reality of black citizenship…
‘Then there was Watts, and Kent State, and the assassination of President Kennedy and his brother Robert… and Watergate…
‘But last night was not a test… neither of our pride in being American nor our confidence in what we can achieve. Last night was a horrifying exposure of the weaknesses inherent in our whole society. Last night showed that we have set personal wellbeing above national survival. Last night showed that we have become a nation of weak, self-interested, corruptible consumers.
‘It isn’t easy for me to say these words. As your President, I have to take ultimate responsibility for the shape our society is in, and I do. I take responsibility for failing to understand that our recent years of economic recession were warnings of a major shift in our national psychology. Instead of believing in work and its profitable rewards, we now believe in profitable rewards whether we work or not.
‘Well, I’m going to make an appeal right now… an appeal to sanity and an appeal to reason. I’m going to appeal to all of you to carry on your normal everyday lives… to go to work as normal… and to try to restore the best part of the life we lost last night…’
The President was asked if it was true that he had made provisions to hoard food for the administration.
He said, ‘Hoard is an emotive word. Let me just say that there have always been contingency plans to protect the administrative arm of government in the event of a national emergency, and it would not be accurate for me to say that some kind of contingency plan had not been considered in this case.’