23-05-2025
Miami erupted in a riot after McDuffie verdict 45 years ago. Why we can't forget
Last Saturday, I sat with Dr. Marvin Dunn and Shanreka Perry under the great big oak tree in front of Florida International University's library. It was a beautiful day — cool breezes chasing away the heat, and leaves rustling softly under drifting clouds.
It was on such a day 45 years ago — May 17, 1980 — that Miami erupted in violence when word reached our city that an all-white jury in Tampa acquitted four white Metro Dade police officers in the death of Black insurance agent Arthur McDuffie.
McDuffie, 33, a Marine, was beaten into a coma in December 1979 at North Miami Avenue and Northeast 38th Street after he fled cops on his motorcycle and they chased him. He died in the hospital.
Somehow, sitting under the big tree seemed appropriate to me. Earlier, Dr. Dunn had explained the significance of sitting under a big tree in the Black community. He told the group that in every Black community there is a tree, where elderly Black men meet to impart their knowledge to a younger generation.
His words brought back pictures of old men in my Liberty City neighborhood, sitting under a tree on wooden carts and broken-back chairs playing checkers. I can still hear the scratching sound of bottle caps as they slammed them down on the red-and-black checkerboard, showing off as the younger men watched and listened.
Under the tree was where all the neighborhood news was told — the good news about Black accomplishments that never made the Miami Herald and hadn't yet made The Miami Times, the Black-owned newspaper. It was a sacred space where life, and death, was celebrated.
So, on this 17th day of May, 45 years after the McDuffie riot, sitting under this great tree with Dr. Marvin Dunn telling our story, seemed the right place to be.
I looked out at the people who had gathered to hear our stories. Seeing their faces, I realized how much has changed in Miami over the past 45 years, and yet how much has stayed the same.
For while we have grown in many areas, some of the same old problems — bigotry and hatred, to name two — are deeply embedded. And now some people want to destroy our history — our story — and our contributions to this country. This is a threat not only to Blacks, but to all Americans.
It's one of the reasons that 'Sitting under the tree with Dr. Dunn' as he teaches and celebrates our history is so important. It was especially so on May 17.
Some of us came to remember that day. Some who weren't born in 1980 came to learn the truth.
And so there we were, a scattering of young and old, Black and white, sitting peacefully as the story of the McDuffie riot unfolded from the mouths of some of us who were there.
I spoke first — the memory of the fateful day still as fresh in my mind as though it had happened yesterday.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was just finishing up my weekly housecleaning chores when the phone by the kitchen door rang. I ran to answer it, and heard the voice of a classmate, yelling into the phone: 'Bea, the N---- have gone crazy over this thing [the verdict]! They are headed down to the Civic Center to tear up things…'
I remembered the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew trouble was brewing. This would be a riot like we had never seen before. I told my sons to stay close to home that night. I was right to do so. The violence erupted almost immediately after I got that phone call.
One of the first victims was 10-year-old Shanreka Perry. As word of the acquittal reached her neighborhood, and Blacks were starting to take to the streets in protest, Shanreka was oblivious to what was going on around her. She was busy playing softball with some of her playmates.
As she played, a car filled with whites — Michael Kulp, 18, his brother Jeffrey, 22, and Debra Getman, 23, unknowingly drove into the developing riot. They were on their way home from a day at the beach. As they drove, their car was attacked and pelted with rocks and bottles, smashing the windshield.
The car spun out of control hitting Shanreka, pinning her between the building and the car, and hitting another pedestrian, Albert Nelson, 75.
The mob dragged the Kulp brothers out of the car and beat them so severely that Jeffrey died of his wounds on June 12 at Jackson Memorial Hospital. Michael was left with severe injuries. Debra escaped with minor injuries and was hidden by neighbors until she was able to leave via a Black taxi driver.
While brave neighbors tried to save Shanreka by pulling her away from the wreckage, pulling freshly washed bed sheets off a clothesline to wrap her mangled leg, they couldn't save her left leg.
Shanreka remembered, 'They couldn't get an ambulance to me, but a Magic City Cab (Black-owned) was in the area and that's how they got me to the hospital.'
Shanreka, now a retired Miami-Dade corrections officer, is a picture of resilience. She made it with the support of her 'village' — her family and friends, many of whom were with her Saturday under the tree.
She said the ordeal never made her want to be treated differently from her siblings or her playmates. And she was never bitter. She thanked the man who helped her through some of her darkest days of recovery, her physical therapist, Curtis Clark, who was present with us under the tree.
'He never gave up on me and wouldn't let me give up,' Shanreka said. 'Throughout my life, he has always been there to support me, not matter what.'
Kind of like Dr. Dunn. At 84, he never gives up on telling the truth about our history, which is why he was one of the seven honorees at Mosaic Miami's 2025 Silver Medallion Humanitarian Dinner on May 18. He was presented with the Robert H. Traurig Lifetime Achievement Award for his work in preserving history.
The other Silver Medallion honorees were Alan and Vivian Dimond, of Greenberg Traurig and Bayshore Grove Capital, respectively; Richard Milstein, Akerman; Shabbir Motorwala, Coalition of South Florida Muslim Organizations; Madeline Pumariega, president of Miami Dade College; and the Rev. Guillermo Garcia-Tuñón, president of Belen Jesuit Preparatory School.
