Am I alone on this?

"Because they're there. They are child killers and somebody has got to put a stop to their activities. Sure, I would rather that someone else did it, but we can't wait for others to stop them. It's our responsibility and our obligation to save the children, so we're doing what we can."

After totaling 406 murders in 2006, this quote could have been uttered Monday morning by some activist intent on turning the tide in 2007. Instead, it was offered by Muhammad Kenyatta way back in 1974 and is quoted by Sean Patrick Griffin on page 189 of his book Black Brothers Inc.

In my opinion which I've offered up before, the book is a must read. The book was published in the fall of 2005 and tells the story of the evolution of a vicious criminal syndicate into an instrument of political extortion. As Griffin puts it on page 317, it is the story of "the victimization of Philadelphia taxpayers in general and black underclass in particular, all under the guise of aiding the most in need."

The book takes its name from a community group that was operated out of a storefront at 1443 South Street and was founded by members of Philadelphia’s “Black Mafia.” The group was used as a front to collect federal "War on Poverty" grants to finance the extortion of neighborhood residents and business. As explained by Griffin on page 160, "The group successfully manipulated their extensive extortion racket into a public relations coup." While providing the book its name, the community group provides only a small role in the vast expanse of the book.

Anyone who plans to attend Michael Nutter’s Thursday showing of “the Shame of the City” at the Prince Theater will leave the viewing with an intense knot in their stomach. You’ll feel sold out by Bob Brady’s cruelly flippant approach to politics. But Tigre Hill's movie is a mere shot of espresso compared to Griffin's 12-coffee brunch.

Anyone serious about Philadelphia becoming the Next Great American city will find Black Brothers Inc. an indispensable reference in our quixotic endeavor.

“The Shame of the City” provides a few fleeting references to Shamsud-din Ali and explains that he, and not Republican dirty tricks, was the reason Mayor Street’s offices were bugged in the midst of the 2003 mayoral election. Black Brothers Inc. breaks it all out in meticulously footnoted chapters.

As Griffin lays out on pages 252-53 of his book, Shamsud-din Ali was convicted of murder in 1970 and spent three years in Holmesburg. He was released after an appeals court ordered a new trial on the basis that police had employed a suggestive pre-trial indentification procedure. Ultimately, the quality of the state's evidence was rendered moot as the new trial never happened as a result of the refusal of the chief witness to testify for fear of her life and the safety of her family.

In addition to providing a detailed background to one of the principal protagonist in the Tigre Hill’s movie, the book also catalogues the connections of Philadelphia’s criminal underworld to the obvious figures - the likes of Jeremiah Shabazz, Mayor Street, and Jannie Blackwell - and the non-obvious - Governor Rendell, DA Lynn Abraham, Cecil B. Moore, Muhammad Ali, Robert N.C. Nix, Jr., Judge Paul Dandridge, and Tom Foglietta.

He tracks the threads of a dark and horrifying period in Philadelphia’s history to Philadelphia’s present. Griffin sheds light on why Philadelphia is what it is today. Why for example we will have casinos built on the Delaware instead of at sensible locales like the Sports Complex or Navy Yard (page 302). Or why one might question why J. Whyatt Mondesire called for the Nation of Islam to guard the Pearl Theater when Temple University already has the largest private police force in the city?

On page 278, the book tells the story of the likes of Eugene Hearn who managed to lead the double life of founder of the Southwest Center City Civic Association and heroin kingpin. On pages 315 and 286 respectively, Griffin notes members of the Black Mafia ended up as paid City Council staffer and on the campaign staff of a candidate for District Attorney.

Aside from the nuggets of political gossip interlaced throughout its text, the book’s far greater purpose is cataloging the brutally inhumane exploits of the criminal syndicate known as the “Black Mafia.”

The group ruled much of Philadelphia throughout the 60s and 70s through a reign of literal terror. Eerily similar to the who-a-rat? "Stop Snitching" campaign, they killed with impunity knowing killing the mother of any witness would prevent prosecution. Let’s just say Osama bin Bogeyman ain’t got nothing on these cats.

Take the scene at Dubrow's Furniture at 419 South Street on January 4, 1971. Seven men "robbed" the store. The twenty-five employees, one owner and two handymen were rounded up, pistol whipped, shot and bound with tape and electrical cord. Not satisfied, the gang members doused their victims with gasoline. Seven fires were lit and one employee was set ablaze. In exchange for "1,803 in cash, some jewelry and credit cards," in addition to being bound and beaten, one employee was left dead, two others shot and one burned. Frank Rizzo, then Philly's Police Commissioner stated: "I have seen many crimes in my long police career, but this is the most vicious one I have ever come across." As noted by Griffin on page 62, the timing and brutality of the robbery suggested that the motivation was not theft but payback for "the store's management had refused to pay protection money and may have been targeted for their non-compliance."

The Dubrow robbery was only exceeded in brutality by an attack orchestrated by eight Black Mafia members against members of a Muslim sect in Washington D.C. Of the seven family members killed, four were infants. A nine-day old infant was drowned in a basement sink. The three other infants were "placed in a tub, and shook violently, convulsing, as their assassins held them under the water, assuring they would not breathe again." (page 102). Only two family members who were at home during the attack survived - one of whom was left blind and paralyzed, the other miraculously survived being shot point blank, three times in the head.

And these are just two of the vast and innumerable catalog of horrors.

The book suggests that the Black Mafia’s success at witness intimidation was ended by the proliferation of simple technology – the video camera. As explained by Griffin on page 64, "The group's success at victim and witness intimidation became irrelevant at trial when they faced literally hundreds of quality photos taken throughout the robbery."

After reading the book and coming to terms with the immense scope of extortion imposed upon Philadelphia’s businesses, I pondered whether Center City’s rise should be correlated to the break up of the city’s criminal syndicate. Confronted by the scene at Dubrow’s furniture, who can credibly argue that city business fled to the suburbs because of such frivolities as the BPT or the wage tax?

Maybe Tigre Hill’s video camera will prove to be equally adept at ending the complicity of our elected leaders. Maybe if our elected leaders are forced to end the indulgence of criminal enterprises, Philadelphia’s status of Next Great City could be solidified.

Aside from having a different understanding of what permitted Center City's renaissance, the book left me with a deep feeling of emptiness. I could not make sense of either the criminal depravity or the proximity of Philadelphia’s political leaders to its perpetrators. As Griffin writes on page 139, "To anyone in the areas being exploited by the Black Mafia, it was not possible to believe police had no knowledge of what was going on." For me, I could not comprehend how anyone in the City could have forgotten, let alone stand in front of television cameras and announce the bug was the result of Republican dirty tricks.

As I read through the book and came across killings that took place in bars or street corners I have come to know, I had the sense I had slipped through the looking glass. Why is there so little media coverage? When Stop-Snitchin t-shirts are decried by our editorial pages, why doesn't Will Bunch or one of those other fancy writers write some expose connecting the present to the past? I tend to get wrapped up in my own little world, and have learned to question myself. I wondered "am I alone on this?" Maybe there's some long thread on Phillyblog I just have not yet come across. But why does it seem everyone in the reform or prgoressive movements has absolutely no conception of the deep waters that must be navigated?

The catalog of horrors should give pause to any Philadelphian familiar with not just 2006’s murder tally, but also the poverty that plagues many of our fellow residents. On pages 141-42, Griffin quotes from Francis Ianni's "Black Mafia: Ethnic Succession in Organized Crime" who writes: "Poverty and powerlessness are at the root of both community acceptance of organized crime and the recruitment into its networks. Conditions of poverty also nurture desires for the services organized criminal organizations provide."

Like Muhammad Kenyatta's words, these words too may be as easily applied to the circumstance of 2007. How close is our city from giving birth to another Black Mafia? How thin is Center City's veneer? How deep is the dark pool that lies beneath?