Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Detroit's Griot of Griswold Street--Larry Mongo--on The Blue Vein Society

In a hidden pocket--a couple of blocks up and over from Grand Circus Park in downtown Detroit--Cafe D'Mongo's Speakeasy is tucked within a very short block. Owner Larry Mongo bought the business in 1985 from the Greek Seros family. At one time, the building contained an old-fashioned soda shop.

There is a low counter top and stationary stools bolted to the floor and four booths across from them. Behind the booths is a wall separating an area with upholstered chairs and a few small tables facing a grand piano where the Speakeasy's house band Carl and Company--led by Carl, the Human Jukebox--performs after 8:00 PM on Friday and Saturday nights. The bar is open from 5:00 PM until closing.

There is no better way to describe D'Mongo's Speakeasy than an authentic Detroit dive. The interior decoration looks like a museum of Detroit memorabilia. Its walls are loaded with photos that harken to Detroit's underworld past, mixed with vintage photos of the Mongo family from the 1920's onward. Many celebrities have made the pilgrimage to D'Mongo's--Quentin Tarantino for one and Ryan Gosling for another.

Larry Mongo and Quentin Tarantino

In early October, Larry invited my researcher Ryan M. Place and I to attend a taping at Cafe D'Mongo's Speakeasy for a program called Ten Best Bars In America for Esquire magazine. The joint was packed with the new face of Detroit--a mixture of young, upwardly mobile Detroiters. 


The Mongo family has had a long and fabled history in Detroit since the first four Mongo men left South Carolina in 1906 to avoid the long arm of the law. During prohibition, the Mongo family had to pay off the Purple Gang, so they could safely operate a chain of fish stores in the Detroit area--which the gang used to launder their bootlegging and brothel profits. This relationship gave that generation of Mongos a certain level of protection, power, and respect on the street.

In more recent Detroit history, Larry and his younger brother Adolph have been political advisers to black mayors from Coleman Young--Detroit's first black mayor--to Kwame Kilpatrick. When things went terribly wrong in the Kilpatrick administration, the Mongo's wisely stepped aside.

One afternoon, I was able to meet and talk with Larry Mongo about the issue of race which has dominated Detroit politics for the last fifty years. Being an Ofay--derisive black term for a white person--I wasn't aware of something which social scientists have labeled pigmentocracy. Within the American black population at the turn of the twentieth-century until the 1960s, wealth and status were regulated by shade of skin color.

"There was an interracial caste system in the black community where dark skinned blacks were looked down upon by lighter skinned blacks as being genetically inferior," Larry Mongo explained. "There was something called The Blue Vein Society where a person had to show his or her forearm to look for a dark blue vein to determine if the person was mixed race or not.

"Inner racism was worse at times than outer racism. We classified ourselves by shade of color or how much African blood you had. You might be described as an octoroon--a person of one-eighth African blood--or a mulatto--bi-racial or somewhere in between."

President Johnson and Martin Luther King at signing of the 1964 Civil Rights bill.

I asked Larry Mongo about the impact of the 1964 Civil Rights Act on Detroit's black community. "After the Civil Rights Act--passed by Lyndon Johnson's administration--everything changed in the black community and neighborhoods," Larry explained.

"Don't get me wrong, things weren't perfect back then, but everyone knew their place and the color lines were clearly drawn. Cross them and you did so at your own risk. That was in the heyday of the Jim Crow--separate but equal--laws.

"All manner of black businesses catered to black neighborhoods and things usually went okay. Everyone was getting by. When the Jim Crow laws were repealed and the Civil Rights Act was passed into law, more affluent blacks could spent their money in white establishments like hotels and restaurants which had been off limits before.

Patterns of segregation--previously enforced by red-lining and real estate covenants--became illegal and drew middle-class blacks out of the ghettos into outlying areas. This migration drew valuable resources away from the black neighborhoods.

"Many black businesses were mom-and-pop operations in neighborhoods that could no longer support them. These
neighborhoods went into further decline struggling to survive. Then in the sweltering heat of July 23rd, 1967--all hell broke loose on 12th Street--Detroit started to burn. 

"When (Antoine) Cadillac came here in 1701, it took 250 years to build up Detroit. This city has rotted from the inside out. Detroit needs a new economy--then business growth will begin to feed everything else. The city will survive only by creating wealth and decent jobs to help our residents pull themselves out of poverty and despair. More of our young people need to go to school rather than jail. They need to go to the library instead of the street corner. Now that will be a real revolution."


After my afternoon visit with Larry Mongo, I decided to Google the Blue Vein Society to learn more about it. From there, my research led me to several other culturally historic facts about the black community in the first half of the twentieth-century.

The phrase Blue Vein Society originated at the end of the nineteenth-century, according to American author Charles W. Chesnutt in 1898. "This is a group which limited its membership to blue veins--light-skinned black people white enough to show blue veins on their forearms.

"At the turn of the century, there were many American cities with Blue Vein Societies representing the miniscule black upper and upper-middle classes. The negro Blue Vein Society mimicked the white patrician Blue Blood Societies. Their primary purpose was to sponsor balls and galas as meeting places for eligible blue veined youth."

The Creoles in Louisiana formed almost a separate class of black American because they tended to be better educated with lighter skin--the children of more generations of co-mingling with European whites--especially the French and Spanish.

Another phenomenon of black cultural pigmentocracy--a carry over from the nineteenth century--was the paper bag test which originated in New Orleans. A brown paper bag would be attached to the entrance of a party or event--for instance--and anyone darker than the paper bag was denied admittance. This test was said to have been used in many churches, fraternities, and nightclubs.

Michael Eric Dyson
American author Michael Eric Dyson wrote, "The brown paper bag test is a metaphor for how the black cultural elite literally established a caste (system) along color lines within the black community. This is one of the ways blacks with European ancestry attempted to isolate and distinguish themselves from those who are mostly African."

My research also revealed some other labels still used within the black community. A redbone describes light coppery or caramel colored skin with red overtones in the hair, sometimes with freckles and sometimes not. A yellowbone--also called high yellow--is slang for light-skinned black females who could often pass as a white person. This was the world before the 1964 Civil Rights Act. In an attempt to secure a better life in segregated America, many light-skinned, mixed-race blacks crossed the color line as reborn descendants of European ancestry and never looked back.

The history of mankind is rife with examples of one group--who perceives itself as superior--foisting itself upon another group--who is perceived as inferior. This oppression takes many forms but always ends up the same way--with someone being discriminated against.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Murderabilia - Market for the Macabre

Since the 1970s, there has been a growing consumer market in serial killer themed merchandise and artifacts. Murderabilia refers to the collection, sale, and marketing of original artwork, articles of clothing, and personal possessions of notorious killers in general and serial killers in particular. Stories and books about serial killers have great appeal with the public and attest to the popular interest in this type of murder.

Image from the Shroud of Turin
Since biblical times, religious relics and artifacts were believed to have sacred qualities, a belief which carries down to our present day. The sale of splinters and nails from the crucifixion of Christ were sold throughout Europe during the Middle Ages, and the Shroud of Turin still has the ability to inspire the faithful, even after the discovery that it was made of Medieval period linen. The Catholic faithful continue to have their rosaries and scapulars blessed by the parish priest.

The trade in items belonging to serial killers or objects having been touched by them is the antithesis of religious relics or items like mass cards and rosary beads that have been blessed. It is believed that these items have an atavistic quality to them, but rather than being imbued with the sacred, serial killer artifacts are tainted with the profane.

The fascination with death and the dark side of humanity has a long history. The display of the bodies of the infamous has always drawn large crowds of gawking, respectable people. The public viewing of the Dalton Brothers and the James Gang comes to mind. In more recent times, John Dillinger and Bonnie and Clyde's bodies were photographed and given wide circulation in newspapers across American. In many places in America, hangings were public events, especially of ruthless killers.

The severed head of Joaquin Murrietta, legendary Mexican outlaw, was popular on the medicine show circuit in the Southwest and drew huge crowds. So many people were willing to pay to see the notorious bandit that several severed heads were known to be touring at the same time. For many people, the sight of a severed head pickled in a jar of alcohol was enough of an attraction regardless of the true identity of the victim. Touring attractions such as Al Capone's bulletproof car and the bullet-riddled car of Bonnie and Clyde still have the power to attract crowds at county fairs and other venues.

The first murder memorabilia I remember seeing was the chair President Abraham Lincoln was shot in by John Wilkes Booth in 1865. Henry Ford had the foresight to purchase the chair before it was lost to history.
Generations of Michigan youth have memories of trips to the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan and seeing this artifact of our shared national history, still stained with Lincoln's blood. 

Some murderabilia has more historical significance than others to be sure. American collectors in post World War II bought up as much Nazi memorabilia as they could. These artifacts include weapons, uniforms, medals, helmets, flags, and Nazi government documents. It wasn't until the 1980s and the advent of the public internet that the fascination with serial killers began to dominate the murderabilia trade.

Countless magazine articles, books, movies, and cable television shows have made celebrity devils out of many of the most infamous killers in American history. Names like Richard Speck, Richard Ramirez, John Wayne Gacy, Jeffery Dahmer, and the poster boy for American serial killers Ted Bundy are widely known and have become part of the criminal folklore of America.

Some people think the marketing of murderabilia is grotesque and immoral, and it should be illegal. They argue that the promotion and marketing of these ruthless serial killers contributes to their celebrity folk status and larger than life portrayals. Much of the public is disgusted with the idea that convicted sex-slayers can parade around like celebrities nourishing their egos at the expense of their victims and their families.

Son of Sam murders prompted new law.

Because of the feeding frenzy of New York publishers in 1977 to pay big money to David Berkowitz for the rights to tell his "Son of Sam" story, the New York State Assembly drafted and passed what is known as the "Son of Sam" law. The law's intent is to prevent convicted felons from profiting from their crimes through book publishers, film producers, or television networks. Convicts lose the ability to tell their own stories and profit from it.

Any money earned from "expressive or creative works" is deposited into an escrow account and then used to compensate crime victims and their families. Eight states currently have "notoriety-for-profit" laws that follow the money trial of murderabilia sales to insure that convicts don't make money indirectly through third-party involvement.

For my part, I have been purchasing the rights to every John Norman Collins related photograph available on the internet, not to buy and sell as murderabilia, but to use as research documentation in my true crime account of the Washtenaw County sex-slayings, The Rainy Day Murders. At some point, I will donate these photos and the government documents I have purchased to an archive in Ypsilanti, Michigan. For the record, I don't trade in murderabilia.

But recently I came across a site that sells Serial Killer Trading Cards, and I bought two of John Norman Collins' cards for under three dollars apiece. One for me and one for him. What prompted me to purchase them was that the card's writer got Collins' name wrong. It is listed as "Norman Collins." Norman Collins was a British author who is in no way related to John Norman Collins. Even in the subculture of murderabilia collectors, serial killer John Norman Collins cuts a sorry figure.    

Murderabilia dealer banned from Texas state prisons system:    

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Detroit's Greektown Stella - Iconic Homeless Woman Remembered

Photo taken of Stella Paris by a Detroit Policeman
I hadn't seen or heard of Greektown Stella for many decades, then several days ago, I found out that she had died almost four years earlier on January 16th, 2011. When I saw her photograph on a recent Facebook post on the Old Delray/Old Detroit site, I knew that face and suddenly felt very sad. Whenever I go to a Greek restaurant or see the film Zorba, the Greek, I privately think of the crazy old Greek woman who patrolled the dimly lit Greektown neighborhood in Detroit from the late1960s until the early 1990s.

She was like a modern day Cassandra that nobody wanted to listen to. Over forty years ago, whenever my friends and I would go to Greektown for dinner or shop at Trappers' Alley, Stella was often heard ranting something in Greek or broken English at the top of her lungs at all hours of the night. Stella's piercing voice would echo off the brick buildings. She was impossible to ignore. Because she was a permanent fixture on Monroe Street, we quipped that she was being paid by the restaurant owners to provide local color for the Greek neighborhood.

Several newspaper accounts at the time of her death list Stella Paris' age at ninety-five or older. No birth certificate, citizenship, or immigration documentation exists for her, so she was denied public assistance. She is believed to have been born on the Greek island of Samos.

Doug Guthrie, writing for The Detroit News on January 21, 2011, discovered that "(Stella) had come to this country in 1938 through an arranged marriage to restaurant owner John Perris. She raised three sons and never wanted to learn English (but she spoke broken English of necessity). Stella was four feet, ten inches tall and very trim. She passed away from a heart condition. Stella's body was laid out at Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral on E. Lafayette Blvd.

In life, Stella suffered from mental illness and the scourge of schizophrenia. She had family who tried to take her in, but she wanted to be in Greektown where she felt comfortable, even when sleeping outside contending with the weather and other aggressive street people. She carried a nightstick for her protection, given to her by the police at the12th precinct downtown. "The Greek community took care of her by giving her food, shelter, and love," said Frank Becsi. "Stella is buried at Woodmere Cemetery."

"Stella was a blessing to me," says Shelley Rigney, someone who remembers her fondly. "I was young and she would always tell the 'Wolf' types not to bother me because my Mamma knew Jack Tocco (Detroit Mafia Don) & my Pappa was a big crazy Irishman & I was the only baby girl in a house full of Big Boys. She would laugh and tell me, 'Ya justa keep walkin'. Don't you let any of that Trash even stick to your shoe.' God bless her sweet soul & kind heart... I still have ribbons and all the things she gave me."

Stella led the hard life of a homeless street person. Even when she was in her fifties, she looked much older than she was. A retired Detroit policeman who wishes not to be identified walked the Greektown beat for years. He tells a more sobering, less romantic story of Stella's street life.

"(Stella) claimed to be some sort of Greek princess, or that her late husband was the king of Greece, or some similar story.... She would hear voices and stand on the street corner and yell at the voices... you could hear her half a mile away on a calm day.

"She was your basic homeless bag lady, and unfortunately, her mind was not all there.... Stella's favorite motel was police headquarters at 1300 Beaubien, just up the street from Greektown. Some (of the officers) took her in as a mascot, providing her with some old marksmanship badges, chevrons, and a nightstick (billy club) that she carried faithfully....

Stella on the street.
"I do know that many of the merchants in Greektown took pity on her regularly and provided her with food as needed. As I said, (Stella) was an icon. Actually, she was a perfect representative of so many mentally challenged people in the United States today."

Detroit policewoman Cynthia Hill said, "From our perspective, she never meant any harm. When I was working as a teenage police cadet, I noticed the officers let her sleep in the basement (of police headquarters) and bathe in our sinks in the women's restroom on the first floor. At first, she scared me. They told me, 'It's just Stella.' Later when I became an officer, I would see her on the street and feel the same way."

News of his mother's death came as a surprise to her seventy year old son, Anthony Perris of Livonia. He told The Detroit News reporter that her life began on the streets when she was in her fifties. "The family assumed she had died fifteen years ago when she disappeared from Greektown," Perris said. "We didn't know that she had been ordered by a judge into an assisted care facility because she was brandishing a knife."

Stella Paris spent the last years of her life peacefully at the East Grand Nursing Home on East Grand Blvd. At the time, the facility desperately searched for any relative who could shed light on her immigration status. Because of the common misspelling of her real last name, the Perris family was never notified. Stella was indigent, so the nursing home took her under its protective care. But when Stella needed heart surgery, they were simply not in any position to pay for her hospital bills.

We have all seen homeless people in our communities. Some do their best to be unobtrusive or obsequious, while others rant and rave, wrestling publicly with their personal demons. They are all desperate people living a tooth and nail existence. In our several encounters with Greektown Stella, my wife and I tried our best to avoid and not engage her in conversation because we didn't know what to expect from her. I regret that decision now.

Shelley Rigney laments, "Stella was a woman who was tossed aside by many, but she still managed to survive somehow. Now I wish I would have taken out real time for her. She had a lot to say and teach others."

My brother Rick suffered from schizophrenia and was never able to truly connect with other people or establish long term relationships. He eventually became homeless, drifted off for several years, and died a John Doe on a Denver street from a massive heart attack. With no identification on his person, it took two weeks to match his fingerprints to FBI records. His prints were in their files.

Finding out about Greektown Stella's death brought it all back to me. Rather than our scorn and apathy, these people need acts of kindness and generosity, not only during the holiday season but throughout the entire year.

More on Stella can be found in this link: 

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

The Ukrainian Holodomor (Hunger-Extermination) of 1932-1933

Chicago American - Monday, February 25th, 1934
Not widely known by many Americans, the Holodomor was the premeditated mass starvation of the Ukrainian peasantry in the name of Soviet collectivization of Ukraine's farmland in 1932-1933. Recent international human rights research estimates the number of dead at somewhere between 2.4 and 7.5 million victims. It is impossible to arrive at an accurate figure. But there is one thing that scholars agree upon, this was the worst peacetime catastrophe in Ukraine's long and fabled history. The loss of life rivals the Holocaust of European Jews by Adolph Hitler and the Nazis.

Since 2006, the Holodomor has been recognized by many countries as genocide of the Ukrainian people. History notes that the destruction of the Ukrainian peasantry was premeditated on the part of Joseph Stalin. The term Holomodor emphasizes the man-made causes of the famine, like the Soviet confiscation of private property, farmland, livestock, wheat crops, and all the implements of farm and industrial production.

A campaign of terror was unleashed on ethnic Ukrainians, primarily in the southeastern "breadbasket" region of the country. Those who resisted Soviet authorities were shot or deported to Siberia. Families who attempted to hide their grain stocks were killed. Even so, some families chose to burn their homes to the ground and kill their livestock rather than hand them over to their Soviet overlords.

A system of internal passports was instituted preventing the free movement of the Ukrainian populace from villages and towns to suppress widespread knowledge of what was occurring in Ukraine. When the news of the famine reached the West, the Ukrainian Diaspora in Western Europe and the United States quickly raised relief funds and sent food supplies to Ukraine which were rejected at the border by Soviet authorities. As a result of growing international notice, the Soviets responded by banning all journalists in Ukraine, and among the Ukraine populace, the banning of the words "famine" and "hunger." Using either word could result in a jail term.

With the exception of grain reserves used to feed livestock and not people, the vast bulk of Ukrainian grain was exported to neighboring countries to generate revenue for fueling Stalin's Five Year Plan. The Soviet Union was able to purchase Western commodities, among them military weapons and hardware. In return, those countries turned a blind eye to the Soviet Union's internal problems.

In addition to Ukrainian farm peasants, more than 5,000 Ukrainian intellectuals were arrested and charged with plotting an armed rebellion. Those who were not summarily shot were deported to Siberian labor camps, never to be heard from again. It is believed that Stalin feared a general revolt in support of Ukrainian nationalism. The Soviet goal was to have Ukrainians abandon all nationalistic fervor. This preemptive move left the rest of the population without leadership or direction.

For more detailed information on Holodomor, visit the United Human Rights Council's site at:

To view the many monuments dedicated to the victims of Holodomor, tap on this link: