LET THE FIRE BURN (2013) ****

My wife came home from work as I finished watching LET THE FIRE BURN and she thought I had came down with a cold.

No, as I later explained to her, I broke down in tears by the end of LET THE FIRE BURN, the archive footage only documentary recounting the decade-long conflict between back-to-nature and black liberation group MOVE and Philadelphia police and city officials that culminated in the police siege and aerial bombing of the MOVE house on May 13, 1985. Firefighters were on scene and let the subsequent fire burn for one hour, resulting in 11 deaths (including MOVE leader John Africa and five children), 61 destroyed homes, and more than 250 homeless people.

Only two people from inside 6221 Osage Avenue survived a day that also included water cannons and tear gas and 500 heavily-armed officers firing 10,000 rounds at the burning house. The lone adult survivor, Ramona Africa, was the only person from that day to serve any prison time, seven years for aggravated assault, riot, and conspiracy. No city officials were ever prosecuted for their actions that day, even after the MOVE Commission took aim at Mayor Wilson Goode, Managing Director Leo Brooks, Police Commissioner Gregore Sambor, and Fire Commissioner Wilson Richmond and held each of them responsible for their part in the “reckless,” “unconscionable” bombing. Sambor and Richmond were singled out for their “hasty, reckless, and irresponsible” decision to use fire as a tactical weapon. A grand jury concluded, “We do not exonerate the men responsible for this disaster. Rather than a vindication of those officials, this report should stand as a record of their morally reprehensible behavior.” Both Africa and Ward won civil cases against the city.

I especially lost it late in the film.

Philadelphia officer James Berghaier testifies before the MOVE Commission about how he rescued lone child survivor Birdie Africa, a.k.a. Michael Moses Ward, from a deep pool behind the incinerated MOVE house, braving water and downed power lines to bring the badly burned boy to safety. A title card then informs us that 17-year veteran Berghaier quit the force only months after his testimony due to post traumatic stress disorder … and that he received “nigger lover” harassment for his actions May 13.

Berghaier said in a October 1986 AP story, “I’m constantly reminded of the way that kid looked at me, but it’s not something other people can understand. It’s destroyed me. It never goes away. In order to survive as a policeman, you have to detach yourself from what you have to do, and I’ve never been able to do that.”

Another title card tells us Michael Moses Ward died at the age of 41 in 2012; Ward drowned in a cruise ship hot tub. He reunited with his biological father Andino, learned a lifestyle radically different from his childhood in the communal MOVE house, and eventually became a long-haul truck driver and a part-time barber in his adult years. Ward lost his mother in the fire.

Jason Osder makes an impressive and unorthodox directorial debut by eschewing traditional documentary form — no contemporaneous interviews, no talking heads, no reenactments, only archival footage with an occasional informational title card. LET THE FIRE BURN cuts between MOVE Commission testimony, news reports (mostly from May 13), Ward’s videotaped deposition, and police surveillance footage. It is a tremendous experience.

LET THE FIRE BURN does not let MOVE off the hook. They’re accused of abusing their child members and their black neighbors had an endless array of complaints against them. That’s why city officials worked on evicting them from 6221 Osage and gave their neighbors advance notice of the May 13 raid. MOVE leader John Africa also had the disconcerting habit of calling people — like the police commissioner — “motherfucker” over a loud speaker, something that will not always play well with others. On a surveillance tape played in LET THE FIRE BURN, one police officer can be heard saying that Africa won’t be calling the police commissioner “motherfucker” anymore.

The fact that Goode — the first black mayor in Philadelphia history — was mayor during the bombing and its aftermath makes the events even more complex and interesting. Renowned tough guy and former police commissioner Frank Rizzo (yes, the inspiration for one of the Jerky Boys) was mayor when strife between MOVE and Philadelphia police began and then exploded in 1978 with a confrontation that led to the death of police officer James Ramp and the beating of John Africa (officers can be seen on video beating Africa). Nine MOVE members were charged and convicted for murdering Ramp and received lengthy prison sentences; Delbert Orr Africa became the first member of the Move 9 to be released but he died at the age of 74 only months after his release in early 2020. All three officers were acquitted in the Africa beating; one of them, Terrence Mulvihill, in fact later played a part in the events of May 13.

Goode served as mayor until 1992, after he narrowly won re-election in 1987 against none other than Republican candidate Frank Rizzo; Rizzo lost the Democratic primary to Goode in 1983 and switched parties for the duration of his life. Goode then held a position in the U.S. Department of Education, became a minister and professor at private Christian university Eastern, and he’s currently the CEO of Amachi, a faith-based program geared toward mentoring the children of incarcerated parents. Goode recently called for the city of Philadelphia to issue a formal apology for the events of May 13, 1985.

I am grateful to have encountered this piece of history that’s come up again in recent months, but good luck finding a copy of a full LET THE FIRE BURN to watch online. I wanted to go back for another viewing and pin down some exact quotes, but alas, I could not find the version I just watched a few days before.

Both ignorance of and blatant disregard for the historical record have bothered me for a real long time (latter definitely more than former), and they seem to be practiced more and more from every conceivable angle.

Just a couple months ago, for example, protesters in Madison, Wisconsin, tore down, decapitated, and threw into a lake the statue of Norwegian-American abolitionist, journalist, anti-slavery activist (listed after abolitionist to push the point across more forcefully), politician, and Union soldier Hans Christian Heg, who died at the age of 33 from wounds he received during the Battle of Chickamauga on Sept. 20, 1863. Them protesters probably had absolutely no idea whatsoever this old dead white guy worked hard to and even died in the struggle to end slavery.

Recently, memes have made the rounds that Democrat Senators held the longest filibuster in history, 75 days, attempting to prevent the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act. That leaves out the part about the bipartisan effort — yes, both Republicans and Democrats working together, led by Democrats Hubert Humphrey and Mike Mansfield and Republicans Everett Dirksen and Thomas Kuchel — to end the filibuster and pass the bill ending segregation and prohibiting employment discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, and national origin. Never mind the fact that a Democrat President (John F. Kennedy) proposed the legislation and his successor (Lyndon B. Johnson) signed it into law on July 2, 1964.

The Senate passed it with a vote of 73-27 (46 Democrats, 27 Republicans; 21 Democrats, 6 Republicans). The vast majority of “Nay” votes came from Southern Democrats — both senators from 10 states (Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia). Texas and West Virginia Democrats Ralph Yarborough and Jennings Randolph both voted for, while Texas Republican John Tower voted against it. West Virginia Democrat Robert Byrd, a nay vote, filibustered for 14 hours, 13 minutes.

In the final House vote, it passed 289-126 (153 Democrats, 136 Republicans; 91 Democrats, 35 Republicans) with a similar vast majority of “Nay” votes from Southern Democrats — including all eight representatives from Alabama, all four from Arkansas, all five from Mississippi, and all five from South Carolina. It is perhaps no coincidence that predominantly reps and senators from the former confederate states voted against every civil rights legislation that came down the pike for a good century.

For some reason, my brain has found these lyrics from Talking Heads’ “Crosseyed and Painless,” “Facts are simple and facts are straight / Facts are lazy and facts are late / Facts all come with points of view / Facts don’t do what I want them to / Facts just twist the truth around / Facts are living turned inside out / Facts are getting the best of them / Facts are nothing on the face of things / Facts don’t stain the furniture / Facts go out and slam the door / Facts are written all over your face / Facts continue to change their shape.” Of course, I’m still waiting. And the world moves on a woman’s hips, it swivels and bops, bounces and hops.