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ABOUT US:

The SHADOW
, New York's only underground newspaper, began publishing on the Lower East Side of Manhattan in March of 1989, as a result of distorted mainstream media coverage in the aftermath of the infamous Police Riot in Tompkins Square Park from the evening of August 6 through the morning of August 7, 1988, during which hundreds of "New York's Finest" descended on our neighborhood in furtherance of enforcing a non-existent park curfew.

A week earlier, on the evening of July 31, cops had beaten people in the park in order to remove them under the same excuse. Over the course of the following week, cops built up their forces inside and around the perimeter of the park, including a command station inside, riot vehicles outside and maneuvers on horseback, Like a scene from West Side Story, it was clear to us that they were letting us know that they were the bigger gang and were preparing for an old-fashioned New York-style rumble that coming weekend. Not to be outdone by the NYPD, our people were preparing for the upcoming rumble as well.

On the evening of August 6, hundreds of people demonstrated against the non-existent curfew, as riot cops looked on. As we marched in and around the park, bandanas to cover faces were distributed as loud M80s exploded every few minutes. As soon as marchers left the park, cops read the "Riot Act" over a speaker, announcing that, as it was then 1:00am, their curfew was going to be enforced. Realizing the tactical error of having left the park, many demonstrators ran to jump over the park fence in order to get back in the park. Riot cops jumped them. The riot was on.



For the next five hours, riot cops charged at us in advancing and receding waves as we outran them. Many people were clubbed in the head by cops. Bottles were thrown their way. Several bonfires were lit on the street. Mounted cops on horseback raced up and down St. Marx Place, beating people as if playing polo with their bodies. Riot cops with their badge numbers covered chased and beat anyone in their sight. A videographer filming a riot cop advance at Sixth Street and Avenue A filmed himself getting beaten by two cops, Vecchi and Skryzpek. (They were later found "not guilty" by a judge who nodded off during their "trial.")



Those randomly attacked by riot cops included a yuppie on his way out for the night, a waitress at the 7A café and her manager who came to her defense, a bicycle rider who fell off his bike when cops stuck a night stick in his spokes as he rode by - when he hit the ground, they beat him with their clubs. Cops even beat down an elderly homeless woman pushing her cart heading into the park, where, under an understanding with the park manager, homeless persons could sleep in the park overnight. That night, scores of people were treated at nearby hospitals for their injuries. Those who later sued the city received quick $25,000 settlements.


Young man beaten by riot cops on Avenue A [Photo by Clayton Patterson]

In one of the funnier moments of that night, at one point, riot cops were lined up along Avenue A in formation. A police helicopter that had been hovering over us all night with its search light came too close to the lined-up cops, causing their hats to go flying everywhere. Demonstrators and bystanders alike laughed their heads off at them as they scurried to retrieve them.


Yuri Kapralov, author of Once There Was A Village, beaten by riot cops

By 6:00am, riot cops withdrew from the standoff we maintained at Avenue A and Sixth Street. To their way of thinking, they kept the park closed all night, until their declared 6:00am re-opening. To our way of thinking, we'd fought them all night long and now we had gotten our park back. Almost immediately, the call went out to attack the Christodora building, located at Avenue B and Ninth Street. Built as a settlement house providing housing and services for low-income residents and immigrants in 1928, by 1986, after many decades of neglect from abandonment, as gentrification began taking hold on the Lower East Side, the Christodora had been bought and sold about a dozen times by flippers and real estate speculators, until one group converted the 13 story building into "luxury" condo apartments. As a result, the Christodora House became a much-hated symbol of gentrification in our neighborhood. When the Christodora lobby wa
s raided, the guard took off. A large potted tree was removed and thrown into the street. Some yelled "Save The Tree!" which was then re-planted in the park as a form of poetic justice.