Officer Howard said: “There’s a big crowd at the front of the store. What do we do?’ The doctor came on the phone and said: ‘Don’t take it out. I have this man who’s got a knife sticking out of his chest. He went into greater detail that night in Showman’s. We were entirely on our own, and believe me, it was some predicament.” Once we left that, our communication was cut off. “The only radio we had was the one in the patrol car. “In those days we didn’t have walkie-talkies,” Officer Howard said years later in an interview for the internal N.Y.P.D. King from bleeding to death, stopped her in time. The officers, knowing that the blade might have been saving Dr. “She was hysterical,” Officer Romano said later. King’s life, reached to pull the blade out. Stunned local leaders and politicians looked on as another woman, fearing for Dr. He had been signing copies of his book “Stride Toward Freedom,” about the Montgomery bus boycott, when a young woman approached and stabbed him.Īn advertising executive for The Amsterdam News, a prominent Black newspaper, grabbed the woman and restrained her until a security officer took over. There was a letter opener jutting out of his chest. At its center, in a dark suit and tie and sitting still as stone in a chair, was the Rev. They arrived to find chaos on the second floor. A call came over the radio: There was a disturbance at Blumstein’s department store in Harlem. Officer Howard, 31 years old and on the job three years, was driving a patrol car with a rookie he’d just met that day, Officer Philip Romano. It was a warm and cloudless Saturday afternoon. Miller took a bar stool beside the club owner and just came out and asked. So, a couple of years ago, very late one Saturday night - actually, already Sunday morning - after the crowd had thinned and the band had packed up, Mr.

He wondered if it indeed could be true and, if so, found it shocking that it was not more widely known. Miller was surprised to hear one particular story about Mr. The club’s owner had in fact been a police detective, and the two men became friends. “So he could see everyone going in and going out.” John Miller, a regular at the club and a deputy commissioner in the Police Department, knew the habit well. The owner, Al Howard, liked to sit at the curve near the entrance. The bar in Showman’s Jazz Club, a Harlem destination for visitors from just down the block to Japan and back, stretched from the front door to the stage. To hear more audio stories from publishers like The New York Times, download Audm for iPhone or Android.

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