1965 to 1975 were wild times in the USA and elsewhere*. The hippies, the yippies, the Black Panthers, the Weathermen, the Manson Family, the assassinations, blah blah, you know it all. This particular story of the Zebra murders is strangely not so famous. It’s very easy to see why : it’s a horrible tale about racists.
The location was San Francisco. The time span : October 1973 to May 1974. The number of victims : 15 dead, eight more who survived.
All the victims were white. All the perpetrators were black. This wasn’t coincidental. I had thought that that was why these crimes were called Zebra murders but that would have been gross. No, it was because the Z channel on police radios was cleared for use only by the cops working on this case. Z is always for zebra, you know.
This is a story of American terrorism, not serial murder. Beginning in October 1973 the homicide cops in SF were confronted with a seemingly unstoppable series of random shootings. It was a worst nightmare situation. Usually with murders the cops have something to go on – witnesses, evidence, motive that can be deduced, money, drugs, sex, connections between the corpse and the killer that spin a thread the cops can follow. But in these cases, one after another after another, there was nothing. All the witnesses, when there were any, said the same thing – a guy walked up the street, pulled out a gun, shot this poor person twice, three times, then walked away. Description? Kind of tall, nondescript clothes. A black man. And it didn’t take the cops long to connect the shootings, they were all done with the same gun. And the cops also noticed the thing about the victims – young, old, men, women, quite random, except they were all white.
The bodies kept falling : five in December, five in one single evening in January. The story is told by Earl Saunders, the black homicide cop who worked the case from the very beginning. After the five in one evening, he said
“It felt like the gates of hell had opened up and something evil swarmed out. It was a feeling that grabbed your stomach and wouldn’t let go. Because as bad as that night was, what made it worse was we didn’t have a clue when it would end.”
Earl and his black partner shook down all their informants in the black community and got stony silence. Usually they could pick up a whisper here, a word there, not this time. That made them think – it’s not ordinary criminals doing this. Who then?
Eight months and they had nothing, not a single clue.
Eventually the case was cracked when the cops finally released some police sketches of suspects (they were reluctant to do this for some complicated reasons). And plus, the city put up a $30,000 reward. One of the group recognised himself and thought he could convince the cops he hadn’t killed anyone but he’d been along on the ride for a lot of the time, so he could turn state’s witness and get the thirty grand. And that’s what happened.
So who were the killers and why did they do it? If they weren’t called the Zebra murders they would have been called the Black Self-Help Moving and Storage murders, because the five guys who had been doing all the shooting met when they worked for this small company. It specialised in employing black guys recently released from prison, and it was associated with the Nation of Islam.
The book states many times that the Nation of Islam that existed in the early 70s was a totally different organisation to that which exists today. It then goes on to show that the teachings of Elijah Muhammed, especially one inflammatory passage about killing white devils, was taken literally by these guys. Earl says :
From what I could see, the one thing that seemed to guide every other possible motive, whether it was to start up a race war or just avenge what they saw as injustice, was rage. A crazy, insane rage over what they thought whites had done to blacks. Once you got to that realisation, if you were black, you had to pause. Because the truth was there wasn’t a black I knew who didn’t feel at least an inkling of the same thing.
Earl later became the first black police chief of San Francisco.
Although this is a fascinating and horrifying crime story, I nearly had to rate the book only 3 stars because it tries to tell two stories at the same time, the main one being, of course, the story of the murders and the investigation, and the other one the struggle of Earl Saunders and the very few other black police officers in San Francisco against the awful racism of the San Francisco Police Department. It’s a very worthy subject, surely, but, no offence intended, it gives the first half of the book a draggy stop-start effect. You want to get on with the what-happened-next of true crime and you are continually being informed about the lawsuit black officers were bringing against the SFPD and how the white officers tried to sideline the black minority, etc. But I can see that from Earl’s perspective the two are intertwined.
Final note : the 4th victim, who survived two point-blank bullets in the chest on 13 December 1973, was a guy called Art Agnos. 15 years later he became Mayor of San Francisco.
FURTHER READING (all these stories are connected and these are all wonderful books)
American Heiress: The Wild Saga of the Kidnapping, Crimes and Trial of Patty Hearst by Jeffrey Toobin
Nixonland by Rick Perlstein
Helter Skelter by Vincent Bugliosi
Malcolm X : A Life of Reinvention by Manning Marable
Watergate: A New History by Garrett M. Graff
And i need to to read
The Life and Times of Elijah Muhammad by Claude Andrew Clegg III
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*Of course, in the future they will say those 2020s sure were wild times.