Jimmy even brought his girlfriend into the gallery as our book keeper, but she spent more time partying with Jimmy than keeping our books. Jimmy was a sweet talker and a con artist who should have been an used car salesman. The gallery was made possible with a single government grant. This was called an opportunity for Blacks in the neighborhood to see real Black artists at work and to purchase good artwork and paintings done by Black artists. Jimmy got the idea to open up a little storefront art gallery on Woodward Avenue, and my friend Bill Riser and I jumped right in and we started the “Gallery of Imo”. I would get proposals that only wanted use of my name, but I saw that as being unethical and maybe illegal. But besides that, I was a pretty good artist also who picked up a few jobs doing pastel portraits at the state fair. Hudson company as their first Black photographer in heir hundred year history. I had already established myself as being a decent photographer when I was hired by the J. I was a veteran, I was Black, I spoke good English and was fairly well educated as well as being congenial. A White Vietnam vet could get one amount to start a small business, but that amount would quadruple if he partnered with a Black Vietnam veteran. Not only in the area of education under the GI bill, but also in grants and small business loans. Veterans from the war in Vietnam were returning at a record rate and government money was flowing like maple syrup over buttermilk pancakes. Then one day I ran into a real New York Times reporter who had just retired and was living in Detroit. Even if the concert was affordable, the press pass allowed me backstage access. ![]() I used that badge to get me into a couple of Rolling Stones concerts, a James Brown concert, and several other venues. So basic that once I even used my counterfeiting skills to produce a fake New York Times press badge, complete with the New York Times seal trademark. Music concerts were relatively cheap and security at music concerts was pretty basic. And you had to have a basic knowledge of photography to use a film camera. Poster art was big and companies were looking for new poster art material as well as music companies looking for record album cover material. You could make a good amount of cash in freelance photography. It may be hard for anyone living in the rich commercialism of today to understand the climate of the late sixties and early seventies. Love Sade, sixties soul, seventies rock, and all jazz.Commercial Freelance Photography in the 1960s Worked as a commercial photographer at JL Hudsons in Detroit and continue photography as a hobby. Major hobbies are collecting old stuff from the 20s and restoring old racing bicycles. ![]() After that, he would always throw a couple of pork chops or steaks into the package with the free kidneys.įredric Durrette served one tour in Vietnam, retired as E8 in the navy submarine service after 23 years. But then he realized that we were probably one of his poorest customers. Then, one day during a conversation, my mom let out that the kidneys weren’t for the cat and that we were actually eating them ourselves. This went on for several months until, my mom began asking only for the kidneys. ![]() Well, the old butcher thought we were getting the kidneys to feed our cat, so he practically gave them to us without charging. So, mom started buying beef liver and kidneys to serve with our homegrown vegetables. Now, my mom fell on hard times while she was between housekeeping jobs and it was getting hard to put meat on the table. I also remember that he kept a candy dish near the register for us kids when we were sent by our parents to pick up an order. His English was fair, but the European accent gave it a foreign flair. He knew his customers by name and even us kids when we shopped for our parents. Our particular neighborhood butcher was on Conant Avenue, a few blocks from our home, and was owned and operated by a kindly old Polish gentleman who had migrated here to escape the war in Europe. The butcher shop was also a gathering place for the ladies to exchange recipes and gossip. Want a special cut of beef, just ask the butcher.īecause the butcher shop was usually a neighborhood store, they knew the neighborhood families and would often be generous with weighing the scales, sometimes even letting poorer families get meat on a pay when you can basis. If you wanted your porkchops thin, that’s how you got them. The butcher would actually cut the meat exactly how you wanted and weigh it right in front of you. Back in the 1950s Detroit, before Walmart Super Stores, big chain supermarkets and packaged meat, you got your meat from a butcher shop.
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