I was 12 about to turn 13, and it felt apocalyptic, in no small part because I was 12 and everything felt apocalyptic. Then there was smoke in the sky and tanks in the street.
I lived in SW Detroit (the Black part, 48217) where there was relatively little activity. But we knew families all over town, and got a sense over the phone that [things] were both better and worse than what we got on the news.
Moving around on the streets was not as dangerous as encounters with the police. You wouldn't have known that by what you heard and saw on radio and TV. It taught me to question the media. It was not my first lesson in that regard, but it was pretty early.
Later, I learned from people who were both older and more radical than I was that there were two "riots." There was the Rebellion started on 12th Street, and the police riot/retribution that followed. Both ended only when the National Guard showed up.
