They Huey P. Newton Reader

Sacramento and the
"Panther Bill"
obby and I look back on the early days of the Black Panthers with
Bnostalgia. It was a time of discovery and enthusiasm; we had hit on
something unique. By standing up to the police as equals, even holding
them off, and yet remaining within the law, we had demonstrated
Black pride to the community in a concrete way. Everywhere we went
we caused traffic jams. People constantly stopped us to say how much
they respected our courage. The idea of armed self-defense as a community
policy was still new and a little intimidating to them; but it
also made them think. More important, it created a feeling of solidarity.
When we saw how Black citizens reacted to our movement, we were
greatly encouraged. Despite the evcr-present danger of retaliation, the
risks were more than worth it. At that time, however, our activities were
confined to a small area, and we wanted Black people throughout the
country to know the Oakland story.
In April, 1967, we were invited to appear on a radio talk show in
Oakland, the kind where people phone in questions and make comments.
Early in the program we explained our ten-point program, why
we were focusing on Point 7, and why it was necessary for Black men
to arm themselves. We also made it clear that we were within our constitutional
rights. Hundreds of calls poured in-the lines were jammed.
Some people agreed with us; others disputed our points. We welcomed
the discussion, because criticism helped us to find weaknesses in our
program and to sharpen our position.
One of the callers was Donald Mulford, a conservative Republican
state assemblyman from Piedmont, one of the wealthy, white sections
of Oakland. Mulford was so close to Oakland's power structure that
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