Living in Detroit and being known as “Whitey” in the ghetto, that was kind of cute. I borrowed the teenager’s bicycle once to go down to the store to get some milk and lettuce and something for dinner. I did not have a bicycle lock so I parked the bicycle in the front entrance way of the store where I could see it. And while I’m at the checkout doing a transaction that took all of two minutes, two young hooligans stole my home-stay brother’s bicycle. I can’t let that happen. I didn’t think of what context I’m in, that I’m the only white person in four square miles of inner city Detroit. I was a track runner so I go running down the street full tilt after these kids on the boy’s new bike and yanked them off the bicycle and said, “You can’t do that! That’s not yours!” And there’s a whole bunch of people watching whitey do this. And I’m thinking to myself, “I’m going to get killed. “ Nobody touched me and for that I thanked providence.

Jeff Niese '74