Ten-year-old Charles Maree crawls through a shattered grocery window during Miami’s 1968 riots. He ignores cash, jewelry, canned food — and grabs a box of tangerines. This first rebellion against a broken world starts his journey through a city where smoke-choked streets and racism burned hotter than flames. Thirty years later, he’d command Miami’s fire rescue teams. But between stood a different inferno: a department where white officers crowned themselves “gods,” punishing him for drinking tea or smiling too wide.
Experience Maree’s world through his own words:
Each chapter confronts the quiet violence of exclusion, where a wrong laugh or extra biscuit became grounds for “counseling.”
This memoir maps a city’s secrets: bodies floating in Liberty City rock pits, segregated buses rolling past burning buildings, and the McDuffie riots where Maree worked ambulance duty. This is a journey that has just raw scenes from the projects where his mother locked him behind an iron door “like the gates of hell.” When retirement came, he traded his uniform for a mailroom at Camillus House. Why? “Some fires forge you,” he writes. “Others teach you to pass the hose.”
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry.
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry’s standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged.
Grandma’s switch meant for my brother hit me instead. I screamed loud. She told me, “Be quiet!” Meanwhile, the guilty brother slipped away unhurt. My first lesson in unfairness.
Our family arrived in Miami on a packed Greyhound bus. I threw up on my brother. We moved into a tiny Overtown apartment with neighbors yelling at 2 a.m.
Mama locked us inside with a huge iron door every day. We watched free kids play in our dirt yard through the screen. Security meant staying alive till she returned.
Uncle Ted was huge with red eyes. When he yelled, I felt scared enough to lose control. He beat Mama, then took us to Burger King like nothing happened.
I found a flat basketball and begged my father for Fix-a-Flat. He refused. Later, I filed my overcrowded teeth with a metal tool. Both moments shaped my drive.