By late June, South Minneapolis was deep into summer. Long, warm days. Kids running from house to house. Music pouring from porches. Families grilling in the evenings. And the biggest event so far: The neighborhood block party. It was always in the lot next to Bryant Junior High, where Warrington Elementary once stood.
People set up picnic tables. Grills smoked all day. Kids colored the sidewalk with chalk. Older folks sat in lawn chairs with fans in their hands. And of course, the music— The Temptations, Aretha, Al Green, The Chi-Lites.The Jackson 5, and a little James Brown when things really got going. It felt like the whole neighborhood showed up.
Tony came running across the yard.
“C’mon y’all! It’s time!” he shouted.
Derrick laughed. “Hold on, man.”
“You holding up the party,” Marcus said, walking over with Leon and Reggie.
“We gotta get a spot before them older kids take everything.”Leon added.
Derrick glanced toward the street—and froze. Tasha was walking toward them with Cathy and a group of girls. Her cornrows were freshly done, neat and shining. She wore a flowery summer top and jeans. And she carried herself with that soft confidence that made Derrick’s chest feel warm. When she saw him, her smile grew.
“Hey, Derrick.”
He tried to play it cool. “Hey.”
Tony leaned toward Marcus. “Look at him. Butter-melt face.” “
Shut up,” Derrick whispered.
They all walked up to the block party. It was a few blocks away on 38th and 3rd Avenue. They arrived just in time. The moment the DJ (a teenager named Raymond who lived down the block) put the speakers on, the block party officially kicked off. Kids danced. Adults talked and laughed. Smoke from ribs and chicken drifted through the air. Cold pop bottles clinked. A giant punch bowl sat at the end of one table—dangerously sweet and probably too sugary to be legal.
The group gravitated toward the center of it all. They played basketball in the driveway. They ran relay races down the street. The girls tried their hand at double-dutch. They ate way too much barbecue.
Tasha stuck close to Cathy at first… But by late afternoon, she moved closer to Derrick more and more.
At one point, Derrick and Tasha found themselves standing near the corner where the shade from a big elm tree stretched across the sidewalk. Kids were running all around them. Music thumped gently behind them. But for a moment—it felt strangely quiet.
Tasha smiled softly.
“You really love it here, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Derrick said. “It’s home.”
“It feels… welcoming,” Tasha said. “Like everyone’s family.”
“They kinda are,” Derrick replied. “You know how it is. Here, or over North, or your old neighborhood in St. Paul, we’re all good, but anyplace else you go in the city, and it’s like you’re an outsider. Like you don’t belong. People looking at you all funny and everything.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.“ Tasha responded.
Derrick hesitated for a moment. Then softly, he said to her,
“You know, I’m glad you’re here.” He looked down at the ground, sort of embarrassed. “I guess that came out from left field.”
She looked at him—surprised, touched.
“That’s sweet,” she said. “And I’m glad I’m here too….with you.”
Something passed between them—small but unmistakable. A feeling. A pull. A beginning.
Back at the food table, the rest of the group had a perfect view.
“Look at them,” Marcus said. “That’s a whole movie scene.”
Tony nodded.
“He making moves.”
Leon folded his arms.
“Boy smooth when he wanna be.”
Reggie didn’t even look up from his pop bottle.
“Man, he sprung.”
Terri smirked.
“They cute.”
Yolanda leaned back.
“I knew it from day one.”
Cathy grinned.
“I ain’t saying nothing. I’m just watching the magic happen.”
As the sun started dipping low, the DJ switched to slower songs. Kids slowed down. Parents swayed. Couples danced in the street, moving gently, talking quietly over the music. The Jackson 5 came on— “Never Can Say Goodbye.” Some older kids started dancing, showing off. A few adults followed. Tasha looked around. Then she looked at Derrick.
“You dance?” she asked.
Derrick swallowed.
“A little.”
She stepped closer, holding out her hand.
“Come on,” she said with a small smile.
His heart jumped hard. But he nodded. They stepped into the street—just a few feet away from the crowd, not trying to be center stage. Tasha placed one hand lightly on his shoulder. Derrick gently held her other hand. Slow, awkward at first, then easier as they moved with the music. Her smile was soft. Her braid brushed his arm when she turned her head. The warm evening wrapped around them.
“You’re not bad,” she whispered.
“I’m trying,” he whispered back.
“I like that,” she said softly. Derrick felt warm all over.
“Ohhhhh!” Marcus shouted.
Tony clutched his chest dramatically.
“Our boy dancing!” Leon laughed.
“Look at him glide.” Reggie shook his head.
“He’s gone. He’s truly gone.”
Terri and Yolanda cheered quietly. Cathy smiled like she saw it coming all along. Tasha heard them but didn’t care. She kept dancing. Derrick just ignored them.
When the street lights began to flicker on and the grills cooled down, the block began to quiet down. Kids started drifting home. Parents folded chairs. The DJ packed up the speakers. Derrick walked Tasha and Cathy halfway down the street.
“I had fun,” she said.
“Me too,” Derrick replied.
“Today was… really nice.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It was.”
She turned to him and whispered,
“I’m glad you danced with me.”
Derrick’s heart skipped.
“Me too,” he said.
Cathy and Tasha walked on toward the Washington’s house on the next block. Tasha looked back at him and smiled— the kind of smile that stayed with him long after she walked away.
When Derrick walked back toward the steps of Tony’s house, the guys were waiting.
“Ohhhhh, Derrick got moves!”
“Boy smooth!”
“Summer of love!”
“Leave him alone!” Yolanda laughed.
Summer 1971 wasn’t just beginning anymore. It was full-on. Warm nights. New feelings. New stories. And Derrick knew this was the kind of summer he would remember all his life.