Spike Moss blazed inroads to freedom. Now, there’s a street with his name

“They had to deal with my history, didn’t they,” Spike Moss said as people approached him with thanks and congratulations. Photo by Azhae’la Hanson 

By Keira McNiff, North News intern 

Spike Moss is used to feeling reviled by a city that for decades rejected his blunt talk of oppression and racism. On July 16, the civil rights leader was celebrated as a hero with a stretch of Plymouth Avenue named for him. 

Spike Moss Way represents a bit of redemption, he said. 

“When I began my work in civil rights and human rights and police brutality cases, I was vilified for doing it,” Moss said. “Minnesota wasn't ready to accept the fact that it was a racist state. They would call me a militant, troublemaker… And so it's like redemption because I was always telling the truth.” 

The section of road now Spike Moss Way runs from Newton to Lyndale and was home to some institutions where Moss did some of his most important work. 

Moss was one of the founders and eventual director of The Way, a community center that operated on Plymouth for two decades before closing in the 1980s. He mentored Northside youth and brought along household names like Prince, Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis, Jellybean Johnson, and state Sen. Bobby Joe Champion. 

Moss was also among the founders of Northpoint Health and Wellness Center, which is located on Penn and Plymouth. At the time, it was called Pilot City, and it started offering social services and free clinics. 

Moss prefers to be called a freedom fighter. He bristles at the term activist because, he said, it disconnects him from the freedom he fights for, that all Black and Brown people live safely in Minnesota. 

He is no stranger to fighting. Moss was born on a kitchen table in Paris, Missouri, and spent his formative years in the Jim Crow South. He saw the evil his community faced and got swept by the momentum of the civil rights movement. 

Moss was taught, “God uses whom he chooses and gives you the purpose, knowledge, and courage to do something.” 

Only in recent years has Minneapolis started to acknowledge its racism and take action, he said. He describes himself as retired, but his retirement looks strikingly like his life before settling down. 

Moss smiled during a ceremony to name part of Plymouth Avenue Spike Moss Way. Photo by Azhae’la Hanson 

He was honored at the July ceremony in a parking lot right by the Fourth Precinct, the building that used to house The Way. His mentees, Way kids, and freedom fighters attended and spoke about his influence on their lives. Each acknowledged they were where they were because they stood on his shoulders and followed his guidance. 

Marvin Smith, president of the National Association of Minority Contractors and an organizer of Minneapolis’s 1995 Million Man March, said his inspiration for advocacy comes from Moss. “He planted that seed in me,” he said. 

Walter ‘Q Bear’ Banks, a Broadcast Hall of Famer and KMOJ radio host said, “Spike Moss is one of those persons that cares about the community for real; who cares about the persons he's around… He's one of the most realistic guys I know, that's been consistent all these years when it comes to justice and injustice, his story, her story, anybody's story. He wants to put the truth on the table.” 

Former Minneapolis Chief of Police Medaria Arrandondo thanked Moss for all he had done for the community. He described four steps to change: dreaming, struggling, fruition, then rinse and repeat. 

Right before the name unveiling, dance and drumline troupe TKO performed for the crowd. This dancer saluted Moss and asked for permission to dance on his street. Photo by Azhae’la Hanson 

“The second stage of change – the most important – is the hardest. That's the struggle. We’re going to go three steps ahead and two steps back, and we are going to lose people because it's going to be too much.” He then addressed Moss. “Elder Moss, your place for our people was in that second stage of change: the struggle, and we are here and grateful for you and all that you've sacrificed for that struggle.” 

The event provided space not only to honor Moss but also for the community to come together. Voices and laughter rang out, and dozens of reunions and introductions took place on the sidelines of the ceremony. 

Moss said the journey has been exhausting. His only dream for Spike Moss Way is that his legacy will be known and cherished. 

Onika Craven stood amongst a large crowd to shout "Northside for life.” Photo by Azhae’la Hanson

“If you know you’re doing the right thing, you’ll have the energy in the morning,” he said. “One day, my grandkids and great-grands will be able to stand there and say, ‘I’m related to that guy, he fought for himself, for his family, and for his community.’ ” 

A performance by TKO Drum Line kicked off the ceremony. One dancer saluted Moss and requested permission to dance on his street. 

(With reporting from North News interns Ayana Melander, Chris Hoglund and Christine Nguyen)

Moss stood with fellow civil rights leader Mahmoud El-Kati, left, after the unveiling. Photo by Azhae’la Hanson 

David Pierini