By Tiffany Ginyard
AFRO Staff Writer
Bitter sweet memories remain vivid for those who’ve lived to tell the story of havoc wreaked on Baltimore’s streets following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Fortunately Baltimore only saw a fraction of the destruction inflicted on other cities, but for two major areas in the city, visible remnants of social and economic despair still remain.
“The social climate [before the riots] was one where there was a sense of respect and unity within communities,” says Dr. Rodney Orange Sr., chairman of the Political Action Committee and former president of the Baltimore chapter of the NAACP. “There was an understanding that we had to come together.”
What happened was the pillars of the community started moving out – the [Black] doctors, lawyers, real estate agents and pharmacists. And it left, in my opinion, a pocket of low-income renters and less homeowners.
But once news hit the wire of King’s assassination – threatening to nullify progress made in Blacks’ fight for justice and equality – a hurricane of anger was unleashed onto Baltimore’s through bombings, lootings, and absolute mayhem.
“I would say it was one of the saddest points in my life,” says Marion Bascom, pastor emeritus of Douglas Memorial Church. “We had looked forward to a time where there would be peace in the community, especially after 1896’s Plessy v. Fergusson [upholding the constitutionality of racial segregation] and the Civil Rights Act of 1964. But when Dr. King was assassinated, people became very disheartened. They had become broken.”
Nowhere was evidence of being disheartened more visible than the Gay Street and Pennsylvania Avenue corridors. The first reports of fire and looting from Gay Street, where anarchy reigned for two days. It was an unlikely event in an unlikely neighborhood.
Once an area that reflected pride and economic stability for Blacks, especially for those who migrated here from the South after the Depression, Gay Street was a place where children could play and parents not worry, where adults sat on park benches at leisure, a place where the presence of police was felt and appreciated. There was also brimming community pride, where people could often be seen scrubbing the marble stoops of their snug row homes.
During the 1950s and early ’60s, the Gay Street corridor was also teeming with commercial activity, boasting everything from mom and pop grocers, boutiques, and laundromats to meat markets, furniture stores, beauty parlors and lounges.
Now, 40 years later, there is little evidence of past grandeur on the Gay Street corridor.
“People tried to fix things up, put up another storefront, but it just didn’t work anymore,” says Rosa Pryor, author of African American Entertainment in Baltimore and AFRO columnist. “Businesses just didn’t make it after that [the riots].”
By the second day of unrest, the riots on the east side had begun to bleed into the communities to the west, mainly in the areas surrounding the Pennsylvania Avenue corridor.
Referred to by locals as “The Avenue” and nationally recognized as Baltimore’s Black Mecca of entertainment, Pennsylvania Avenue saw its heyday in the 1920s, ’30s and ‘40s, especially during the prime of The Royal Theater. Frequented by some of the nation’s biggest stars – such as Billie Holiday, Redd Foxx, Aretha Franklin, Mary Lou Williams, Sarah Vaughn, and James Brown – the theater was a major venue on the “Chittlin Circuit.”
The Avenue was one of the few places in town that hosted a vivacious nightlife for African- Americans. Nightclubs had such names as the Sphinx Club, the Frolic Bar, Club Casino, Buck’s Bar, and Comedy Club Musical Bar. There were also popular soul food restaurants along with convenience and retail stores.
But business on the famed corridor took a sudden turned sour as more windows of opportunities were opened for Blacks. Desegregation opened some new doors, but closed many of the old ones.
“What happened was the pillars of the community started moving out – the [Black] doctors, lawyers, real estate agents and pharmacists,” says George Gilliam, president of the Pennsylvania Avenue Redevelopment Collaborative (PARC). “And it left, in my opinion, a pocket of low-income renters and less homeowners.”
Later, the damage of the riots of 1968 would deliver a low blow to Pennsylvania Avenue, forcing any remaining businesses to relocate.
“And some places just never recovered whatsoever,” recounts Pryor, “Many stayed boarded up until they finally tore half of the street down.”
Gilliam says that over the last 30 years the community has been trying to regain its footing.
“Now we’re back on point in trying to rebuild and revitalize The Avenue,” he says. “We now have a Main Street Program that’s working the commercial corridor, trying to get a better business mix. We’re putting in place new facades to give The Avenue the look it had in its heyday.”
Among other improvement efforts along the corridor are the renovation of the Billie Holiday Statue, on the corner of Lafayette and Pennsylvania avenues; the Royal Theater memorial; the traditional Cadillac parade; and the opening of the new night club, Choppers, a hotspot for the 30- and-over crowd.
While Gilliam remains confident that Pennsylvania Avenue is making a strong comeback, others aren’t so sure.
“The concern we had then as we have now is the lack of a continuum of economic development within the African-American community,” says Orange, the former NAACP leader. “We were hoping The Avenue Market would anchor it, but I don’t see that happening. And while I commend the restoration group on their efforts, I also don’t see the movement to secure state funds [for The Avenue] coming from the legislators that represent that area.”
Rev. Bascom agrees.
“I see a mixture of despair and growth. I have more despair now than I had then, because I still see people struggling to find themselves,” he said. “I can’t say that I am terribly, terribly enthusiastic about the growth of Pennsylvania Avenue, or any other neighborhood at this point in time.”