Trinity College Trinity College Digital Repository Senior Theses and Projects Student Works 4-26-2011 Mapping Residential Segregation in Baltimore City Alexandra S. Stein Trinity College, Alexandra.Stein.2@gmail.com Follow this and additional works at: http://digitalrepository.trincoll.edu/theses Recommended Citation Stein, Alexandra S., "Mapping Residential Segregation in Baltimore City". Senior Theses, Trinity College, Hartford, CT 2011. Trinity College Digital Repository, http://digitalrepository.trincoll.edu/theses/10 Mapping Residential Segregation in Baltimore City Alexandra S. Stein American Studies Senior Thesis Advisor: Davarian Baldwin 2011  Acknowledgements I would like to thank Professor Baldwin for his constant support, guidance and dedication without which I could not have completed this project. I would like to thank my advisor Professor Masur and the rest of the American Studies department for their encouragement and guidance over the past four years. I also wish to thank my friends and family for their endless patience, understanding, and inspiration when needed. 2  Table of Contents Acknowledgements ......................................................................................................... 2 Chapter 1: Original Sin.................................................................................................... 4 Chapter 2: Residential Segregation Ordinance................................................................. 7 Chapter 3: Public and Private Coordination................................................................... 32 Chapter 4: Riots and Revival......................................................................................... 68 Chapter 5: Under the Wire: Mapping the History of Residential Segregation................. 92 Endnotes ..................................................................................................................... 104 3  Chapter 1 Original Sin When my family first moved from Germany to Baltimore we lived across from the inner harbor in historic Federal Hill. Federal Hill is one of the oldest neighborhoods in Baltimore City with homes dating back to the mid nineteenth century. E. Montgomery Street is paved with cobblestones, lined on either side with traditional Baltimore row houses. Three marble steps lead up to the front door of a home no wider than thirteen feet across. These narrow row houses had once been the homes of black dock workers and called “alley homes” because of their close proximity to one another. Today, Federal Hill is one of the most sought after neighborhoods in Baltimore. Homes once perceived only fit for black occupancy are now worth over one million dollars. When I first moved to Federal Hill it was not the gentrified, trendy neighborhood it is today. For the first three years of my life in Baltimore I attended PS #45. Federal Hill Elementary was one of the better public schools in Baltimore. Classes were small, teachers knew your name, and students were generally bright. Our student body was racially and socio economically diverse. Race was not something I was conscious of as a kindergarten and first grade student. When I was in first grade an older student brought a knife into school and held it up to another student’s throat. The student wielding the knife was black and the other student’s throat was white. Within a month my parents pulled me out of public school and sent me to a private school in the suburbs. This was the first time I realized that there was a difference between white and black – this was the first time I realized there was 4 such a thing called race and that people made judgments based on the color of someone’s skin. When the new school year started my family joined the ranks of millions of other middle class white families before us and moved to the suburbs. We became the epitome of the larger white exodus to the suburbs because my parents believed that downtown Baltimore was dangerous based largely on its racial composition. As I got older the racial segregation of Baltimore became increasingly apparent. The neighborhood to which I moved, Roland Park, one of the first neighborhoods to enforce racially restrictive covenants in Baltimore, is a racially and socio-economically homogenous community comprised of relatively wealthy white residents. My parents and my friends’ parents often warned us that there were certain neighborhoods we couldn’t enter because of their racial composition. Walking through downtown Baltimore the residential separation of black and white is glaringly obvious. Beyond the border of the gentrified inner harbor and surrounding Federal Hill, Fells Point and Canton neighborhoods, street after street of abandoned, dilapidated, Baltimore row homes comprise densely populated black neighborhoods. Popular culture has even reduced Baltimore to an archetype of decaying cities across the United States. Television shows1 including HBO’s The Wire attribute Baltimore’s decline into crime, drug addiction and poverty to the simple explanation of white flight and black mismanagement of the city. However here I wanted to look “under the wire”, underneath images of the most visible social ills known for destroying America’s cities. Quiet as it is kept, Baltimore City has played host to and been shaped by a much more enduring, and many times legal vice: 1 The Wire is not the only show about Baltimore City – Homicide: Life on the Street and The Corner (the book which it was adapted from was written by David Simon and Ed Burns, producer and creators of The Wire). 5 residential segregation. At the heart of the city’s history lies a dark and shameful fact: Baltimore was the first city in the United States to write into law residential segregation ordinances that banned blacks and whites from living side by side. Baltimore’s segregation ordinances became a model for cities around the country. Though the ordinances were ruled unconstitutional seven years later their effects have shaped the lived experiences and the built environment of Baltimore City up to the present. The subsequent slum clearance agenda, the introduction of racially biased real estate practices through redlining, racially restrictive covenants and blockbusting, and finally the race based site selection of federal housing project locations around the city have made Baltimore a tale of two cities, one black and one white. 6  Chapter 2 Residential Segregation Ordinance Baltimore was one of the first metropolitan hubs of the new republic. At its foundation Baltimore was a city of contradictions, a city of both North and South, a city of black and white, one of freedom and of bondage. Founded in 1729, Baltimore played an integral role in the events leading up to the American Revolution as one of the first cities to resist British taxation. In September of 1814, after burning Washington, D.C., the British moved to Baltimore. There, soldiers successfully defended the Baltimore harbor from the British at Fort McHenry. These events led Francis Scott Key, a Maryland lawyer, to write the Star Spangled Banner, which would later become our national anthem. Baltimore became a major shipping and manufacturing center with the creation of the Baltimore Ohio Railroad in 1830. Throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries Baltimore was a vital center of American commercial activity due to the railroad as well as the shipping and ship building industries that occupied Baltimore’s ports. By 1860 Baltimore had built a strong mercantile culture and had the fourth largest population in the United States.1 Maryland wrestled with the issue of slavery as a state uniquely positioned in between the North and the South. Though slavery prospered throughout the state, Maryland was also the first Southern state to have an Abolition Society and Baltimore boasted a large population of free blacks.2 Though free blacks created their own schools, learned trades, bought their freedom, and had modest power to protect their freedom through litigation, their freedom was also restricted in substantial ways.3 Free blacks in 7 Maryland were restricted from working certain occupations, keeping dogs as pets, carrying fire arms, or attending a religious service unless conducted by an ordained white minister.4 Even after Maryland rewrote its constitution in 1867 to reflect a growing desire for securing the socio-economic advantages of citizenship through its Declaration of Rights, free blacks struggled to obtain basic legal privileges. As Maryland’s black population grew, politicians could no longer ignore what was becoming a vocal political body. Political opposition reported that, “during the republican regime a minority of the colored population made themselves particularly offensive to the better elements of both races so that the ‘race problem’ was for the next decade sharply injected into politics.”5 Thus, the conflict between the races shifted from an issue of enslavement to a question of participation in city affairs. By 1860, Baltimore had the highest population of free blacks of any city. Of its 212,418 inhabitants, 27,898 were black and 25,680 were free black residents (See Appendix 24). Between 1880 and 1900 Baltimore’s black population increased from 54,000 to 79,000 (See Appendix 24). There was little conflict between white and black city residents throughout the 1870s and 1880s. Baltimore’s black and white residents were distributed throughout the city’s twenty wards and lived side-by-side without conflict.6 Baltimore reflected the melting pot that came to define the United States. In addition to a rapidly growing black community, more than thirty nationalities and races made up Baltimore’s population.7 In the 1890s, industrialization and job opportunities brought immigrants from southern and eastern Europe as well as former slaves to Baltimore. Like the white Europeans immigrants these former slaves were drawn by the possibility of employment. 8 However, unlike the free blacks that had established a community in Baltimore before the Civil War, the new blacks were from rural areas and tended to be unskilled and poor.8 The new black Baltimoreans crowded together in “alley districts” that would become Baltimore’s first slums. Alley districts were characteristic residential districts for blacks in southern cities. Alleys were generally unpaved and muddy, lined on either side with cheaply constructed row homes crowded closely together. Those who could afford to move out did so and migrated to the north and west from the central and eastern districts of the city. As the slums took shape, wealthy property owners sought a means to confine blacks and the diseases they believed came along with them. Laws created by Baltimore City officials demanded residential segregation in Baltimore City at the turn of the twentieth century and although the ordinances only lasted seven years, their effects are still visible today. On Christmas Day 1925 the New York Times published the following headline: Baltimore Tries Drastic Plan of Race Segregation. The story began, “On last Monday, December 19, the City Council of Baltimore passed and the Mayor signed what was probably the most remarkable ordinance ever entered upon the records of town or city of this country…”9 Ordinance No. 610 “for preserving order, securing property values and promoting the great interests and insuring the good government of Baltimore City”10 was intended to achieve racial separation using citywide legislation. The ordinance was prompted by the decision of a young black lawyer, George W. McMechen, to move his family from Prestman Street in northwest Baltimore several blocks east onto McCulloh Street. McMechen was a graduate of Yale Law School and a well-respected lawyer; he was married to a schoolteacher and together they had three young daughters.11 Despite 9 the fact that the McMechen’s were respectable neighbors, the residents of the 1800 block of McCulloh Street failed to notice anything about the McMechen’s except the color of their skin. A few days later the white residents of McCulloh Street met with neighbors from the Madison Avenue, McCulloh Street, and Eutaw Place Improvement Association to appeal to the city council to seal off their neighborhood from black residence. They appealed to the Baltimore City Council for help. Baltimore City Councilman Samuel Dashiell replied to mounting complaints about blacks moving into white residential areas, “I am only able to say that the colored person, considered to represent the most enlightened of the negro race, should have established his home in the midst of his race and that he should have encouraged others of his race to do likewise…”12 From this discourse emerged the first attempt to legally segregate blacks and whites in the United States. The Baltimore City Council became the first body in the United States to enact a residential segregation order. The ordinance banned any white person from moving onto a block the majority of whose occupants were black and banned any black person from moving onto a block the majority of whose occupants were white. Throughout the nineteenth century Baltimore City was not segregated based on race or class. However this fluid racial organization of space began to change as industrialization and urbanization altered the landscape of cities across the United States. Baltimore’s first slums were occupied by incoming blacks with little money and limited job opportunities. Poor southern black immigrants crowded together in a neighborhood called “Pigtown” in southwest Baltimore. Pigtown soon became the city’s first sizeable slum.13 Black residents moved to northwest Baltimore as middle class white residents, enticed by new cable and electric carlines as well as more 10 space, moved to the suburbs. By 1908 the twenty-six-block area along Pennsylvania Avenue, beginning at Franklin Street and extending north to the intersection of Druid Hill and North Avenues, became “the” area for black Baltimore residents. By 1910 Madison Avenue, Eutaw Place, Linden Avenue and McCulloh Street, all parallel to Pennsylvania and Druid Hill Avenues, became the desired streets for affluent black Baltimore City residents. Slowly wealthier blacks moved northwest to neighborhoods like Biddle Alley, but poor living conditions followed close behind. Even those blacks that could afford to move out of Pigtown could not afford first-hand housing and thus slums too developed in the Biddle Alley neighborhood where blacks were the majority by 1903. Blacks were not the only slum dwellers. Between 1870 and 1900 Baltimore City’s population grew from just over 260,00 to over 500,000 (See Appendix 24). This population increase was composed of European refugees, blacks and ex-confederates who flocked to Baltimore. Immigrants and blacks faced the same problems – little money, few jobs and housing shortages. Shared conditions resulted in overcrowded homes that were poorly ventilated and lacked adequate plumbing.14 Immigrants tended to occupy dwellings that black residents had abandoned in East Baltimore. By the time immigrants moved in, however, these homes were third rate and in serious disrepair. Thus both black residents and immigrants were forced to live in a rapidly aging and deteriorating housing stock due to lack of money. Families could not afford even the cheapest housing so they were forced to double and triple up creating drastically overcrowded neighborhoods. Urbanization, industrialization and economic depression had created a population of poor and sick inhabitants in Baltimore City. As disease began 11 to spread throughout the slums of Baltimore City social reform became a necessity and whites used health as a catalyst to advocate for containment. At the end of the nineteenth century Jacob Riis published a book documenting the plight of the urban poor. How the Other Half Lives became a best seller. Images of slum conditions and overcrowding awakened upper and middle class American’s to the dangerous conditions that existed in their backyards. Riis’s pioneering work in photojournalism prompted the United States Congress to direct the Commissioner of Labor to make “a full investigation relative to what is known as the slums of the city.”15 The study was to focus on the substandard living conditions of the poor. In 1894 the Labor Commissioner released a report on The Slums of Baltimore, Chicago, New York and Philadelphia. The study argued that the characterization of impoverished neighborhoods as “slums” helped to justify the community’s response to poverty and racial inequality.16 The study reached two surprising conclusions about Baltimore City. First, its statistics demonstrated “no greater sickness prevailing in the [slum] district than in other parts of the cities involved.”17 Second, the study determined that white people represented the great mass of people residing in the slums. The study suggested that Baltimore slums were 95.85% white and 4.12% black.18 These surprising conclusions were ultimately proven to be inaccurate since the commissioner selected a “representative” district at the center of the slum population from which black neighborhoods were omitted. The study included the all-white eastside neighborhoods and excluded the west side black districts of Hughes Street, Pigtown and Biddle Alley.19 Though this inaccurate neighborhood cross-section showed unwillingness on the part of the Labor Commissioner to associate slums with race, because of the report Baltimore 12 City officials were forced to confront issues presented by slum conditions that had been previously ignored. At the turn of the century, the government of Baltimore City became dominated by a reform agenda. During the early twentieth century a movement designed to ameliorate social ills swept the nation. The Progressive Movement was a product of the desire for a more scientific approach to philanthropy. Focused primarily on housing of the poor, conditions in factories, child labor and mental health care reform, members of the Progressive Movement sought legislation to enact social change. Baltimore City had two different types of social reformers: some joined the already established Progressive Movement in opposing political machines and in advocating civil service reform, the merit system, streamlined government, home rule, and corrupt-practices legislation,20 while another group of reformers who came from universities and churches had a different agenda. The second set of progressive reformers became a part of the Social Reform Movement. The Social Reform Movement in Baltimore, led by the President of Johns Hopkins University Daniel Coit Gilman, advocated initiatives designed to remedy the fundamental ills of society.21 Unlike the Progressives who favored government action to quickly enact change, social reformers sought gradual transformation through the coordination of smaller social groups. Social reformers found support for their efforts among the medical community. In the 1890s, Dr. William Osler, physician-in-chief at Johns Hopkins Hospital, called attention to the social implications of typhoid and tuberculosis and supported efforts to establish a pure water system. His colleague, Dr. William Henry Welch, estimated that a better sanitation system in American cities could save up to 100,000 lives each year. In 1897, Dr. John S. Fulton, Dr. Osler and Dr. Welch 13 founded the Maryland Public Health Association. The association discussed proposals for the construction of a sanitary sewer system and establishment of a city hospital for infectious diseases (though the latter was poorly received and ultimately denied for fear of reduced property values and spread of disease surrounding the selected neighborhood site.)22 By 1902 the state government began a citywide campaign against tuberculosis. This brought attention to the desperate housing situation in Baltimore since the campaign stressed the relationship between overcrowding, lack of open space, tainted food and a high incidence of tuberculosis. Since the black community occupied the worst housing throughout the city, it was not surprising that the death rate of black residents from both smallpox and tuberculosis was twice that of the white average.23 Though many attempts were made to create charity organizations, settlement houses, playgrounds and public baths, such initiatives failed to abolish poverty, prevent crime or to cure tuberculosis and other infectious diseases. Thus, social reformers began to focus on a symptom rather than the cause. As expressed by Baltimore Mayor Thomas Hayes in 1903, “These wretched abodes are menacing to both health and morals. They are the breeding spots from which issue the discontents and heartburnings that sometimes spread like a contagion through certain ranks of our laboring element.”24 Slum housing became the social reformers’ personal crusade. Instead of improving housing, however, reformers defined disease in terms of race and poverty in order to justify racial containment as an effective strategy to combat contagion. Reformers believed the poor, whom they labeled black, were carriers of tuberculosis, typhus and other diseases (all of which poor blacks had in disproportionate 14 numbers). Thus, blacks were labeled a degenerating race with a high mortality rate, low birth rate and no future. Segregation of black residents was then justified as a means of quarantining disease and protecting the healthy white population. City slums were blamed for vice, crime, poverty and anarchy; thus, it followed that improved housing conditions would cure the ills of society. The reform agenda was put on hold, however, as the Great Baltimore Fire raged through the city on Sunday, February 7 and Monday, February 8, 1904. The fire destroyed almost all of downtown Baltimore, spreading across 140 acres and destroying over 1,500 buildings. The burnt district corresponded roughly to the original sixty acres of Baltimore Town. The city launched immediate relief efforts though fortunately there were no deaths, few injuries and few were left homeless. Physically the city was rebuilt much as it was before. The only major changes were the widening of Pratt and Light Streets along the present-day inner harbor. Out of the rubble however, emerged one major change to Baltimore: a sewer system. The Baltimore Fire turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the combined efforts of rebuilding the streets, sewer construction, and laying a high-pressure water system and electrical channels meant new planning concepts. 25 The Great Baltimore Fire also heightened awareness on living conditions, which helped dictate steps for recovery. Before the fire, in 1903, the Baltimore Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and the Charity Organization Society appointed a special committee to assess housing conditions in Baltimore City. The Great Baltimore Fire of 1904 only reinforced their conviction that such a study was necessary.26 In 1907 the study was published with Janet Kemp, a member of the Federated Charities 15 who conducted and compiled surveys for the study, as the primary author. The study was designed to improve housing conditions in Baltimore due to the belief that “It had long been known by those familiar with the alley [districts] of Baltimore, and with the section occupied by our rapidly increasing foreign populations, that conditions existed in those neighborhoods that could not but be detrimental to the welfare of their residents.”27 Initially, then, the study did not give these conditions a race. The study was concerned with overcrowding, poor ventilation, lack of natural light, and ineffective sanitation. The study entitled Housing Conditions in Baltimore City selected four districts for study; two were described as tenement2 districts and two were described as alley districts. The tenement districts were located on the east side of the city – one occupied by Russian Jews near Albermarle Street (See Appendix 27), and the other by Poles in present day Fells Point along Thames Street (See Appendix 26).28 The two alley districts were located on the west side and were occupied primarily by blacks and some white German families. One of the alley districts, bounded by Biddle and Preston Street, Druid Hill and Pennsylvania Avenue (See Appendix 26), contained two hundred and fifteen overcrowded houses with two hundred and seventy apartments.29 These homes differed from tenements because they were not designed to function as separate apartments. Instead, families crowded together in individual bedrooms and living spaces. These two or three story high buildings were severely overcrowded, dark, dirty and dilapidated. The second alley district, called the Hughes Street district (See Appendix 25), was stratified 2 These areas were described as “tenement” districts because three or more families occupied many of the homes as opposed to “alley” districts, which were characterized by houses crowded together on narrow streets. Homes in alley districts also frequently held more than one family however they were not designed to do so. 16 economically and socially.30 Hughes Street alone contained 120 homes with connecting alleys and courts.31 The neighborhood was a filthy slum. Animal feces and garbage lined the streets, cesspools overflowed into the streets. Cholera and typhoid were of the highest threat in the Biddle Alley neighborhood. According to Kemp’s research there was not one house on Biddle Alley in which there had not been at least one case of tuberculosis.32 Kemp’s study unabashedly linked slum conditions with race. She referred to the residents of alley districts as “shiftless, irresponsible alley dwellers” citing a never-ending circulation of beer, a prevalence of gambling and cocaine habits to this end.33 In the Hughes Street district Kemp asserted, “many people seemed to have reached the bottom level of degeneracy.”34 Kemp believed the “squalor and wretchedness” which characterized the Hughes and Biddle Street alley districts were symptoms of the low standards and absence of ideals she believed the black residents exhibited. The report suggested changes that differed for tenements as compared to alley houses. For the tenement districts, Kemp proposed a “market” solution based on race. Kemp’s proposal for white tenement districts would force landlords to improve existing tenements and require builders to construct model tenements according to regulations restricting height, regulating light, ventilation and water, requiring separate toilets for each apartment, and annual inspections. Kemp’s proposal to reform the black alley districts, on the other hand, was far less accommodating. Kemp observed that “low standards and the absence of ideals” were to blame for the conditions among the alley districts.35 The report proposed to reduce density in existing alley houses, to condemn those that were uninhabitable, ban sleeping in basements, and to prohibit the erection of additional alley houses.36 Though the suggestions would improve the quality of housing, 17 they would reduce the quantity. In essence, Kemp was suggesting legislation to isolate black neighborhoods in order to protect the white community from crime and disease that she argued would ‘logically’ follow black in-migration. In the end, the city took no action on the Housing Conditions in Baltimore report but the links Kemp made between race and urban space would continue to guide public policy in the Baltimore. The north and west black neighborhoods continued to grow in population and size, gradually becoming the worst slums in the city. Slowly Baltimore’s black districts began to expand in population and in size. Between 1900 and 1910 the population of blacks increased from 80,000 to 85,000. The western boundary of the black district extended six blocks from Argyle Avenue to Gilmore Street. By 1910, over 15% of the city’s total black population, 12,738, crowded into the 17th ward of the city. Expansion of the black population was not without incident. When a black family moved into a home on Stricker Street, located along the western boundary of black residence, they were attacked and their house was stoned.37 Blacks were unsuccessful in their attempts to move eastward past the boundary of Druid Hill Avenue until the summer of 1910 when George F. McMechen and his family moved onto the 1800 block of McCulloh Street. On June 9, 1910 Margaret G. Franklin Brewer sold 1834 McCulloh Street to W. Ashbie Hawkins. The Baltimore Sun, attempting to back up assertions that blacks destroyed property values, claimed Hawkins had paid only $800 for the house whose previous value was said to be $2,400. However, according to court records Hawkins obtained at $1,900 mortgage for the house issued by the Ridgley Building Association.38 Hawkins was a prominent lawyer who had been a leader in the Niagara Movement, 18 which was founded by W.E.B. DuBois in 1905 to oppose Booker T. Washington’s policies of racial accommodation, or what some called subordination. Hawkins became involved in Niagara’s successor organization the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, four years later. Hawkins’ work eventually led to the formation of the NAACP’s legal department. Three weeks after Hawkins moved into what had been a predominantly white neighborhood the Baltimore Sun published the news with the headline claiming the city was under a “negro invasion,”39 Hawkins was after all a black man encroaching upon one of the most fashionable neighborhoods in Baltimore. Nearby Eutaw Place was home to Johns Hopkins University president Daniel Coit Gilman, Dr. William Stewart Halstead, the father of American surgery, and the future president of the United States, Woodrow Wilson.40 After purchasing the home, Hawkins rented it to his law partner George W. F. McMechen, a Yale Law graduate, his wife and children. “We did not move up there because we wished to force our way among the whites,” McMechen told the New York Times, “association with them in a social way would be just as distasteful to us as it would be to them. We merely desired to live in more commodious and comfortable quarters.”41 White neighbors reacted violently. They threw stones at McMechen’s door and windows, dumped tar on the steps and threw bricks through the skylights. Only Arthur B. Rice and Irwin School, both nine-year-old boys living next door in the 1700 block of McCulloh Street, were caught. They were fined one dollar each.42 McMechen’s presence in what is now considered Bolton Hill prompted whites to form the McCulloh Street-Madison Avenue Protective Association. The Association resolved, “…colored people should not be allowed to encroach on some of the best residential streets in the 19 city and force white people to vacate their homes.”43 On July 5, 1910 a petition was prepared requesting the Mayor and City Council to, “take some measures to restrain the colored people from locating in a white community, and proscribe a limit beyond which it shall be unlawful for them to go…”44 The McCulloh Street-Madison Avenue Protective Association’s desire for racial segregation was consistent with increased segregation throughout Baltimore City and the greater United States. Plessy vs. Ferguson established the doctrine of “separate but equal” in 1896. Segregated housing already existed in many northern cities including Boston and New York. Between 1907 and 1910 blacks began to be excluded from public parks, theaters and hotels. Racial tolerance in department stores ended in Baltimore in 1910 as more and more stores restricted blacks from trying on garments and prohibiting them from returning clothing.45 Tensions in the McCulloh Street neighborhood escalated. White resident M.Z. Hammen crossed the street to taunt Willam B. Hamer, a black postal worker who had moved into the neighborhood because he wanted to rent a better house. Hamer responded to Hammen, “I am as good as you are. You move on or I brain you with this chair.”46 Hammen sought legal action but was informed by the magistrate that Hamer had committed no crime since he merely threatened bodily harm. “The fact that he is an undesirable neighbor,” explained the magistrate, “does not constitute a crime.”47 Milton Dashiell and Samuel L. West, two democratic City Council members, recognized the growing debate surrounding residential segregation and its potential as a potent political issue. William L. Marbury, a leading lawyer and resident of Bolton Hill, volunteered his services as a legal advisor to Dashiell and West. Together, the three drafted the first bill introduced to City Council intended to freeze existing racial housing 20 patterns and prevent blacks from further encroaching on white neighborhoods. The ordinance thus hemmed blacks into the alley districts and slum neighborhoods they already occupied by legally preventing them from occupying streets with white residents. Ordinance 610 became a municipal policy intending to preserve order, secure property values and promote the great interests and inuring the good government of Baltimore City. I will quote the ordinance at length: …it shall be unlawful for any white person to move into or begin to occupy as a residence or as a place of public assembly any house, building or habitation within or upon that part of any street or alley way… within the City of Baltimore… if at the date of the passage of this said ordinance… shall contain a greater number of houses, buildings or habitations occupied as residences by negroes or colored people than it does houses, buildings or habitations occupied as residences by white people… it shall be unlawful for any negro or colored person to move into or begin to occupy as a residence or as a place of public assembly any house, building or habitation within or upon that part of any street or alley way… within the City of Baltimore… if at the date of the passage of this said ordinance… shall contain a greater number of houses, buildings or habitations occupied as residences by white people than it does houses, buildings or habitations occupied as residences by negroes or colored people.48 The ordinance stipulated that violating any of these provisions would result in a fine of $100 or confinement in the Baltimore City Jail for not less than thirty days, nor more than twelve months, or a combination of both. Furthermore nothing provided in the ordinance should affect the white or Negro or colored residents, or the location of their residences, previous to the passage of the ordinance. Mayor J. Barry Mahool issued an explanation of the ordinance to the New York times explaining, “the reasons leading up to this so called segregation ordinance have been going on in the City of Baltimore for the past ten years.” Reflecting on Baltimore’s unique situation as both Northern and Southern Mayor Mahool explained, “In the Far South the Negroes would never dream of pushing their way into the white residential 21 districts… In the North and West the Negro population is comparatively small… [in such cities] there are not enough negroes to make it rise to the dignity of a problem.” Mayor Mahool blamed black residents of Baltimore for “pushing up” into a neighborhood of white residence, “… it is clear that one of the first desires of a negro, after he acquires money and property, is to leave his less fortunate brethren and nose into the neighborhood of the white people.”49 Though Mahool claimed the ordinance was not directed toward the black race as a whole, it is clear through his justification of the ordinance that it was specifically aimed at regulating black upward mobility. City Solicitor Edgar Allan Poe issued an opinion supporting the ordinance and declaring it constitutional based upon the state’s police power, “… [because] of ineradicable traits of character peculiar to the races, close association on a footing of absolute equality is utterly impossible between them, wherever negroes exist in large numbers in a white community, and invariably leads to irritation, friction, disorder and strife.”50 Poe continued his justification explaining, “a state has the right under its police power to require the separation of the two races wherever the failure to so separate them injuriously affects the good order and welfare of the community.”51 From these series of events came the first residential segregation ordinance in the United States. The emergence of a segregation ordinance in Baltimore quickly became a national story. The New York Times proclaimed “nothing like it can be found in any statute book or ordinance record of this country… it is unique in legislation, Federal, State or municipal – an ordinance so far-reaching in the logical sequence that must result from its enforcement that it may be said to mark a new era in social legislation.”52 The Times noted that while this was not a new departure in legislation, numberless acts already 22 existed providing the segregation of blacks and whites in street cars, schools and other public places, the Baltimore ordinance was unique because it applied to all areas without regard to the character of the space. While existing legislation was temporary in its effect on black citizens, Baltimore’s legislation was permanent. The New York Times refrained from evaluating the ordinance critically or positively, instead the article aimed to show how radically different Baltimore’s legislation was from existing segregation laws. With increasing national attention, Baltimore became the national leader in residential segregation and the first city to sign residential segregation into law. Richmond, Norfolk, Roanoke, and Portsmouth in Virginia passed similar legislation, as did Winston-Salem in North Carolina, Greenville in South Carolina, Birmingham in Alabama, Atlanta in Georgia, Louisville in Kentucky, St. Louis in Missouri, Oklahoma City in Oklahoma, New Orleans in Louisiana, Indianapolis in Indiana, and Dallas in Texas.53 While it was clear that blacks would be opposed to such an ordinance, real estate brokers and white property owners in mixed neighborhoods joined them in opposition. Before the first ordinance was even passed Charles S. Otto, a Baltimore City property owner complained, I am also a property owner and I have a house i[sic] south Baltimore where one of the owners have rented the next two houses from mine to colored. My tenants are white. They tell me in spring they will move, now that this ordinance becomes a law and if white people don’t move in my house I will have to pay expenses on property that does not pay my [sic] in return. I approve in keeping colored people to themselves and this ordinance as it is will work a hardship on property owners all over the city. I would approve of a law where there is no colored people in the block.54 This protest predicted future methods of residential segregation in the form of blockbusting. White property owners were often scared into selling their property to 23 black tenants for fear of decreasing property values attributed to black residency by newspapers and real estate agents hoping to capitalize on white racism and prejudice. Only a few days earlier, The Afro-American published an article refuting the notion that black occupation reduced property values. The article stated, “many properties in the City of Baltimore were enhanced in value by the occupancy of colored people…we were just told last week by a real estate man that he has emptied a whole block of houses occupied by white people who would not pay their rent, and put in colored tenants at a larger rent…” The article firmly asserted, “real estate men are opposed to the West Segregation Ordinance and it is needless to say we likewise.”55 Baltimore’s segregation ordinance underwent several changes throughout its seven-year life span. Mayor Mahool signed a second draft of the ordinance on April 7, 1911 after Judge Harland and Duffy of the Supreme Bench of Baltimore declared the ordinance ineffective and void because it was “inaccurately drawn”.56 There is no published report of the Judges opinions but presumably the inaccuracy referenced was located in the ordinance’s title. Section 221 of the City Charter of Baltimore provided, “Every ordinance enacted by the City shall embrace but one subject which shall be described in its title…” The title of the first segregation ordinance did not meet this requirement. The ordinance declared the provision was, “an ordinance for preserving order, security property values and promoting the great interests and insuring the good government of Baltimore City,” without mentioning racial segregation of housing or excluding black servants from the law so that they could live in white homes and work.57 The second version of the ordinance was revised to include the provision that black servants were not prohibited from living with employers, and that all applications for 24 permits to erect residential property must specify whether for white or colored persons and the applications must be published in the newspapers for two weeks to permit investigation.58 The third version of the ordinance added the provision that neither black schools nor black churches could be established on white blocks and vice versa. Mayor Mahool signed the third version on May 15, 1911. Two years later, a criminal indictment was filed against John E. Gurry, “a colored person”, for unlawfully moving into a residence on an all white block. The Criminal Court of Baltimore dismissed the indictment against Gurry, finding the ordinance illogical. Judge Elliott concluded that the ordinance would depopulate mixed blocks by precluding blacks and whites from moving there since section one of the ordinance excluded whites from blocks “in whole or in part black” and section two excluded blacks from blocks “in whole or in part white.”59 The Maryland Court of Appeals reversed this judgment believing that either blacks or whites could move onto mixed blocks because the ordinance excludes blacks from blocks “in whole or in part” residential, in which all residences were occupied by whites. However, the Maryland Court found the ordinance unconstitutional because it took away the vested rights of the owner of a dwelling to move into it if he happened to be white and the block was all black or vice versa.60 Thus, the segregation ordinance proved difficult to enforce without divulging citizens of the ability to live in a property they owned. Though the Maryland Court did not strike down the ordinance on the basis of the right to property, this decision’s focus on the right of the property owner indicated the basis upon which segregation ordinances would ultimately be held unconstitutional across the nation. 25  Despite this minor set back, the Baltimore City Council had a fourth segregation ordinance prepared by the time the Maryland Court of Appeals signed the paperwork striking down the third version of the ordinance. The fourth version, signed on September 25, 1913 provided: ... that nothing herein contained shall be construed or operate to prevent any person, who at the date of the passage of this ordinance, shall have acquired a legal right to occupy, as a residence and building or portion thereof…from exercising such legal right…61 In rewording the ordinance to allow for property owners to occupy their property without regard to race, the Baltimore City council hoped to circumvent the issue of property rights that the ordinances blatantly violated. The residential segregation ordinances of Baltimore City were originally justified as a public health initiative. Using Social Darwinism3, reformers argued that a quarantine on the black population deemed sick and unfit would help protect the healthy population. Ultimately, the public health justification for residential segregation proved to be flawed. The mortality rate among blacks from tuberculosis remained 260% higher than that of whites, and the overall death rate from all diseases was 96% higher than that of whites.62 H.L. Mencken, a reporter for the Baltimore Sun from 1906-1948, commented on the segregation ordinance’s effect on public health: But who ever heard of a plan for decent housing for negroes in Baltimore? Most of them live in filthy hovels, crowded together in the winter, breeding diseases in themselves and constantly communicating these diseases to the rest of us. The persons who govern us have never thought to look to this matter… The law practically insists that he [the negro] keep incubating typhoid and tuberculosis – 3 Social Darwinism is the nineteenth century theory of evolution that developed the idea of “survival of the fittest”. This theory goes on to explain that the hierarchy of races within society is a direct reflection of genetic differences along racial lines. Therefore dominant races are the “fittest” because they are genetically predisposed to superiority. 26  that he keep these infections alive… for the delight and benefit of the whole town.63 Here Mencken reveals his usual critique of American life and culture and particularly, Baltimore City politics by commenting on the inability of Baltimore officials to “look into this matter.” Mencken openly criticizes the segregation ordinances and those who wrote them for insisting that “the negro keep incubating typhoid and tuberculosis” as the laws forced blacks to live in tight quarters in small neighborhoods around the city. Despite Mencken’s rampant racism, he established that containment does not enact health reform. Even the next Mayor James H. Preston conceded that the segregation ordinances failed to protect the health of the middle class, “The evil effects of the unhealthy state of the negro race are not confined within their own numbers… Regardless of our efforts to maintain [a] sanitary and healthful environment for ourselves and families the insidious influence of slum conditions is carried into our very midst to defile and destroy.”64 In short, the segregation ordinance failed under the guise of promoting public health and fighting disease and instead proved disastrous for Baltimore’s black community as a whole. The ordinances limited the housing supply available to an increasing black population and allowed property owners to inflate prices based on supply and demand. By 1920, Baltimore’s total population had grown to 733,826 - 108,696 of which were black. Though the ordinances did not seem to limit black housing opportunities on their face, circumstances conspired to decrease the amount of homes available to black residents citywide. Prospective black homeowners generally had a more difficult time acquiring the loans necessary to purchase their own homes. Though building and loan 27 associations existed, many refused to extend credit to black residents. According to census figures from 1910, which show homeownership among blacks in 73 southern cities with a black population of 5,000 or more, Baltimore ranked 72. Only 933 of the city’s 85, 098 blacks owned their homes.65 Thus, limited supply and increased demand for homes led to rising prices. Speculators often acquired homes and then converted them into tenements for three or more families. Thus, black residents had no choice but to crowd together in order to make rent. In 1915 W. Ashbie Hawkins, the first black resident to purchase a home in Baltimore in a white residential neighborhood, filed a challenge on behalf of the local NAACP chapter that reached the Maryland Court of Appeals. The court delayed a decision, pending the outcome of a U.S. Supreme Court ruling on the constitutionality of a Louisville law modeled on Baltimore’s segregation ordinances. The Supreme Court case was a product of a test case created by the NAACP to highlight the ordinance’s unconstitutionality. The scenario involved William Warley, president of the Louisville branch of the NAACP, and his attempt to buy a corner lot from white real estate agent Charles Buchanan. The lot was in a white block but surrounded by black residents. The contract arranged between Warley and Buchanan stated that Warley was not required to complete his half of the bargain “unless I have the right under the laws of the State of Kentucky and the City of Louisville to occupy said property as a residence.”66 The NAACP wanted to create a situation of role reversal whereby the white real estate agent was the one challenging the constitutionality of the ordinance. As anticipated, Buchanan sought fulfillment of the contract in the state courts and Warley used the ordinance as his 28 excuse for not fulfilling. The state court ruled the Louisville ordinance constitutional and therefore a valid excuse for Warley. Three U.S. Supreme Court cases that had been previously decided led to the logic for the US Supreme Court case of Buchanan v. Warley to succeed. First, in 1896 the Supreme Court ruled separate but equal was constitutional in Plesssy v. Fergeson effectively approving of Jim Crow laws. Thus, Plessy v. Fergeson allowed Baltimore’s segregation laws because the ordinances did not reflect or specifically relegate black residents to substandard or unequal housing. In 1908 the Court found the state of Kentucky had the power to require racial segregation in a private college in Berea College v. Kentucky. During this same era the Court had actively supported the credo of “laissez-faire” in Lochner v. New York in 1905. In this decision the Court protected the freedom of contract in the baking business from maximum-hour legislation. Lochner in particular supported the rights of citizens to pursue private business transactions free from state intervention. Thus, the NAACP hoped to appeal to the Court’s support of business and protect Buchanan’s right to engage in private real estate transactions without interference from the State of Louisville. Buchanan v. Warley reached the Supreme Court in April of 1916. The Baltimore City solicitor filed a brief supporting Louisville’s right to prevent a black from buying on a white block, while Hawkins filed a brief opposing Louisville’s segregation law.67 On November 5, 1917 the US Supreme Court overturned the ordinance on the basis of the Fourteenth Amendment’s protection of due process, “nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”68 The court ruled that a colored 29 person had the right to acquire property without state legislation discriminating against a person solely because of their color. Justice Day’s opinion found, “the difficult problem arising from a feeling of race hostility” insufficient for depriving citizens of their constitutional rights to acquire and use property without state legislation discriminating against them on the basis of race.69 The court distinguished the ordinance from other segregation laws because it destroyed the right of the individual to “acquire, enjoy and dispose of his property” and was thus opposed to the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Though the ordinance was discriminating on the basis of race, in the end it was overturned due to the universal guarantee of right to property within the United States. The black community celebrated Buchanan v. Warley across the nation. In Baltimore, the Afro-American said, “The joy in Bunkville when home run Casey came to bat in the final inning of a famous game with the bases loaded is nothing compared with the rejoicing in Baltimore, Richmond, St. Louis and other Southern towns over the outcome of the Louisville Segregation decision.”70 The decision in Buchanan v. Warley should have represented great strides for the black community in the realm of residential segregation. The Afro-American optimistically predicted, “colored folk will not be restricted to these sections, that they may hold property where they please, and live in any property that they own.”71 However the end of the segregation ordinances did not mean the end of state sanctioned segregation in Baltimore City. Though Baltimore’s experiment with legal apartheid was short lived, the residential segregation ordinances were only the first instance of institutionalized residential segregation in Baltimore. In the next hundred years, Baltimore City politicians 30 enforced residential segregation in de jure and de facto ways. Baltimore’s urban landscape today is characterized by the segregationist practices of public officials and private residents. One hundred years later one can see the lasting effects on both the physical landscape and the social consciousness of Baltimore City and its residents. The end of residential segregation ordinances did not mean an end to segregation in Baltimore City. The respite and joy felt by black residents after Buchanan v. Warely was short lived as city officials and private residents immediately embarked on a one hundred year long crusade to maintain and implement further means of residential segregation. 31  Chapter 3 Public and Private Partnerships in Residential Segregation The end of racial zoning did not mean the end of residential segregation in the city of Baltimore. Government initiatives and collective private action replaced Baltimore’s residential segregation laws with the same intention of segregating white and black residents. In 1918 Baltimore City’s boundaries expanded to the north, east and west (See Appendix 31). Between 1920 and 1930 housing construction peaked at 6,000 homes per year, most of them in the newly acquired territory giving the burgeoning middle class a place to flee a rapidly aging housing stock in the inner city. As Baltimore’s black population swelled, the boundaries of the segregated black community hardly expanded at all, accentuating the desperate situation of housing for Baltimore’s black residents. Baltimore public officials and civic leaders sought to maintain the silent conspiracy that was residential segregation through official and unofficial means. Mayor Preston was undaunted by the abolition of Baltimore’s segregation ordinances. Preston sought advice from Dr. A.K. Warner of Chicago where plans to keep blacks out of white territory were well under way. The Chicago Plan sought to “force out blacks already residing in [white] neighborhoods and [to ensure] that no others entered. The activities of [the white property owners’ association] consisted both of mass meetings to arouse the neighborhood residents against the blacks and publications in white journals of scathing denunciations of race.”72 This plan banded together public officials, private institutions and white residents of Baltimore to combine de jure segregation with de facto segregation. Slum clearance, restrictive covenants, redlining, 32 and blockbusting set the stage for the federal public housing agenda to become the primary vehicle for residential segregation in Baltimore City beginning in the 1930s. The first test of Preston’s plan came in August of 1918. Through an anonymous letter sent to the Mayor’s office Mayor Preston became aware that Louis Buckner, owner of a house on Lee Street, proposed to rent the second floor of his three story home to blacks in an all white neighborhood. Buckner promptly received a visit by the Secretary of the Real Estate Board of Baltimore and the Inspector of Buildings for Baltimore. Buckner was told that if the rental went through he would be cited for any code violations. Buckner relented and promised not to rent to blacks.73 City building inspectors and health department officials would cite code violations to those renting or selling to blacks in white neighborhoods. Thus, the conspiracy of residential segregation seeped into the inner workings of Baltimore City’s local government. In addition to pursuing the Chicago Plan, Mayor Preston planned to use condemnation as a land-acquisition tool to pursue racial segregation. As a pioneer of Baltimore’s first government sponsored Negro removal project, Mayor Preston targeted the area north of City hall for his a strategic “parking” initiative. The city began in 1914 to buy up properties that were used as rooming houses and cheap flats along St. Paul and Courtland Streets between Lexington and Centre Streets. Under the guise of beautifying the city, Mayor Preston cleared notorious sections of poor black neighborhoods that surrounded the downtown business district.74 Three churches, the old headquarters of the Afro-American newspaper, and the rented law office of W. Ashbie Hawkins and George McMechen (known for their part in opposing the segregation ordinances) were all destroyed. A park was created in the middle of bifurcated St. Paul Street and named after 33 Preston. In 1917, after Preston Garden’s construction had begun, the Mayor declared that health concerns justified the relocation of blacks on a faster scale and the creation of the park. Preston proposed “the elimination of certain congested sections, populated by Negroes, in which has been noted a very high percentage of deaths from…communicable diseases…”75 He noted that the quarantine of black citizens would occur in order to protect the health of white citizens as blacks constituted a menace to the health of the white population.76 This was the second time in Baltimore’s segregation narrative that public health concerns were used to justify residential segregation. When the project was completed in 1919, some called it Preston’s Folly, others called it Preston Gardens as it is still known today.77 Slum clearance began as an end in and of itself to eliminate dilapidated black neighborhoods throughout Baltimore City. It then blossomed into an integral facet of the public housing agenda with the passage of the Housing Act of 1940 and finally facilitated urban renewal through the Federal Housing Act of 1954. The idea of slum clearance was not new to Baltimore City. W.W. Emmart first suggested slum clearance in Baltimore in 1911 in his speech to the first City-Wide Congress. Emmart advocated the demolition of poor black residential neighborhoods in order to protect “better neighborhoods” and in the process attack “blight”, defined by overcrowded homes, impoverished residents, substandard sanitation and high incidence of disease, as a general phenomenon.78 Emmart depicted the cure to “blight”, a term that was equated with black areas of residence, as clearance without community development, The northwest section of Baltimore while in many ways the most desirable for residential purposes has been steadily depreciating. This condition should not be allowed to continue, when, by clearing out and replanning certain undesirable 34  neighborhoods; the opening up of wide boulevards connecting together the various parks or ‘squares’ of that section with Eutaw Place, a doubling of real estate values would justify the cost and the increased taxable basis would without doubt leave a margin of profit.79 Emmart’s keynote address set the stage for a slum clearance agenda, which ultimately destroyed several of the cities worst slums displacing hundreds of black residents without offering them another place to live. Slum clearance would be revisited when federal funds were made available to Baltimore through the creation of public housing for the nation’s poor in the 1930s and 1940s. In the 1920’s city officials began investigating the possibility of clearing the Lung Block – an area of the city notorious for its high concentration of tuberculosis and black residence. The Federated Charities, through its Colored Board of the Western District, drew up plans for the clearance of the area in 1913. The Urban League also surveyed the Lung Block and pushed for the redevelopment project. After the survey, four square blocks of houses were torn down and replaced by a whites-only school.80 Hundreds of families were displaced by this slum clearance project though no plans were made to provide alternate housing in other neighborhoods. If Baltimore City officials could conspire to enforce segregation, why couldn’t private citizens join the cause? The tactics used by city officials inspired private citizens to adopt their own means of residential segregation – racially restrictive covenants. Restrictive covenants were legal obligations imposed on the deeds of real estate imposed by the seller upon the buyer to do or not to do something. Racially restrictive covenants would require that only members of a certain race would occupy the property. As part of a national trend, residents of Baltimore City banded together through neighborhood 35 associations to draft agreements baring blacks from moving into their neighborhoods. Though the government was not a part of the drafting of these agreements, their constitutionality was upheld until the 1948 U.S. Supreme Court case Shelly v. Kraemer. Homeowners and developers attached restrictive covenants to the deeds of homes especially in the North and Northwest regions of the city. Such covenants hemmed black residents into specific neighborhoods and prevented them from out-migration. The housing development of Guilford to the north of the city explained, “At no time shall the land included in said tract or any part thereof or any building erected thereon be occupied by any Negro or person of Negro extraction.”81 Nearby Roland Park prided itself on building restrictive covenants into the deeds of all the homes it built thus creating Baltimore’s first homogenous community of upper class white residents. The Maryland Court of Appeals upheld the legality of restrictive covenants in 1938 in Meade v. Dennistone, often referred to as the NAACP’s attempt to “sue Jim Crow out of Maryland with the Fourteenth Amendment.”82 In 1936 Edmond D. Meade, a young black pastor, signed a contract to buy a house at 2227 Barclay Street in Baltimore. Mary Estelle Dennistone, owner of 2221 Barclay Street and Mary J. Becker, owner of 2234 Barclay Street, along with fifteen other property owners along the 2200 block of Barclay Street signed an agreement on November 14, 1927 stating that neither the said respective property nor any of them nor any part of them or any of them shall be at anytime occupied or used by any negro or negroes or person or persons either in whole or in part of negro or African descent except only that negro or persons of negro or African descent either in whole or in part may be employed as servants by any of the owners or occupants of said respective properties and as and whilst so employed may reside on the premises occupied by their respective employers...83 36 The covenant applied to an area of twenty-four square blocks and included the house in question. Dennistone and her neighbors hired the by now familiar William L. Marbury, one of the collaborators of the original segregation ordinances, to file suit on their behalf in an effort to restrain Meade and his family from moving in. Charles Houston of the NAACP took on Meade’s case and provoked the suit, hoping the case would allow him to attack racial discrimination. Meade asserted that this contract denied him equal protection of the laws under the Fourteenth Amendment. Ultimately the Maryland Court of Appeals upheld the use of racially restrictive covenants drawing upon the precedents set by Plessy v. Ferguson that separate but equal satisfied the conditions of equal protection and the Civil Rights Cases which forbade public, but not private discrimination.84 The Court asserted through preceding cases that the constitutionality of restrictive covenants was within the power of the state and thus covenants were protected. The use of racially restrictive covenants would continue until 1948. In Shelley v. Kraemer the U.S. Supreme Court struck down the use of restrictive covenants holding that the Fourteenth Amendment prohibited a state from enforcing restrictive covenants that would prohibit a person from owning or occupying property based on race or color.85 While America was in the throes of the Great Depression, President Roosevelt introduced a practice that would alter perceptions of race, religion and national origin in American cities. The Home Owners’ Loan Corporation (HOLC) began mapping 239 cities dividing and color-coding neighborhoods according to their perceived risk in terms of mortgage loan security. These maps were not enforced by the state but used by banking institutions to determine the distribution of loans and mortgages. Factors 37 included age and condition of housing alongside race, ethnicity, class, religion, economic status of residents and the overall homogeneity of the neighborhood. These factors were organized into a racial hierarchy of economic risk. “Redlining”, as it was commonly known, added a cartographic dimension to residential segregation and discrimination. Neighborhoods were to be classified by color – green indicted best, blue indicted still desirable, yellow indicated a definitely declining neighborhood and red meant “detrimental influences in a pronounced degree, undesirable population or an infiltration of it.”86 On these maps all white neighborhoods were colored green while all black neighborhoods were literally color coded as red, giving economic security a racial complexion. By labeling predominantly black neighborhoods as undesirable, the federal government encouraged stereotypes that dictated housing opportunities for black residents across the United States. Baltimore’s mapping began shortly after the opening of the HOLC’s Baltimore office on July 24, 1933. The agency sternly warned appraisers to document “infiltrations of lower-grade population or different racial groups,” into white neighborhoods, with this example, “Negro – rapid.”87 These colored maps guided mortgage lenders in assessing which residents or neighborhoods were risky or sound investments. Thus, a two-tiered lending system was born where white residents could obtain loans from banks while black citizens were forced to get their financing from speculators. By forcing black residents to obtain loans from a less formal or regulated lending market, black residents were subject to the whims of greedy speculators, eager to take advantage of vulnerable buyers by charging increased rates. 38  Discrimination was not limited to race. Nationalities were rated based on their real estate desirability according to a system of hierarchy developed by John Usher Smyth, a zoning activist. English, Germans, Scots, Irish and Scandinavians were rated at the top of the list while Russian Jews of the lower class were ranked number seven and Negroes number nine.88 Though it was acknowledged that some whites might move up in the ranks, black residents had no chance. Homer Hoyt, leader of the HOLC, stated, “If the entrance of a colored family into a white neighborhood causes a general exodus of white people, such dislikes are reflected in property values.”89 Most of inner city Baltimore – stretching one mile north and south from City Hall and two miles to the east and west – was redlined as hazardous for conventional lending.90 The McCulloh Street row houses, now completely inhabited by black residents, were within this area as were the homes on Eutaw Place and the neighborhood of Bolton Hill. All of the black neighborhoods throughout Baltimore were redlined with the exception of Wilson Park and Morgan Park, which were rated blue due to their surrounding white neighborhoods (See Appendix 1).91 By the late 1930s the HOLC was absorbed into the Federal Housing Administration. While the FHA in effect invented the modern mortgage system and guaranteed loans to creditworthy borrowers it also institutionalized redlining by promoting homeownership in new, primarily suburban neighborhoods that were racially homogenous. Furthermore, the FHA recognized and adhered to restrictive covenants at times upholding covenants even after they had expired. Redlining opened the door to another means used to both clear out and contain the black population of Baltimore: blockbusting. Real estate speculators often sought to 39 generate panic among white homeowners in neighborhoods on the cusp of change. They tried to convince people that there were black families moving into the neighborhood a consequence of which would be a decrease in property values. Speculators convinced white homeowners to sell before the value of their property was cut in half. Speculators would then advertise that house in only African American newspapers to get the first black family on a block that was all white. With the help of HOLC’s maps, classifying the desirability and value of homes in Baltimore’s neighborhoods based on race, real estate agents were able to capitalize on the panic of white homeowners. Furthermore, racially restrictive covenants allowed real estate agents to buy low and sell high. In such a tentative real estate market, real estate agents strategically sold or rented homes in less desirable, but still mostly white, neighborhoods to black families. Shortly after the first black residents moved into a borderline neighborhood, white residents panicked and moved out. Real estate speculators capitalized on the panic. Brokers purchased whole blocks at a distressed price from nervous white sellers and sold at a premium to desperate black buyers. After a block was “busted” by the initial new residents, real estate agents helped to flip neighborhoods from white to black and profited off of vulnerable black buyers who were unable to obtain loans for housing any other way. Baltimore real estate duo Manuel “Manning” Bernstein and Warren S. Shaw opened the Manning-Shaw Realty Company in 1953 under the premise of using blockbusting techniques. The black and white pair sought to break white neighborhoods and profit off of their blockbusting techniques.92 Westward expansion of the black community occurred because of blockbusting. Up until the mid 1940s the western 40 boundary of black residence was at Fulton Avenue. White residents occupied one side of the street and black residents occupied the other side. When the first black family crossed that boundary in 1944 the floodgates opened and the black community expanded westward with unprecedented speed. To be sure blockbusting was a strategy that came long after the advent of Federal Public Housing, but the role of public housing in shaping the racial landscape of Baltimore is so central that it deserves its own free standing discussion. Federal Public Housing was a cornerstone of the New Deal agenda of the 1930s, as a solution to the problems of the urban poor bred in slums. Social workers, municipal reformers and planners believed decent housing was the key to uplifting the urban poor. After President Roosevelt signed the National Industrial Recovery Act in June 1933, the Public Works Administration was organized under Secretary Ickes. Ickes established a Housing Division within the PWA to establish a federal housing program. The goals of the program were to relieve unemployment through jobs needed to build the projects, to furnish decent, sanitary dwellings to those whose incomes were so low that private capital was unable to provide adequate housing within their means, to clear or rehabilitate slum areas, and to demonstrate to the private sector the practicability of large-scale community planning.93 Despite good intentions, federal public housing was used as an instrument for the imposition of segregation throughout the United States, an example of which can be found in Baltimore City. The increase of racial residential segregation in Baltimore after the 1940s was due to a coordination of local city officials and federal government programs intending to sustain, increase and legitimate the residential separation of blacks and whites. 41  Site selection criteria was one of the primary vehicles through which federal public housing reinforced existing residential segregation patterns. In November 1939 the United States Housing Authority published site selection criteria in the Federal Register. These criteria were used for the next thirty years. The first criteria required “permanency of character” of the project meaning that the project should be built to last the length of the loan (sixty years) and that the site be appropriately positioned within the city as to withstand changing social patterns. Thus, planners were forced to study the effect of the project’s location on the city plan and the effect of the location within the city plan on the future of the project. Another consideration was the “sectional distribution of housing” which worked to divide the location of projects based on employment concentration, topographic barriers, and neighborhood preferences of racial groups. For example if a project served people of a particular race, job skill category or some other socioeconomic classification the USHA cautioned not to restrict their mobility within the metropolitan area by selecting an inappropriate site.94 With respect to race the regulations stressed that “where it has been decided that a project should be built to serve families who are predominantly of a given race, care must be exercised in selecting a site which will not do violence to the preferences and established habits of members of that race or to the community of which they may be a part.”95 Thus, the federal government supported local authorities in using Federal Public Housing to further reinforce the separation of blacks and whites in Baltimore City. In August 1933 Governor Albert Ritchie appointed Abel Wolman, the State Health Department Engineer, to head Maryland’s State Advisory Committee to the Public Works Administration (PWA). In October 1933 Wolman created the Joint Committee on 42 Housing in Baltimore recommend sites for public housing locations. The committee was chaired by W. W. Emmart and comprised of planners, architects, and engineers, but not social workers or groups that represented the black residents of the areas discussed. Emmart later added Dr. Ivan E. McDougle, professor of sociology at Goucher College, to the committee. McDougle was regarded as an expert on race relations and the local black community though he embraced the doctrine of separate but equal in race relations. McDougle’s appointment sanctioned the doctrine of separate but equal in Baltimore’s housing program in the 1930s.96 The Committee selected areas of study based on nine characteristics.4 First, the conditions of the dwellings were below a minimum standard for habitation, second, there was a loss of population due to unsatisfactory conditions, third, health and sanitary conditions were sub par, fourth, a declining tax return to the city, fifth, the proximity to better areas, sixth, accessibility to employment and inexpensive transportation, seventh, natural boundaries rendering the areas potentially self-sufficient and independent neighborhoods, eighth, public equipment of streets, schools, sewers, etc, and ninth, areas without probable future value except for dwelling use. The Committee balanced these characteristics to evaluate the desirability for rehabilitation of the areas studied.97 African Americans living in extremely poor building conditions occupied area 1. It was described as compact and well bounded area with good transportation and churches. Health conditions in area 1 were poor as evidenced by the highest tuberculosis rate per assessed area. Population had decreased severely between 1900-1910. Despite 4 The Report of the Joint Committee does not explicitly state where areas 1-9 are located within Baltimore City. 43 being occupied by black residents the Committee recommended the tract be reused for a white low rental group of clerical and technical employees. Area 2 was described as being in the “heart of the Negro belt of Baltimore” with 172 people per assessed acre in contrast to a city-wide average of 31.6.98 Despite overcrowding the neighborhood lost 20% of its population between 1920 and 1930. The Joint Committee attributed this loss to the “decay of buildings beyond the point of even low level Negro occupancy” revealing their belief that black Baltimoreans tended to occupy dismal dwellings.99 Despite a negative assessment, the Joint Committee recommended this area be slated for Negro occupancy. This recommendation illustrates the fact that the Committee did not believe black neighborhoods were worthy of rehabilitation efforts. Area 3 was originally white except for alley houses however white evacuation of the neighborhood led white homes, some previously mansions, to be converted into colored tenements. This resulted in a depreciation of improvements, substandard health conditions and high rates of juvenile delinquency. However the Committee noted that the area was adjacent to many important public buildings and areas of commercial use. Thus, the Committee concluded the city was losing revenue through inefficient use of the area. This led the Committee to slate Area 3 for redevelopment as a neighborhood for upper class white residents. It continued, “There is no good reason… for it to be inhabited by colored people as they are incapable of paying the rentals…” The area should be reclaimed from a depopulated colored tenement district to an ideal residential neighborhood for white-collar employees.100 Again the Joint Committee was quick to slate an area with potential for white residence using words such as “reclaim” to press the 44 notion that black residents had no business residing in such an “ideal” residential neighborhood. Area 4 was described as naturally hemmed in by railroad traffic and automobile traffic. It was long ago abandoned by whites and replaced by three story dwellings packed with black families. The Police Department and Family Welfare Association reported bad social and health conditions in the area. Infant mortality was nearly twice the city-wide rate and tuberculosis was also markedly high. Due to already poor conditions and the natural hemming in of the neighborhood the Joint Committee deemed the neighborhood “certainly only useable for Negro habitation…”101 Area 5 was another naturally bound neighborhood with the lowest social and health conditions. The population was almost entirely black. Despite the fact that these conditions were quite similar to other areas of study, the Joint Committee concluded more data was necessary in order to decide what to do with the neighborhood. Finally, Area 6 was located in the oldest part of Baltimore with most of the homes over ninety years old. The area was not naturally inhabited by black residents but had been repopulated by black migrants. Area 6 reported high infant mortality rates and the heaviest percentage of disease in the city as far as tuberculosis. Due to large streets fit for re-planning and the likelihood of an infiltration of industry this area too was slated for white redevelopment.102 The recommendations of the Joint Committee clearly exhibit racist attitudes. Only areas so far condemned that they were not even remotely fit for white habitation were slated for black residence. Of the areas slated for black residence, no mention of rehabilitation or revitalization efforts was made. Most of the areas studied were recommended for rehabilitation so that white residents could move back in. Thus, 45 Baltimore City’s rehabilitation agenda was motivated and dictated by racial characteristics and favored white residents. The committee identified a number of factors that caused blight in Baltimore City. First, Baltimore’s land area had tripled during its last annexation in 1918 (See Appendix 31). The city had spent its planning capacity and resources on the development of suburban areas within the annex. Second, planners in the 1920s had zoned a large area around the central business district as commercial with the assumption that the downtown would continue to expand. Instead, development of the annex, and industrial suburbanization in the early decades of the century had shifted development to the urban periphery. Third, the Great Depression worsened blight. When speculative owners were unable to collect rent from tenants on relief, they let their properties fall into tax delinquency. Finally, as the migration of blacks to Baltimore increased throughout the 1910s and 1920s, the neighborhoods surrounding downtown Baltimore had become predominantly populated by black residents. White Baltimoreans effectively hemmed black residents into these areas by means of race restrictive covenants enforced to protect new white neighborhoods from encroachment.103 Additionally, Baltimore officials strategically placed public housing projects on the cusp of black and white neighborhoods to create natural barriers and further hem black residents into specific neighborhoods. The Baltimore Sun reported on the survey conducted by Emmart in an article written by P. Stewart Macaulay entitled, A Basis for a Baltimore City Plan: Recentralization of Population and Elimination of “Blighted” Areas. Macaulay reported that Baltimore had, 46  …expanded and flourished along her circumference and that, at the same time, she has been nourishing a rotten core. Suburbs have spread out on all sides, many of them springing up miles away from the heart of the city. And downtown, in the older sections, populations have been declining, houses have suffered from obsolescence and dilapidation and whole neighborhoods have been threatened with imminent abandonment.104 The committee concluded that rehabilitation of such areas would restore property values and bring higher tax returns to the city of Baltimore. In March 1934 the Baltimore Urban League undertook a project to complete their own survey of The Negro Community of Baltimore. The goal of this study was to present a comprehensive picture of Negro life in Baltimore, ascertain the specific social needs of the community, and provide a factual basis for a constructive social program.105 The survey responded to the racial assumptions in Baltimore urban policy by reporting on questions of population, public health, employment, housing and crime within black residential areas in Baltimore City. First, the study addressed the issue of population. As of 1935 there were approximately 145,000 black Baltimore City residents. The ratio of whites to blacks remained constant in Baltimore City until 1920 when it increased five times as rapidly as the white population of the city.106 Contrasting later reports about in-migration of black residents from Southern states, the Urban League report believed most of Baltimore’s increase in black population was due to movement of black citizens from rural Maryland to the city. Employment was the second most important topic for the Urban League as the results of the survey helped explain the condition of black residents. The white population of Baltimore could be found working in the manufacturing and mechanical 47 industries while the black population worked primarily in domestic and personal service. Black and white residents competed for employment in the realm of industry where both were accepted for unskilled or semi-skilled jobs. In the area of domestic help, however, black residents dominated over available jobs. The Urban League found that nearly three- fourths of the city’s female domestics, and more than half the males engaged in domestic service were black. Black residents were excluded from skilled crafts, white-collar work, and public service. Finally, the report classified an area of employment aptly called “racial service”, a field created by the automatic separation of the races, which included the public service group, separate public institutions and business establishments that catered to the black community’s needs i.e. beauticians, barbers, insurance, etc. This group provided employment for about 5,500 of a total population of 108,696 black Baltimore City residents.107 The Urban League concluded that unemployment was one of the greatest obstacles black residents had to overcome in Baltimore City. Over forty percent of black families in Baltimore were receiving relief due to unemployment as compared to only thirteen percent of white families. Generally wages of black workers were lower than wages of white workers. Further exacerbating the issue was that blacks tended to be employed in the lowest paid and least skilled jobs.108 Low wages, higher rates of unemployment, and higher rents explained why, in 1934, the black community of Baltimore faced extreme economic hardships. This is further reflected in the inability of black residents to move out of blighted areas, as white residents were able to do. More than two thirds of Baltimore’s 33,000 black families lived in four of the city’s twenty wards.109 These statistics speak to the inability of blacks to migrate out of 48 the blighted neighborhoods to which they were confined due to segregation laws, restrictive covenants and an inability to afford or gain financing to buy a home. The Urban League believed that underlying the problem of housing for black Baltimore City residents was the fact that black residential areas tended to be areas of second-generation homes. Such areas frequently featured out of date homes that did not meet sanitary provisions. Although these homes were designed for the use of one family, given that thirty-three percent of all black families took lodgers (as compared to 24.2% of white families), their size was conducive to black families taking in more and more lodgers to help pay rent. Thus, these homes became rapidly overcrowded. The Urban League concluded that the solution for the problem of black housing is, “first of all, an adequate solution of city planning and housing reconstruction.”110 The Urban League made a study of six housing areas covering a population of 20,000, mostly occupied by black residents. The committee chose the six areas because they were “blighted” and because homes were beyond rehabilitation, population was declining, health and sanitary conditions were substandard, tax returns were low, and the areas generally had little future value except for dwelling purposes.111 The report found that Baltimore did not have “slum areas” but instead the central business district was ringed by blighted areas defined as such by, “a high percentage of tax delinquent property either occupied or unoccupied, on which repairs had not been made for a long period.”112 The Urban League drew several conclusions about the condition of life for black residents of Baltimore City. Generally, the population of Baltimore per acre was 31.8. Within the areas studied the population per acre ranged from 87.3 to 172 indicating severe over crowding.113 The tuberculosis rate in these areas ranged from six to eleven 49 times the rate in the entire city and the infant mortality rate was 30 to 50 points higher supporting the claim that standards of public health were worse in black residential neighborhoods. As with the original segregation ordinances, the coincidence of black neighborhoods being targeted for slum clearance was justified by public health fears. Furthermore, the study showed that the crime rate in two of the six areas was 43.6 and 24.9, as compared to the average city crime rate of 8.7.114 As other organizations previously, the Urban League too mislabeled the causes of residential segregation as the symptoms of “blight”. Summary paragraphs about each of the six areas studied are indicative of attitudes towards blacks in Baltimore and reveal differing standards of living conditions for the white and black residents of the city. Area 1, though primarily inhabited by black residents, was slated for re-use by a white low rental group. Due to the proximity of good schools, churches, shops and amusement centers for black residents Area 2 was slated for rehabilitation and occupancy by a somewhat higher income group. The Urban League believed Area 3 should be reclaimed from an uninhabited black tenement district to a residential neighborhood for white white-collar employees. Area 4 was deemed, “only useable for Negro habitation” due to heavy automobile traffic on either side creating a naturally “hemmed in” neighborhood. Area 5 was characterized as having very bad housing and poor social and health conditions. Area 6, according to the Urban League, was not naturally a black area but had been repopulated by black residents do to obsolescence. The League believed the black inhabitants in Area 6 should be evacuated from the area to make room for white families.115 The Urban League’s classification of each area reveals the attitudes of housing 50 planners toward black housing issues facing Baltimore City. Although black residents primarily inhabited all six areas, the Urban League planned to make three of them available for whites and two available to blacks. These three areas should be turned over to white residents and rebuilt, according to the Urban League, because of their proximity to public transportation and the desirability of their location.116 Only Area 2, where buildings were decaying was said to have, “no other value except for Negro residence and never will have,” and Area 4 which was, “certainly only usable for Negro habitation unless commerce and industry can absorb it, which seems doubtful,” were reserved for black residents.117 Thus, even though the Urban League acknowledged racism as the cause of blight they still conceded that salvageable neighborhoods should be given to white residents. The conclusions of the Urban League’s study of housing conditions reveal contrasting ideas about housing removal and rehabilitations based on race. The League did not hesitate to suggest that neighborhoods fit for white residence, but currently inhabited by black citizens, should be evacuated and turned over to whites. Thus clear priority was given to white residents over black and no thought was given or suggestion made as to where the displaced black residents should relocate. Even neighborhoods that had historically been inhabited by black residents like Area 3 were turned over to white residents because they had not deteriorated to the point that they were suitable for black residence. Furthermore, neighborhoods like Area 4 were deemed suitable for black residence solely on the basis that had natural barriers promoting segregation. The Urban League thus made no secret of their belief that areas that could be rehabilitated should be 51 returned to white use while neighborhoods that were deteriorated beyond repair should either be occupied by blacks or demolished entirely. “The Health of the Baltimore Negro is more than a matter of medicines, hospitals and doctors,” began the section of the study entitled Keeping Healthy, “It is intricately interwoven with the problems of economic security, literacy and cultural levels…”118 Thus, while Urban League officials preserved quality land for white occupancy, these reformers also saw direct links between health, housing and structural racism. The mortality rate of black residents in 1934 was the same as that of white citizens twenty- five years earlier. In 1933 the death rate among the black population of Baltimore City was 1,663 per 100,000 of the population, over a third higher than the white death rate. In 1933 seven diseases – heart ailments, pneumonia, tuberculosis, nephritis, cerebral hemorrhage and softening of the brain, venereal disease and cancer – were the cause of 71% of all deaths in the black population.119 The infant mortality rate for black babies was higher than for white as well with 87.5 per 1,000 black babies dying before their first birthday and only 53.2 per 1,000 white babies dying before their first birthday. As exemplified in the section of the study designating neighborhoods for white or black occupancy, high rates of disease, infant mortality and death were reason to condemn a neighborhood as unfit for white inhabitance. The Urban League used poor health of residents as justification to label a neighborhood condemned. The Urban League considered the importance of several factors that contributed to the higher rates of death and disease among the black population. Being generally poorer, black residents frequently could not afford medical treatment. Furthermore, in 1926 a study of hospital and dispensary care available to black patients in the city 52 revealed that it was inadequate. Wards were so overcrowded with beds that there was no space for a chair or a table, that of 535 available rooms there was only one private room and five semi-private rooms available to blacks and finally, there was a theoretical over- supply of 205 beds for white patients and a lack of at least 70 beds for black patients because of Jim Crow care.120 Thus, the Urban League exposed factors beyond the control of the black population of Baltimore but that were attributing to generally poorer health. The Urban League’s survey also devoted a section of its research to the discussion of race relations in Baltimore City. The League concluded that segregation and separation had, “tended to prevent the Negro’s adequate social functioning in the Baltimore community.”121 Baltimore blacks, uniquely caught in a city with northern and southern affiliations, enjoyed freedoms of northern cities such as sitting in any seat on the bus, yet were discriminated from department stores. Schools and movie theaters were segregated, the survey noted, yet Maryland was the only state in the United States with an Interracial Commission created by the State Legislature and appointed by the governor.122 The Interracial Commission was responsible to, “consider questions concerning the welfare of colored citizens of Maryland, recommend legislation and sponsor movements looking to the welfare of such people and the improvement of interracial conditions.” Thus, Baltimore’s black residents in 1935 found themselves at a crossroads between enjoying more rights and privileges than blacks in the Deep South and extreme discrimination and segregation on the part of white citizens and institutions as compared to the north. This disparity reflects the fundamental confusion in Baltimore’s identity as both a northern and southern city. 53  The Urban League concluded with a series of recommendations and reforms based on its’ findings. First, the report advocated that steps be taken to improve housing conditions. The Urban League criticized present inclinations to, “develop new segregated Negro areas in the more remote sections of the city”123 and urged persons close to the black community to be consulted before plans were drawn. Second, the League cautioned public and private officials to acknowledge the need for secure employment for black residents. In the realm of public health the League advocated a “vigilant, militant and intelligent campaign against venereal diseases (and tuberculosis).”124 Additionally, the League advocated for an improvement in care for mentally ill black residents, higher education for black students at public expense, and increased employment for blacks in the field of public health. Most importantly, the League emphasized the importance of the ballot and organized political presence in Baltimore City affairs, an idea that was far ahead of its time. Both the survey conducted by the Joint Committee and the study conducted by the Urban League pointed out similar characteristics of residential life for black Baltimoreans. Life in predominantly black neighborhoods was characterized by poor health, high crime, unemployment, and overcrowding. However the Joint Committee and the Urban League differed in their recommendations. While both the Joint Committee and the Urban League recommended rehabilitation of areas that could be converted for white use, the Urban League also made several pointed recommendations to improve the overall quality of life for black residents in Baltimore while simultaneously improving the built environment. Furthermore, the Urban League focused on structural constraints inflicted upon black residents that subsequently perpetuated bad behavior rather than 54 blaming race as the cause. Still, it is no surprise that ultimately Baltimore officials favored the recommendations made by the predominantly white, city government employed Joint Committee as opposed to the predominantly black Urban League. Using the growing body of evidence to suggest that life in black residential areas was substandard, the city council took advantage of the opportunity to legitimize segregation, slum clearance, and quarantine practices with the advent of federal public housing. Studies like these reinforced motivations for segregated housing projects since so many social ills were equated with race. Thus, housing authorities around the country found justification in demolishing areas of black residence to make room for housing projects that severed to quarantine and divide the city into black and white. In March 1934 the Associated Architects, comprised of architects who had served on the Joint Committee and had participated in the aforementioned study, submitted an application to the Housing Division for $31 million for seven housing projects on five different sites. In June, the Housing Division allocated $2 million to Baltimore.125 Based on the Joint Committee study the Associated Architects ultimately chose the McCulloh Street area for four projects on two adjacent sites. The McCulloh street area, bounded by Dolphin Street to the northwest, Druid Hill Ave to the southwest, Biddle Street to the southeast and Madison Ave to the northeast was seen as integral to the Associated Architects as it would, “provide adequate housing for two rent brackets of negros and two rent brackets of the white population.”126 Site 2-A was described as: once luxurious buildings of the post-bellum period, from which the well-to-do owners have departed nearly twenty years ago… Reinhabited as multiple dwellings by colored people, the properties now owned as income producers have been allowed to disintegrate to a point of practical uselessness… fifty-four [houses] are now vacant and are considered untentable. This is the most advanced 55  case of ‘blight’ in the city… [The site] is close to the centre of colored shopping, education, amusement and population.127 The Associated Architects believed that adjacent site 3-A was suffering due to its proximity to the most serious area of blight in the city and its proximity to an area of black residence. If site 2-A was rehabilitated, the Architects believed site 3-A, “could and should be a white residential neighborhood, buttressing property values in the conservative and well liked white residence to the North, now terribly threatened by the dilapidation to the South and West of it.”128 From this plan one can see that the Architects, like the Joint Committee and Urban League before it, intended to build public housing projects in areas that would ultimately stabilize and benefit nearby white neighborhoods. Black residents would be removed from border areas and contained in concentrated public housing more centralized within black neighborhoods. Furthermore, the strategic placement of projects between white and black neighborhoods allowed the buildings to act as barriers between the neighborhoods. Both the black community and white planners supported the location of 2-A between a white and black neighborhood but for drastically different reasons. Black community leaders believed that redeveloping the area where the city’s largest black community intersected with a middle-class white neighborhood and the business district would strengthen community bonds and eliminate racial boundaries. White planners, on the other hand, prized these projects because they would reinforce segregation in the area where the controversy over residential segregation first began.129 Planners chose a site on the border between the slums at the south end of the black neighborhood in the Northwest and the Eutaw Place neighborhood to establish a buffer between a black and a white 56 neighborhood.130 Assistant architectural engineer W.E. Trevvett believed that the purpose of the proposed redevelopment sites was, “not for slum clearance but rather [for] using the projects to block the negro from encroaching upon white territory.”131 Though originally planners wanted to construct two projects for black occupancy on the west and two projects for white occupancy on the east, ultimately federal and local officials resolved only to proceed with a project for black occupancy in the McCulloh area, between the white and black neighborhoods. A new site for white tenants was located in the Waverly neighborhood, which had a population slightly more than half black within an otherwise white community. Thus, in keeping with the primary goal of housing officials to reinforce, strengthen and expand white communities, the housing stock where the black population of Waverly lived would be removed to make room for the white projects.132 Segregated housing projects were common around the country during the 1930s. Between 1934 and 1937 the PWA contracted for 51 projects in 36 cities, forty-nine of which were built in the continental United States. By 1937, twenty-one of the projects were occupied exclusively by white tenants, fifteen were occupied exclusively by black tenants, seven were racially mixed with tenants assigned by race to separate buildings or wings and only six were racially integrated.133 Roosevelt’s policy provided for a large level of discretion on the state level meaning states were free to reinforce, create or breakdown existing patterns of segregation as they pleased. In Baltimore, however, a long history of segregated housing predated federal public housing and thus, the agenda of segregation prevailed. 57  The agenda of slum clearance to make room for federal housing projects was never realized in Baltimore City. In January 1935, the Federal District Court of the Western District of Kentucky ruled in United States v. Certain Lands in City of Louisville, Jefferson County, KY that the Federal government did not have eminent domain to conduct slum clearance for public housing.134 On July 20, 1935 the Appellate Court upheld the lower court’s ruling. Following this decision the Housing Division instructed the Maryland Commission to abandon the McCulloh and Waverly projects and seek vacant land sites instead. The McCulloh neighborhood was eventually absorbed into the nearby Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) while Waverly slowly declined. Today, Chesapeake Habitat for Humanity rehabilitates abandoned and dilapidated row homes in Waverly. The Housing Division suggested a site for black projects in southwest Baltimore and a site for white projects in east Baltimore creating the racial boundaries now deeply ingrained into Baltimore’s landscape.135 In 1937, the United States Housing Act replaced the Housing Division of the PWA with the United States Housing Authority (USHA). The new division differed from the PWA in that it was restricted to granting financial and technical aid to local Public Housing Authority’s. The goal of USHA was to, “assist the several States and their subdivisions in alleviating present recurring unemployment, and to remedy the unsafe, and unsanitary housing conditions and the acute shortage of decent, safe and sanitary dwelling for families of low income in rural or urban communities.”136 Between 1938 and 1941 USHA built approximately 132,500 units in 163 housing projects nationwide. 35% were housing projects occupied exclusively by black tenants, exclusively white tenants occupied 21%, and 44% were racially integrated or bisected. 58  The national pattern of segregation in housing projects was reflected in Baltimore City. The New Deal housing program set a precedent in 1934 with its “neighborhood composition rule” which prevented federally funded housing projects from altering the racial composition of their neighborhoods. The Housing Authority of Baltimore City (HABC) was formed on December 13, 1937 shortly after the creation of USHA. Mayor Howard Jackson appointed five men to the authority’s board of commissioners including Clarence W. Perkins as the executive director and one black man, George Murphy. The HABC was consistent with national patterns of segregated housing projects building only white and black projects and no mixed projects. Thus the HABC not only endorsed segregation but also increased it. The HABC selected five sites from among the “extensive regions of blight” identified in the 1934 Joint Committee report. The HABC classified the cause of blight in racial terms, “The inhabitants of these alley dwellings5 usually succeed in moving into the perimeter of the block when their interior houses become ruinous. This in turn forces the white street dwellers to abandon the street.” 137 The HABC decided to place a black project, Frederick Douglass Homes to the north and a white project, Clarence Perkins Homes, in the south. In order to address the issue of relocating families displaced by slum clearance projects, the HABC also decided to build two projects on the outskirts of Baltimore City (one white, one black) to house the displaced residents. One Baltimore resident agreed that there was a profound racial logic to public housing saying “it appears that the boundaries of colored neighborhoods will be expanded somewhat by the pressure to find homes for those driven from slum clearance 5 Residents of alley dwellings were generally black. 59 sites.”138 This tactic allowed planners to justify segregation when planning housing projects. The HABC often sited the black residents in a prospective project site as a “serious social problem” believing that “clearing the area of its present population will go far to reverse the present trend to depopulation in this part of the city.”139 Again the HABC linked race to social ills such as poor health, crime, poverty and unemployment, here falsely naming the conditions of black residence as the cause, rather than a symptom of larger conditions. On October 4, 1939 the groundbreaking on Baltimore City’s first government- subsidized homes began. On the corner of Poppleton and Saratoga streets, deep in the heart of West Baltimore, federal housing official Nathan Straus broke ground on what would become “Poe Homes” when it opened for residents on September 28, 1940.140 The project replaced 315 slum houses with homes for 298 black families. The first five public housing projects opened in the early 1940s, Edgar Allen Poe Homes, Latrobe Homes, McCulloh Homes, Douglass Homes and Perkins Homes, were located in neighborhoods surrounding the central business district.141 Three of the projects, Poe, McCulloh and Douglass homes, were designated for black residents while the remaining two, Latrobe and Perkins homes, were reserved for whites.142 The desire to manipulate and reinforce racial boundaries became more apparent in the site selection of Latrobe and Perkins Homes. Latrobe Homes, for example, straddled the boundary between a receding white Catholic community and a growing black community in east Baltimore. In strategically placing all-white Latrobe projects in this neighborhood, the HABC hoped to return the area to white use and push the black community out (See Appendix 32). The Baltimore Sun noted, “that the site was selected deliberately to halt 60 the northward expansion of the East Baltimore Negro District.”143 Similarly, Perkins homes were placed to reinforce residential segregation in East Baltimore by removing a pocket of black residency that was surrounded by white neighborhoods (See Appendix 3).144 In all, slum clearance projects made way for the five federal housing projects, which displaced 2,733 families.145 The projects consisted of low-rise blocks of about six attached units with a small front yard. They were generally arranged in a grid pattern and public space was minimal. Five more projects were built in the 1940s for war workers and four, Fairfield Homes, Brooklyn Homes, Westport Homes and O’Donnell Heights, were located on vacant land outside the inner city in areas of heavy industry. Some of these homes were only intended to provide temporary shelter. But Brooklyn homes, for example, were composed of one thousand wooden units and were not demolished until 1962.146147 Ten years after the study of blighted areas conducted by the Joint Committee and the Urban League, the Commission on City Plan released a report on the Redevelopment of Blighted Residential Areas in Baltimore, Conditions of Blight Some Remedies and Their Relative Costs on July 1, 1945. The plan emphasized containment of black residents. The Commission chose five sample areas of blighted neighborhoods for its study: South Waverly, of mixed use and race in 1945 but previously a predominantly white community, University Area, of mixed use and race in 1945 with the northwest section predominantly black; Camden, of mixed use and race but a predominantly black neighborhood; Armory, of mixed race but mostly white and primarily residential, and Broadway, mostly black and mostly residential in 1945.148 61  The Commission found these areas to be representative of the variations found within blighted areas as to density of occupancy, race of population, rental range and location in relation to the center of the city. The City as a whole was 19.4% non-white as compared to 44.9% non-white in the blighted areas studied. Population gain based on race throughout the city was mirrored in blighted neighborhoods. Between 1930 and 1940 the total population in Baltimore gained 6.7% - the white population gained 4.6% and the non-white population gained 16.6%. In the blighted areas the total population gain was 3.8%, with white population loss of 5.44% and non-white population gain of 17.83%.149 Thus, blighted neighborhoods still followed patterns of overcrowding and predominantly black residence. Though federal public housing was intended to be a solution to the problems of the urban poor bred in slums, clearly it was addressing a symptom rather than attacking the cause itself. The Federal Housing Act of 1949 created the Urban Redevelopment Agency and gave it the authority to subsidize three fourths of the cost of local slum clearance and urban renewal projects. In Baltimore project construction in the 1950s was guided by the Federal Housing act and by the Baltimore City Housing Authority’s report Baltimore’s Blighted Areas. The report sparked the urban renewal movement in the city after it classified most of the inner city as blighted. Title I of the Housing Act provided support and federal subsidies for slum clearance and private redevelopment while Title II authorized, nationally, the construction of over 800,000 units of public housing to aid in relocation and ease the housing plight of the poor. The enthusiasm surrounding urban renewal stopped short at public housing. Between 1950 and 1969 only five new projects 62 and three extensions (total 4259 units) were opened as opposed to the twelve projects (5421 units) built in half the time during the 1940s in Baltimore.150 The first two redevelopment projects undertaken included the Waverly development and the Hopkins-Broadway developments. The Waverly project would displace almost 200 families, more than half of them black, and build 291 new homes for white occupancy. The Hopkins-Broadway site was home to 1,175 families, 1,138 of which were black. The plans would displace 956 families replacing the slums with only 178 “moderately” priced units for black occupancy, 656 and 506 other dwelling units would be priced at market rate. In the case of the Hopkins-Broadway site blacks represented almost 90% of those to be displaced while 85% of the new dwellings were set aside for whites.151 In the end displaced black families were increasingly compacted into already overcrowded black neighborhoods due to economic constraints and racially restrictive covenants. The Urban League objected that the “segregation of colored families in the Waverly area, the limited access of Negro tenants to the Hopkins project and the creation of added blight by rehousing displaced Negro families in areas which are now overcrowded does not constitute redevelopment.”152 However as before, Baltimore officials were not interested in creating new housing opportunities for black residents or replacing the housing they demolished to make way for white projects or far fewer black homes. Instead, Baltimore officials were only concerned with removing blacks from areas that they believed were better suited for whites. Rather than create a permanent solution for the housing shortage for black Baltimore residents, Baltimore officials merely perpetuated a problem that had been growing since the turn of the century. 63  In Baltimore in 1941, white tenants occupied 701 public housing units while black tenants occupied 1,125 units.153 Thus, white occupancy was out of proportion with their residence and black residents were disproportionately excluded from occupancy. By the 1950’s there were more than 9,000 public housing units in Baltimore City.154 The HABC continued its agenda of slum clearance and increasing population density with the use of high-rise elevator buildings. Lexington Terrace, opened in December 1958, replaced 457 structures housing 561 predominantly black families with 677 units in four eleven-story buildings. George B. Murphy Homes opened in October 1963, replacing 473 structures and 561 families with 758 new units.155Studies showed that the inner city black population was in the greatest need of public housing. Less than ten percent of white households lived in substandard housing in 1960, one third of non-white households did. Despite this fact the first project built in the 1950s, Claremont, was built outside the inner city in a white neighborhood for white tenants (See Appendix 33).156 Though the head of Housing and Home Finance Agency (HHFA) could have interpreted Brown v. Board of Education (1954) as a mandate to desegregate public housing, Albert M. Cole did not overtly subscribe to the court’s mandate to integrate. Instead, the HHFA released a new urban renewal plan which linked public housing to the need to relocate impoverished, displaced, inner city, minority residents away from white neighborhoods where black children would be able to integrate schools.157 The Federal Housing Act of 1954 modified urban renewal and redevelopment by requiring effected communities to adopt code enforcement, relocation and other methods to prevent further spread of urban blight. This mandate led to the construction of high-rise, inner city projects filled almost exclusively by black residents. The now infamous Layfayette 64 Courts was the first of many high-rise style projects opened in the early 1950s and early 1960s.158 The second half of the 1960s brought many changes to the public housing agenda in Baltimore City. Most importantly, federal aid became available for the rehabilitation of existing units for low-income occupancy and the leasing of existing units for public housing tenants. In 1969 Baltimore’s housing authority started a new public housing program modeled after one in Philadelphia using the funds made available by federal aid. The program called “Rehab Housing” converted vacant row houses into public housing units throughout the city. The first major rehabilitated project opened at Mount Winans, next to Westport Homes. The program was eventually renamed the Scattered Site program and eventually rehabbed 2,845 units with $40,000 to $45,000 in federal funds.159 The homes that were selected for rehabilitation reinforced existing residential patterns thus creating areas of black concentration. In 1964 the government passed the Civil Rights Act, which introduced the concept of racial equality into federal programs. It was not until 1972, however, that racial and economic integration became a formal goal of the public housing site selection policy.160 For the first thirty years of the public housing agenda in Baltimore local officials disguised the blatantly segregationist program of public housing as “reducing blight” in the inner city. In fact, local officials used public housing to reinforce and enhance the existing separation between white and black in Baltimore City. Until 1964 the only official racial consideration governing the location of public housing sites in Baltimore was the USHA requirement that the Local Housing Authority preserve, rather than disrupt, community social structures, which in fact served to justify further 65 segregation.161 However in Baltimore, public housing sites were selected to disrupt community and residence patterns. Whenever possible, Baltimore officials strategically placed a project in a site either to convert a neighborhood on the cusp of integration into white residence or to create a racially boundary between two areas. Thus, most housing projects built before 1964 reinforced and perpetuated racial segregation as it existed in Baltimore due to the segregation ordinances, slum clearance, restrictive covenants, redlining, and blockbusting. Baltimore began to officially integrate its public housing program in 1965. The all-white projects, Brooklyn Homes, O’Donnell Heights and Claremont, were most affected by this new agenda (See Appendix 33). Integration was well planned and executed at Brooklyn and Claremont however residents and members of the surrounding community of O’Donnell strongly opposed integration. New black tenants were excluded from many nearby shops and recreational facilities so although the housing projects themselves were integrated, the community did not welcome new tenants with open arms. Integration in Baltimore never involved bringing white residents into predominantly black areas – instead it always meant moving blacks into a predominantly white neighborhood.162 Similar problems faced Flag House Courts, an inner city project that changed from white to predominantly black due to a racially changing neighborhood rather than new integration policy (See Appendix 33). When it was built in 1965, Flag House Courts was located in a predominantly white neighborhood with Little Italy on one side and a Jewish community on the other. Slowly the Jewish community migrated to the suburbs as black residents moved in. The manager of Flag House Courts observed exploitation on 66 the part of white shopkeepers and severe exclusion despite the “integration” of black residents in a predominantly white neighborhood. 163 Ultimately the desegregation of housing projects in Baltimore was deemed a failure. More than fifty years after housing projects were forced to integrate, in 1995 black residents of Baltimore’s public housing projects filed a class action suit against the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) and the Housing Authority of Baltimore City (HABC) for establishing Baltimore’s public housing system as a segregated program. In 2005 Thompson v. HUD was decided in favor of the black residents and the segregationist practices of the HABC were officially acknowledged.164 67  Chapter 4 Riots and Revival For three days following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King on April 4, 1968 Baltimore erupted in a series of civil disturbances that further altered the social climate and physical landscape of the city for years to come. One Baltimore resident recalled, “After news spread that Martin Luther King Jr. had been shot, you could feel the tension in the air everywhere.”165 The city of Baltimore was overcome by an upheaval of racial violence that left six dead, dozens injured and hundreds of public and private buildings almost all but destroyed. White-owned commercial spaced in black communities were specifically targeted here. Liquor stores, drug stores, taverns and grocery stores were the most frequent targets of burning, looting and vandalism. One hundred and twenty seven grocery stores were looted, another thirty were looted and burned, three were burned but not looted and twenty-nine showed signs of vandalism. Seventy-four liquor stores were looted, sixteen burned and looted, and four burned without looting. Thirty-two drug stores were looted, two were burned, eight were subjected to fire and looting and four were vandalized. Looting was reported at forty taverns and bars, two were burned, nine were looted and burned and signs of vandalism were found at seven other locations. A total of 1,049 businesses were damaged.166 Though the unrest lasted no more than three days, the violence spread over a thousand city blocks. The area covered by the riots was bounded by Patterson Park Avenue to the East, West Belvedere Avenue and 33rd Street to the North, Hilton Street and Hilton Road on the West and Pratt Street and Washington Boulevard to the South.167 68 The events culminated in the deployment of thousands of armed National Guard troops across the east and west Baltimore on the orders of Governor Spiro Agnew and the addition of regular Army troops by President Lyndon Johnson. Although the riots were sparked by Dr. King’s assassination, the onset of violence in Baltimore’s black ghettos was long anticipated. During the winter and early spring leading up to the riots of 1968, black spokespeople had urged Baltimore’s white politicians to respond to the need for better housing, job opportunities and recreation in Baltimore’s black ghettos. Milton L. Holmes, administer of CORE’s job-training program in Baltimore in the 1960’s explained the mounting tension, “The potential of violence is definitely here because of the racist society we live in. The white people have not been sincere in their efforts to improve the status of black society…they got to be concerned about the feeling of rebellion in the black community.”168 Both black and white city officials predicted civil disorders during the summer but still plans were not made to address growing concerns of black city residents. Instead, the assassination of Dr. King in April 1968 triggered a devastating expression of years of frustration and anger that manifested in rioting across Baltimore City. The riots of 1968 forced white and black Baltimore residents to confront the racial tensions and disparities that many had ignored for sixty years. For the first time white city officials were forced to contend with the blatant inequality of housing, employment opportunity, educational opportunities, resources and official attention toward black ghetto neighborhoods in East and West Baltimore. However, Urban renewal and redevelopment projects that occurred as a result of the riots only further segregated Baltimore City residents. Visions of redevelopment focused on the business and tourist 69 corridor centered around the inner harbor alongside renovation of the streets hit hardest by the riots while continuing to neglect the blatant needs for housing, educational, and social service development throughout black communities. In the end the riots gave life to the possibilities of redevelopment, but in Baltimore City, redevelopment became another expression of residential segregation. Racial tension exploded onto the national landscape in the summer of 1967. Large sections of Newark, Detroit and Cleveland were devastated by civil disturbances in July with similar disturbances reaching from Milwaukee and Memphis to Cambridge on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. In response to mounting civil unrest since riots first began in 1965 with the Watts Riot in Los Angeles, the Division Streets Riots of 1966 in Chicago and the 1967 Newark Riots, President Lyndon Johnson appointed the Kerner Commission on July 28, 1967 to investigate “[t]he origins of the recent major civil disorders in our cities. The Kerner Study focused on the basic causes and factors leading to such disorders,” and proposed “methods and techniques for averting or controlling such disorders,” including "[t]he appropriate role of the local, state and Federal authorities.”169 The Commission was composed of eleven members: Otto Kerner, Governor of Illinois, John Lindsay, Mayor of New York, Edward Brooke, Massachusetts Republican Senator, Fred Harris Oklahoma Democratic Senator, James Corman, California Democratic Congressman, William McCulloh, Ohio Republican Congressman, Charles Thornton, founder of defense contractor Litton Industries, Roy Wilkins, Executive Director of the NAACP, I.W. Abel, President of US Steelworkers of American, Herbert Jenkins, Police Chief in Atlanta, and Katherine Peden, Kentucky Commissioner of Commerce. Nine months later the National Advisory Commission on 70 Civil Disorders released its controversial findings on the causes of the riots and its recommendations for the future on February 29, 1968. The report berated federal and state governments for failed housing, education and social services policy. The commission believed that white racism, exemplified by symbols of white authority such as the police, was both the cause and remedy of civil disorder. Furthermore, white society was responsible for the creation of the ghetto, “What white Americans have never fully understood – but what the Negro can never forget – is that white society is deeply implicated in the ghetto. White institutions created it, white institutions maintain it, and white society condones it.”170 The report declared, “our nation is moving toward two societies, one black, one white – separate and unequal.”171 It continued, “Reaction to last summer's disorders has quickened the movement and deepened the division. Discrimination and segregation have long permeated much of American life; they now threaten the future of every American.”172 This statement may have been prophetic for some but for those living in Baltimore, the intimate relationship between race and residential segregation was a long forgone conclusion. By the late 1960s Baltimore had long ago begun to feel the impacts of residential segregation. Black neighborhoods were severely overcrowded, high rates of unemployment and poverty followed. Black leaders voiced their grievances about conditions in black neighborhoods. Floyd McKissick, the leader of CORE in the mid 1960s, explained, “We tried to warn the nation about the problems of the cities but they didn’t heed it.”173 Around the time of the riots CORE began changing its mission from integrationist to separatist, focusing on building up the black community by supporting black businesses in the ghetto, for example McKissick explained, “lately… the cry for 71 ‘black power’ has become one for ‘black control’ of ghetto areas and institutions.”174 CORE’s message mirrored the desires of many black residents in Baltimore’s ghettos. Demands to eliminate discrimination and exploitation by merchants, requests for more vigorous protection by city agencies came alongside requests for public health and housing code enforcement.175 The list of complaints continued: high prices and lower quality foods than in middle-class white neighborhoods, exorbitant and deceptive credit practices, inflated prices for liquor and appliances (commonly around 33% above suburban prices), sale of used goods for new, evasion of warranties, fees for cashing checks, refusal by banks to cash welfare checks, dishonest increasing of rents or withholding of rent deposits, failure to make repairs in rental units, lack of proper heating or plumbing. With such blatant disproportionate distribution of resources, services and amenities in black ghettos, it is no wonder black residents did not respond earlier. After the riots the Maryland Crime Investigating Commission issued a report detailing the disturbances and postulating the conditions that bred the civil disorder. The commission cited ignorance, apathy, discrimination, slums, poverty, disease and lack of opportunity for decent jobs as causes of the riots.176 For Baltimore, the events of the mid 1960s merely offered the black community a catalyst for expressing their mounting complaints. The Kerner Commission’s report on the national civil disturbances hinged on two related social movements: first, the migration of African Americans from the rural South to the urban North and second, the subsequent departure of whites from Northern cities to suburban enclaves. The report explained, “Almost all Negro population growth (98 percent from 1950 to 1966) is occurring within metropolitan areas, primarily within central cities. The vast majority of white population growth (78 percent from 1960 to 72 1966) is occurring in suburban portions of metropolitan areas. Since 1960, white central- city population has declined by 1.3 million.”177 This national phenomenon was mirrored in the case of Baltimore. Beginning in 1950 the population of white residents was steadily declining. By 1970 the amount of black and white residents in Baltimore was almost equal, a telling statistic considering up until 1940 white residents outnumbered black residents 4:1(See Appendix 24). The commission attributed the creation and maintenance of black inner cities surrounded by rings of white suburbia to white institutions. The Kerner Commission report accurately forecast the effects of these social movements on urban housing. The report anticipated decreased housing opportunities flowing from increased racial segregation. It observed, “Discrimination prevents access to many non-slum areas, particularly the suburbs, and has a detrimental effect on ghetto housing itself. By restricting the area open to a growing population, housing discrimination makes it profitable for landlords to break up ghetto apartments for denser occupancy, hastening housing deterioration.”178 Thus, the Kerner Commission was both predicting characteristics of urban housing in the future and reiterating patterns that existed since the beginning of the twentieth century. The report urged measures to put a stop to de-facto segregation. But if these policies were enforced by the state how could they be called “de-facto”? The case of Baltimore speaks to the inadequacy of such facial distinctions as the federal government and local agencies created and endorsed segregation policies well into the 1970s. The Kerner Commission recommended re-investment in the inner cities, adequate housing, as well as employment and recruitment of blacks in the media. The commission outlined the 73 “Integration Choice” strategy in the framework of employment, education and housing. The Commission’s strategy for housing was two-fold: First, it called for “a comprehensive and enforceable federal open housing law to cover the sale or rental of all housing, including single family homes.”179 To implement the law, the Commission advised, “voluntary community action” to increase awareness about suburban housing opportunities to urban minorities and to educate suburban communities about “the desirability of open housing.”180 Second, the Commission urged an expansion of federal housing programs that would create more low- and moderate-income units in suburban areas, thus adding six million units to the federal low-income housing inventory by 1973.181 Despite the report’s comprehensive and accurate assessment of the issues plaguing black inner city residents, the government did not pursue any of the recommended solutions. Within a month after the Commission issued its report President Johnson renounced a second Presidential term leading the way for Republican candidate Richard Nixon to take office. During the years of his presidency the urban and poverty programs of President Johnson’s administration gradually lost momentum and faded into the history books. In Baltimore, the initial reaction to King’s assassination was calm and the eve of King’s assassination passed without incident. On Friday images of burning cities flashed across televisions screens day and night. When the national rise in riots swept over Baltimore, city officials to signed into action their plan for handling civil disorder known as “Operation Oscar”.182 The Civil Defense agency developed Operation Oscar for coordinating police, fire, transit, and health and welfare departments with private 74 agencies like the Red Cross. On the same day Governor Agnew ordered the Maryland National Guard on alert as a precautionary measure. Later that afternoon two fire bombing incidents were reported to the police and at midnight the state police were put on alert. Some believe it was Governor Agnew’s address to Baltimore on Saturday morning that spurred the civil disobedience. Gregory Kane, sixteen at the time of the riots commented, “King was assassinated on a Thursday. That Saturday, when things were still calm here in Baltimore, Agnew went on the air for a special announcement. I knew immediately what he was going to say. ‘Don't do it, guv,’ I pleaded. ‘Just don't do it.’ But he did, complimenting Baltimore's black community on our ‘good behavior.’ As if being commended for being ‘good Negroes’ was what we wanted to hear at just that moment. It wasn't.”183 Whether it was because of Governor Agnew’s words, or years of built up tension and frustration, the riots began later that day. On Saturday afternoon word reached City Hall that people were distributing pamphlets along Gay Street demanding that business close in honor of Dr. King. Similar demands had preceded Washington’s riot. Civil Disobedience struck Baltimore City at 5:30 pm on April 6, 1968 when the first rock was thrown on Gay Street.184 The rioting began in East Baltimore and spread westward over the next three days (see Appendix 22). A crowd of young black men was rushing through the Gay Street area of East Baltimore and broke a store window. R.B. Jones recalled, “…All hell broke loose. They started looting stores, going north along Gay Street. The first fire started at the Lewis Furniture store on Gay Street.”185 Shortly thereafter the police became flooded with reports of window smashing. An hour after the first incident a looting was reported at a cleaning store on Gay Street followed by a fire at 75 a paint store on the same street. Police officers, many wearing riot helmets, arrived on the scene and attempted to disperse the crowds by driving slowly into the group of boys. At 8pm on Friday Governor Agnew declared a state of emergency as a precautionary measure. Mayor Thomas J. D’Alesandro III believed the assassination of Martin Luther King caused the city to explode, “I don’t think that a large segment of the population knew how bad it was in those [black] neighborhoods, how deep the problems were. Jobs, housing, all the essentials for life were missing down there…”186 The Mayor’s description of the black communities as “down there” illustrates white Baltimore’s perception of the black ghettos as another world. Reports of looting and fires from Gay Street and from neighborhoods in West Baltimore continued late into the night. One Baltimore Reporter recalled driving up to East North Avenue where several buildings were already ablaze, “I saw kids racing along the sidewalk and carrying burning torches. We turned south on Harford Road, where a big dry cleaning plant was already in ruins. No police or firemen were in sight. All this in daylight.”187 The first death occurred at 10pm on Saturday April 6th when a suspected looter was shot by…. The National Guard was called into East Baltimore and a curfew was imposed on the entire city at 10pm. Liquor sales were banned and gasoline sales were restricted. By midnight thousands of guardsmen and hundreds of police officers patrolled the streets. General George Gelston, Adjutant of the National Guard declared the situation to be under control. The curfew was lifted at 6am on Sunday morning only to be followed by more lootings and fires across the city including the first major riot-related fire in West 76 Baltimore. In the early afternoon police barricaded the main downtown business and shopping area. Like housing policy in Baltimore City, the police approach was to fortify white spaces and contain black ones. Crowds of young black males were charging through the streets of East and West Baltimore leaving a path of destruction in their wake. Fires, looting, stoning of policemen and police cars as well as sniping increased throughout the day. At 4pm on Sunday the curfew was reestablished and at 6pm Governor Agnew requested the aid of Federal troops. Almost 5,000 soldiers arrived at 10:30pm on Sunday night adding to the 5,700 National Guardsmen already present. The destruction continued through Monday and Tuesday but remained restricted to black ghetto neighborhoods in east and west Baltimore. Census data shows that the concentration of violence was located in predominantly black neighborhoods across Baltimore City (see Appendix 23). Police broke up a confrontation between white and black crowds on Monday and by Wednesday the violence subsided. By Friday the curfew and liquor bans were lifted and the Federal troops and National Guard left. Governor Agnew declared the state of emergency ended on 10am Sunday, April 14. The final toll tallied 6 killed, 600 injured, 1200 fires, 1100 businesses damaged by fires, vandalism and/or looting and property damages were estimated between $8 and $13.5 million.188 Melvin Williams, who became infamous as a Baltimore drug kingpin, witnessed the riots of 1968. Williams observed that most of the black businesses on Baltimore’s west side remained untouched but businesses belonging to whites were looted and burned.189 The report issued by the Maryland Crime Investigating Commission on the riots came to the same conclusion as Melvin Williams. The Commission found that burning and looting were purposely restricted to black ghettos and that the riot was 77 tightly organized and precisely executed. The Commission purported that the black militants were not trying to start a race riot but instead were “trying to establish machinery whereby the Negroes were run their own neighborhood stores. The first phase of the plan was to burn out the white merchants.”190 This report is consistent with the idea that in Baltimore Martin Luther King’s assassination provided the needed catalyst for the black community to air their grievances and route out the negative white influence over black neighborhoods. In a report issued by the American Friends Service Committee on the Baltimore civil disorders, author Jane Motz concluded, “The Baltimore story is not one of black against black. It is an expression of black people’s anger at the instruments and symbols of white exploitation and oppression.”191 Thus, the riots were not intended as acts of aggression against whites, but rather to take control away from white store and business owners in their own communities. Thomas A. Ward, a retired Circuit Court Judge, recalled, “vengeance was being directed against the physical symbols of white control, no matter if they were the local grocery store or coin laundry, or the apartment whose landlord wouldn’t fix the leaky roof. A passing white person was not the enemy.”192 White Baltimoreans walked through the streets without consequence. Baltimore was spared the high toll of lost lives and civic guilt and anger that were experienced by Newark and Detroit because law enforcement officers were under strict orders to refrain from use of their guns. National Guardsmen carried live ammunition but their rifles were unloaded. Troops were instructed only to shoot if fired on and then only on orders of an officer or if the target was unmistakably a sniper and there was no danger of bystanders being involved. In later reports General Gelston claimed that only one Guardsman fired one round of ammunition over the head of a suspected looter. 78  Though most of the actions to deal with Baltimore’s troubles were directed at the black population, some efforts were made to work with the black community. Black and white groups tried to head off the trouble by holding memorial services and marches to facilitate conversation and airing out of emotions in a non-violent manner.193 When trouble began on Saturday, leaders of several activist groups like CORE, the Civic Interest Group (CIG) and the Union for Jobs or Income Now (U-JOIN) took to the streets to redirect the outburst and minimize damage. Some representatives of the Baltimore government such as the head of the Community Relations Committee and representatives from the Mayors office also attempted to minimize the damage as it happened.194 The official attitude towards black activists was mixed. Mayor D’Alesandro contacted the CIG for help on Saturday while General Gelston tried to communicate openly with young black militants, some of whom were members of groups like CORE and others who were just black ghetto residents. Both the Mayor and the General issued passes to militant leaders permitting them to be on the strees after curfew. However once federal troops took over these passes were not recognized. An afternoon peace meeting, which had been authorized by Baltimore City Police, was broken up by troops wearing gas masks. On the whole efforts to assuage or redirect violent anger were uncoordinated and ineffective.195 Days after the riots Governor Spiro T. Agnew met with a selected group of Baltimore civil rights leaders in an attempt to create a dialogue between the government and local authorities. Instead, however, the purpose of Governor Agnew’s speech seemed to be accusation,“…you know who the fires burned out just as you know who lit the fires. They were not lit in honor of your great leader. Nor were they lit from an overwhelming 79 sense of frustration and despair. Those fires were kindled at the suggestion and with the instruction of the advocates of violence.”196 In his speech Governor Agnew suggested that black power activist Stokely Carmichael had planted the seeds of civil disobedience in the minds of local civil rights leaders. “It is no mere coincidence,” Governor Agnew said, “that a national disciple of violence, Mr. Stokely Carmichael, was observed meeting with local black power advocates and known criminals in Baltimore on April 3, 1968 – three days before the Baltimore riots began.”197 This accusation was met with fierce opposition and defense. Walter Lively, director of the Baltimore Urban Coalition and head of U-JOIN commented, “Governor Agnew is trying to find a scapegoat… instead of facing the fact that the problems existed before and helped ferment the energies that caused the disturbance.”198 In addition to accusing Stokely Carmichael Governor Agnew made a mockery of the Kerner Commissions pointed conclusions stating, “If our nation is not to move toward two separate societies – one white and one black – you have an obligation too… I call upon you to publicly repudiate, condemn and reject all black racists.”199 The Governor’s conclusion shows his misunderstanding of the matter at hand and misdirected blame. A black minister from Douglas Memorial Church commented on Governor Agnew’s racist statements saying, “…we found that the governor’s apparent intent was to divide the black community… Agnew’s actions are more in keeping with the slave system of a bygone era.” The minister also berated the governor for refusing to meet with students of Bowie College to resolve problems at their school and for refusing to close State offices to honor the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King. Walter Lively, director of U-JOIN, spoke on behalf of Baltimore’s black community explaining, “the actions of the last 80 several days clearly indicate that an overwhelming portion of the black community of this city do not want the white man to continue his economic colonization of our people.”200 It is clear that Governor Agnew’s attempt to create an open dialogue between Baltimore civil rights leaders failed. Instead his views reflected a failure on the part of white city officials to understand the issues facing the black community in Baltimore. Baltimore’s official response to the riots was relatively weak. City banks agreed to cash welfare checks without charge and to extend their hours. Inspection agencies became more diligent in checking practices of merchants in the ghetto. Some efforts were made to confront the issues raised through the riots. On Sunday April 14 religious leaders in Baltimore led a “Procession of Penance” as a confession of shared guilt for white racism and a pledge of support for the ideals of Martin Luther King. A month later two seminars were held at Loyola College to explore the racial crisis in Baltimore. A series of meetings under the title “what color is power?” was sponsored by eight white upper middle class churches in North Baltimore.201 More than forty years after the riots, empty lots, abandoned store fronts, and vacant homes encompass Baltimore’s downtown as a result of the 1968 riots. Despite the obvious reminders of the riots, many Baltimoreans still do not connect the disinvestment in the inner city and lack of small businesses to the decisions Baltimore families and local officials made as a result of the riots; whereby redevelopment continued the legacy of racial segregation and black community neglect. It is difficult to draw concrete conclusions on the effects of the riots for the urban and geophysical landscape of Baltimore City. Though initial response to the riots was decline and despair, it was soon followed by a period of rebirth. More public health and 81 social services, new schools, more subsidized housing, increased public and private employment of blacks and increased political representations are among the positive outcomes of the riots of 1968. However, there were negative repercussions of the riots as well. More and more citizens, white and black, withdrew to the outskirts of the city as the poverty, crime and social ills associated with the black ghetto spread across the city. Even ten years after, one Sun reporter concluded that the riots “aroused fears which have only partially diminished [ten years later],” citing an increased unemployment rate, increased dependency on public welfare, and difficulty emerging from the hold of the black ghetto.202 The Baltimore Sun reflected on changes within Baltimore City. “Many of the inner city areas hit hardest by the rioting had been scheduled for slum clearance… the realization of urban renewal plans in the intervening years has transformed large areas of the inner city.”203 The most dramatic changes took place in West Baltimore along Pennsylvania Avenue. Dingy bars and over 1,300 rapidly deteriorating dwellings were razed and replaced with 1,360 new dwelling units. Additional public facilities such as schools, health centers, parks, recreation and community centers were built for both black and white residents who moved into the newly rehabilitated Pennsylvania Avenue. None of the new construction following the riots of 1968, however, was meant to be low-income housing. Purchasing a new home constructed in urban renewal areas cost as much as $29,000 while rents ranged from $150 for a one-bedroom apartment to $350 for a four-bedroom townhouse. This resulted in the permanent displacement of many poor people who once lived in the urban renewal areas because prices of new homes were not equivalent to previous home values and thus excluded the old neighborhood residents.204 In 1978 one in four Baltimore families were estimated to be living in 82 substandard housing with 12,000 families on the waiting list for public housing. Almost every black neighborhood was cited as having been affected by the displacement of over 9,700 families by urban renewal and expressway projects. A black Howard Park businessman explained, “if you tear down one slum, all you do is create another slum. That’s what’s happening around here...”205 Throughout Baltimore slums were destroyed to make way for new construction. Because homes were not built for displaced black residents they were again forced to crowd together in areas with already high black concentration. Again, overcrowding and poverty bred social ills in black ghettos. Slum clearance, even under the agenda of urban renewal, did not solve the problem of blight and slum conditions – it merely moved it from one black neighborhood to another. In the 1960s Baltimore City officials made plans to extend Route I-70 in Baltimore and connect it with the nearby Baltimore Beltway. Plans were to extend the highway across the harbor with a sixteen-lane bridge in order to connect it with I-95.206 The East-West Expressway would lead through Leakin Park and many other historic and predominantly black neighborhoods. Construction began in West Baltimore destroying a 20 blocks of houses and communities along Franklin and Mulberry Streets displacing thousands of families. Plans were halted in the early 1970s when activists protested the imminent destruction of historic districts like Federal Hill, along the inner harbor, and Fells Point. Only now, forty years later, are plans being proposed to demolish the “Highway to Nowhere”. The Highway to Nowhere represents the destruction of a stable black community for an abandoned urban renewal project. In writing for the Baltimore Sun Kelly Jaques remarked, “In many ways, the highway plans and the riots were linked. To the people who lived in the neighborhoods slated for clearance, the expressway 83 proposals made it clear their homes and schools and luncheonettes and grocery stores were less important than an exit ramp. Public policy declared over and over again that Baltimore's black neighborhoods were disposable; in 1968 rioters treated them accordingly,”207 In Baltimore, alongside other racially contentious urban contexts, “urban renewal” was interchangeable with “urban removal”. As with previous segregationist agendas, urban renewal projects had no qualms about destroying black communities to make way for “improvements” that would maintain or increase the land values of white spaces while being primarily used by white residents. Fifteen years after the riots the Baltimore Sun published an article highlighting the surge in construction following the riots. Pennsylvania Avenue, once a main street of black West Baltimore, was badly torched but later the lower portion was replaced by new housing for the elderly, churches and community centers. On the East Side of Baltimore, Gay Street was resurrected as the Oldtown Mall, a two block pedestrian shopping mall, and a new location for public housing. While the riots changed the physical landscape of many streets of Baltimore, they also sped up the process of white flight. Before the riots, two sears stores were the retail centers of black Baltimore with white consumers utilizing the shopping centers as well. After the riots, however, white shoppers and some retailers abandoned Howard Street for the suburbs. The riots helped speed commercial flight from black America. The Baltimore Bullets basketball team fled Baltimore to suburban Washington. Mayor Thomas J. D’Alesandro III, once cheerful at the prospect of his position, became anxious to see his position end. The Sun credited Mayor William Donald Schaefer, Baltimore’s hometown boy, for guiding Baltimore back to a place of optimism and hope after the riots. After taking 84 office in 1971, Mayor Schaefer was credited for the expansion and revitalization of the Inner Harbor, bringing the Blast soccer team to Baltimore and reopening some of the city’s historic theaters. However, fifteen years after the riots much of the physical damage blended into pre-existing decay. Declining black ghettos, the primary sites of the riots, were often condemned to further deterioration as urban renewal agendas again focused only on those areas in between white and black neighborhoods. Baltimore of 1983 boasted an integrated workplace though a still largely segregated residence.208 Development of the inner harbor came on the heels of the riots. At the turn of the twentieth century Baltimore’s inner harbor was a bustling center. A center of commerce and industry, merchants lined the piers selling their wares and department stores for whites encircled the water (See Appendix 29). The harbor was home to many large shipping companies that were the chief employers of newly migrated black residents. Thus, the area immediately surrounding the harbor was home to many blacks in the years leading up to the turn of the century. Blacks lived in historical “alley houses” which were characterized by their narrow size and close proximity. After the Baltimore Fire in 1904 however, much of downtown, including the inner harbor, was decimated. What used to be a bustling center where merchants, businessmen, and black migrants came to work became home to rats and rotting piers. The dingy inner harbor waterfront, once the vibrant center of Baltimore, stood as a deserted reminder of what downtown Baltimore once was. After the fire, Baltimore’s shipping industry moved to Locust Point southwest of the inner harbor and towards Dundalk in southeast Baltimore. While businesses and industry left downtown Baltimore, blacks were largely restricted to the now slowly deteriorating alley houses. Black residents crowded together in the small row houses 85 surrounding the harbor in conditions that bred disease. “Blight” was soon characterized in racial terms, as the city’s worst slum conditions were located surrounding the inner harbor where most black residents lived. By the 1920s and 1930s these areas were slated for slum clearance as Baltimore City officials sought means to remove blight and force the black population outward. In 1921 Mayor Broening appointed seven members, both city officials and private citizens, to the Baltimore Zoning Commission. The Commission was charged with the duty of preparing a comprehensive zoning plan for Baltimore. By placing the downtown central business district surrounding the inner harbor within the First Commercial District category, planners secured the region’s commercial future. Furthermore, the Mayor, City Council and Zoning Board were given broad power to make choices determining the use of the zoned areas adding a political dimension to zoning.209 By zoning the inner harbor area as commercial and covering black spaces in restrictive covenants, a buffer was created between the harbor and surrounding Black residences. Segregation ordinances and restrictive covenants barred blacks from housing opportunity forcing them again to crowd together in sections of the city that were already predominantly black. But even once blacks moved away from the inner harbor, the waterfront remained a ghost town until the urban renewal agenda of the 1950s and 1960s prompted planners to rebuild the deteriorating harbor. After World War II Baltimore’s central business district suffered from a $50 million decline in the value of downtown property.210 The city’s business community banned together and created a Committee for Downtown to raise private funds for the preparation of a master plan that would be the basis for reversing the decline. The task 86 was handed down to the Planning Council of the Greater Baltimore Committee. Halfway through planning, however, the business leaders concluded that their original plan to revitalize the entire 300-acre business district might be too ambitious so they downsized and focused the project on 22 acres. This plan developed into the $140 million Charles Center Project.211 Mayor Thomas D’Alesandro, Jr. acquired a $25 million city bond issue and helped push through the urban renewal ordinance needed to issue power of eminent domain to begin the project. Though Baltimore could not find the funds to build housing for displaced residents subjected to slum clearance as a part of urban renewal, Mayor D’Alesandro had no problem acquiring public funds to revitalize and rebuild an area meant to attract white upper class consumers and residents. The cornerstone of the project, One Charles Center, was designed by Mies van der Rohe and completed in 1962.212 By 1963 three more structures were completed and six were in the planning stages including two office buildings, a hotel, department store, theater and underground garage. The speed and success of the Charles Center Project inspired the public and private sector to take on redevelopment of the downtown waterfront. Mayor Theodore R. McKeldin set the plan for waterfront redevelopment in motion. The plan had three facets: first, a row of office buildings along Pratt Street facing the waterfront, second, multifamily housing along the eastern and western edges of the waterfront, and third, in the center, a public playground for Baltimoreans along the shoreline of the Inner Harbor (See Appendix 30). One third of the planning area would be razed and rebuilt and the remaining two thirds, including city hall and the financial district, would be rehabilitated.213 87  Under Title I of the Housing Act of 1949 Baltimore officials leveled all of Baltimore’s downtown high-rise public housing to make way for inner harbor development. Five thousand housing units were demolished. Under Title I urban renewal projects that eliminated residential structures had to compensate by creating new residences on a 1:1 ratio with the eliminated structures. However, this provision was rarely followed and no regulations stipulated that low-income housing had to be replaced with similarly priced alternatives. In downtown Baltimore public housing units were replaced by 3,200 luxury high-rise and townhouse units. Thus by the 1960s, the urban renewal agenda in Baltimore became identified with socio-economic status as redevelopment was catered to the upper class. Those displaced by the development of the inner harbor were forced to find alternatives in poor neighborhoods with high concentrations of vacancy and crime.214 Developers projected the timeline of the project to last thirty years but it was ultimately accomplished in twenty. In 1969 work began on attracting businesses to the office buildings that would be built on Pratt Street. USF&G insurance, a native company of Baltimore, was the first to step forward with a proposal to build a 36-story tower at the focal point of the Inner Harbor – the intersection of Pratt and Light streets. IBM, the Federal Reserve Bank, the C&P Telephone Company, Equitable Trust Bank and the Federal Courts soon followed suit.215 Three years later the Maryland board of public works approved the construction of a 28-story World Trade Center. In 1972 Mayer William Donald Schaefer came into office and took over the Inner Harbor redevelopment plan. By this time, previous urban renewal plans aimed at inner city development were abandoned. City officials believed inner harbor redevelopment, 88 which was meant to attract white consumers and eventually upper class white residence, was more important. Building an attractive inner harbor would stimulate commerce and industry thus, creating an epicenter of white consumption and residence. This end had the added benefit of pushing black ghetto neighborhoods to the east and west of the center of the city. By 1973 work began on the public park that was to overlook the harbor. The shoreline around the Inner Harbor basin was rebuilt, the streets were redesigned as wide boulevards, and a multi lane highway was built outward from inner harbor connecting to I-95 thereby enclosing historic Federal Hill and limiting foot traffic from neighborhoods to the southwest of the inner harbor. A 35-foot-wide promenade was also added to the water’s edge. This promenade not only served to designate the harbor as a recreational space, but also created a border between the gentrified inner harbor and the black neighborhoods that surrounded it. Only the second facet of the plan, housing, had not been realized by the 1970s. The city’s Department of Housing and Community Development (HCD) adopted a new “homesteading” program for the Otterbein neighborhood to the west of the Inner Harbor. Through this program the HCD offered dilapidated row houses for $1 each to local residents who would agree to restore and live in them. The 150 units were renovated for an average of $50,000 each in borrowed funding based on credit rating. Black residents were inherently excluded from this deal because it was not announced publicly.216 Through this program Otterbein became one of the trendier neighborhoods in downtown Baltimore, home to artists, musicians and performers. In 1975 construction of the Maryland Science Center was underway with plans to build an aquarium and convention center. Between 1979 and 1981 four major attractions 89 were completed along the Inner Harbor: the Baltimore Convention Center was completed in 1979, the National Aquarium in Baltimore opened in 1981, the Hyatt Regency opened in 1981 and finally the festival marketplace known as Harborplace, built by world- famous Baltimore developer James Rouse, opened in the Inner Harbor on July 4, 1980.217 The opening of James Rouse’s harbor pavilion in 1980 marked the beginning of gentrification in southwest Baltimore. Development of the Inner Harbor continues to this day. As of 2000 more than 60 new projects were built or rehabilitated: 15 office buildings, 12 hotels, ten museums and 17 other attractions plus a subway station have been built in the last ten years. The Inner Harbor project also continues to stretch its boundaries beyond the waterfront. To the North Rouse Company added a 1.2 million square foot mixed use Gallery project, to the South the American Visionary Art Museum and to the west Oriole Park at Camden Yards has extended the pedestrian area that the Inner Harbor has become.218 Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, once considered home to blight, disease and poverty, now houses world-class attractions and serves as a revitalized and rehabilitated urban center. The alley houses, once thought only suitable for black residence, now sell for upwards of two million dollars. Inner harbor revitalization has expanded towards immigrant neighborhoods of east Baltimore, displacing residents in favor of trendy apartment buildings inhabited by post-college graduates. The riots of 1968 marked the beginning of late twentieth century urban renewal projects across Baltimore City. Development of the waterfront and downtown Baltimore began to bring white residents back into downtown and initiated a larger movement of gentrification in the city. 90  As Baltimore officials continue to build on the success of the inner harbor revitalization projects that began in the 1970s, more and more residents are being displaced to make way for commercial and residential redevelopment meant to attract upper class white residents. I-83 once trickled into downtown Baltimore with a view of an abandoned waterfront composed of old warehouses and abandoned row houses in the 1990s. Today, entering the city from the suburbs one is greeted by a magnificent gold fountain surrounded by Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion, a Marriot Courtyard Hotel and a large Whole Foods Market. Boutiques and loft apartments surround the waterfront serving as a reminder that the Baltimore planning agenda will always favor the white or at least relatively affluent consumer. Former residents of the new waterfront redevelopment have again been pushed out of downtown Baltimore into East and West Baltimore. Today, one can see a pocket of white residence surrounding the inner harbor and waterfront to the east with densely populated black neighborhoods encircling downtown Baltimore. 91  Chapter 5 Under the Wire: Mapping the History of Residential Segregation Baltimore On the surface Baltimore appears to be just another large, decaying Eastern city, having experienced population decline, out migration of commerce and industry, an expanding black minority, rise in social problems, and general deterioration. Many would assume a cause and effect connection between Baltimore’s simultaneous black in- migration and white flight. However this explanation, combined with Baltimore’s national image in popular culture, has done a disservice to the complex history of Baltimore’s past. Underneath images of the most visible social ills known for destroying America’s cities, Baltimore City has played host to and been shaped by a much more enduring and many times legal vice: segregation. Close examination reveals that Baltimore’s narrative is more than just symbolic of the decline of American cities; Baltimore’s story reflects racial investment and divestment policies with the intent of shaping Baltimore into a racially segregated city. The urban landscape of Baltimore is a history book, a readable narrative of the gradual creation of a segregated city. The result of a one hundred year long residential segregation agenda can be seen in census maps depicting the changing racial dispersion across Baltimore City. Today, Baltimore is defined by two islands of densely populated black residence in East and West Baltimore divided and surrounded by white settlement. The two Baltimore’s that exist in 2010, one white and one black, are a result of racially motivated policies and practices that began with the segregation ordinances of 1910. 92  In 1910 Baltimore was predominantly white. Of the city’s half-a-million residents only 15% were black. Black residents were concentrated in the downtown business district near shipyards and docks where most black Baltimore residents worked at the turn of the century while and white residents formed a ring around them. In the last hundred years Baltimore’s population demographic has changed dramatically and the white ring has returned. In 2010 Baltimore’s population totaled 637,418. Of that number, 33% of city residents are white and 67% of residents are black. This dramatic change in the composition of the city’s population reflects the persistent imposition of measures to segregate the city based on race. Though residential segregation began with the first segregation ordinances to be seen in the United States in 1910, the city government and residents enacted residential segregation through public and private action over the last one hundred years. Although black residents only made up 15% of Baltimore’s total population of 558,485 in 1910, (See Appendix 24) whites residents alleged an “encroachment” of black residents into predominantly white neighborhoods. The first recorded attempt by a black family to move into a predominantly white neighborhood prompted private citizens to pressure local Baltimore officials to impose restrictions on the proximity of black residence to white residence. The introduction of residential segregation ordinances in 1910 helps explain a future of residential isolation and confinement for black residents of Baltimore City. Once the Supreme Court struck down residential segregation ordinances in 1917, restrictive covenants became a new instrument of racial separation. White residents sought protection from black intrusion through deeds that barred blacks from buying or 93 occupying real estate in a prescribed block or multi-block radius. In 1925, Carl and Matilda Schoenrodt filed a covenant along with twenty-six homeowners on their agreeing that: “None of the said respective properties nor any part of them shall at any time be occupied or used by or conveyed, mortgaged, leased, rented or given to any Negro or to any person or persons in whole or in part of Negro or African descent. Persons of negro or African descent may be employed as servants by any of the owners or occupant of said respective property and whilst so employed may reside in said premises as servants as long as the premises are occupied by their respective employers.”219 The covenant above protected Appleton Street, to the west of Fulton Street, which in 1940 census maps is clearly inhabited by white residents (See Appendix 9). In Maryland, a Court of Appeals ruling in 1938 against a black man who had moved to a white Baltimore block a year earlier strengthened enforcement of restrictive covenants. The house was within a twenty-four-square block area that white residents had protected by a covenant written in 1926. The legality of restrictive covenants was upheld until 1948. In Maryland, racially restrictive covenants were used across the city but West Baltimore, at the border of Fulton Street, and North Baltimore were subject to covenants in particular. Edward Bouton built Roland Park in North Baltimore, under a restrictive covenant with the intent of creating Baltimore’s first elite, white, and upper class neighborhood. By 1930 black citizens made up almost 20% of Baltimore’s 804,874 city residents yet there were confined to only 2% of the city’s land area. In 1933 Baltimore’s HOLC office opened with 14 white men as part of the Home Owners’ Refinancing Act introduced as part of New Deal legislation by President Roosevelt.220 The HOLC was charged with assessing neighborhoods and dividing them into real estate risk categories, adding a cartographic dimension to the pathology of race in America and residential 94 segregation. “Redlining,” dictated the current value and future prospects of a neighborhood based on categories including the racial composition of the area. As one might imagine, neighborhoods that were predominantly black received the lowest rating and were marked in red (hence the term “redlining”). Comparing the 1940s census tract map to the redlining map issued by Baltimore’s HOLC one sees a clear correspondence to race: the ring surrounding downtown is shaded red and surrounded by yellow (the second worst rating a neighborhood could be given) (See Appendix 1). The Census tract map similarly shows a concentration of black residents surrounding downtown to both the east and west of the central business district near the waterfront. The more favorable neighborhoods as noted by the HOLC’s map extended to the northwest and northeast of the city where we can see, when comparing the 1940s census map, less than 5% of the residents were white or black (See Appendix 9). In 1940 Baltimore’s population swelled to 859,100 composed of 692,705 white residents and 166,395 black residents. Although whites still outnumbered blacks 81% to 19% the number of black residents was steadily increasing (See Appendix 24). Census maps showing racial dispersion across the city illustrate two distinct islands of black residence: one on the east side of downtown and one on the west side of downtown (See Appendix 9). Today, these two islands have become a defining characteristic of Baltimore’s identity. Black residents in East Baltimore were bounded to the north and south by North Avenue and Fleet Street and to the east and west by Wolfe Street and Gay Street. Black residences in West Baltimore were bounded by Fulton Ave to the East, North Ave, Pratt Street and Gay Street. By 1940 the area surrounding the downtown business district and inner harbor was more than 30% black according to census data. 95 Although black residents occupied large sections of downtown Baltimore in the 1940’s one can see from the maps that a dividing line runs down the center of the city along Calvert and Gay Streets. This line, which is still visible in census maps of 2010, relegated black residents to either side of the central business district. The 1940s brought the first construction of low-income housing projects to Baltimore City. Early site selection criteria required builders to respect the racial make- up of a neighborhood when determining where a project was to be built, resulting in a reinforcement of existing racial residence patterns. The first low-income projects built in Baltimore was Edgar Allen Poe Homes designated for black residents and located deep in the heart of West Baltimore. Latrobe Homes, was located just north of downtown and was designated for white use, while McCulloh and Douglass Homes were built for black residents and located in West Baltimore and north of the harbor respectively. Perkins, Fairfield, Brooklyn, Westport, and Gilmor Homes were built 1942, while O’Donnell Heights, Somerset Courts were built in 1943 and finally Cherry Hill Homes was built in 1945 (See Appendix 32).221 As the Fair Housing Act was not passed until 1949, Baltimore housing officials were able to designate projects for all white or black occupancy. The first housing projects in Baltimore City were built on areas slated for slum clearance to make way for new construction. Black citizens were displaced as a result of slum clearance projects while new projects provided homes for only a fraction of the displaced black homeowners. Thus, black residents were again forced to crowd together perpetuating slum conditions that Baltimore City officials attempted to assuage through slum clearance projects. 96  Ever since the 1910 segregation ordinances the western boundary of black residence was marked by Fulton Street. In 1944 the first black resident broke the boundary moving beyond Fulton Street thus pushing the barrier of black residence westward.222 The Fulton Street barrier was defeated by blockbusters who saw an opportunity to capitalize on white fears of depreciating home values and other social ills they perceived to follow black residence. For the next sixty years black residents would continue to expand westward pushing whites beyond the city limits and out into the county. Maps showing racial composition and population of Baltimore City from 1930- 1970 illustrate the drastic westward expansion of Baltimore’s black population. Once the floodgates of Fulton Street were opened black residents poured into West Baltimore with unprecedented speed.223 Comparing census maps of 1940 to present day estimates one can see the westward expansion of black residents beyond Baltimore City limits (See Appendix 9 and Appendix 16). Furthermore, the 1948 Supreme Court held that racially restrictive covenants were unenforceable thus compelling West Baltimore residents to abolish covenants that had barred black residents from westward expansion. The 1950s brought more black residents into Baltimore City. Baltimore’s total population grew to a record high 949,708 city residents. Of almost 1 million city residents 723,675 were white and 226,053 were black (See Appendix 24). Census maps show black residents crowding around the downtown business district leaving only a pocket of white residences immediately north of the inner harbor. It is no coincidence that these same primarily black residential areas were designated as “blighted” according to the study published by the Baltimore City Housing Authority in 1950 Baltimore’s Blighted Areas (See Appendix 4). Overcrowded dwelling units, substandard sanitation, 97 and high incidences of disease defined blight. These characteristics defined black neighborhoods surrounding downtown but not white neighborhoods. Blacks tended to be confined to second-class homes because the real estate market shaped by restrictive covenants permitted owners to raise the rental price of a home for blacks. Thus, blacks were forced to squeeze more families into a space meant for far fewer people. Whites were able to escape the ailments of black “blighted” areas because the real estate market permitted them to move out overcrowded homes, they had access to better education, and employment opportunities. In contrast, black residents were hemmed into overcrowded neighborhoods by lack of employment opportunities, racist real estate practices and a lack of educational opportunity. Many of the areas outlined in this study were slated for slum clearance and as sites for low-income housing projects. Through the plethora of studies like Baltimore’s Blighted Areas city officials intrinsically labeled “blight” as a racial characteristic. The 1950s and 1960s brought the issue of race and segregation to the forefront of American consciousness with the advent of landmark court decisions like Brown v. Board of Education and the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Though tensions were high in many parts of the country, in Baltimore local civil rights leaders engaged in open dialogue with local city officials. However, Dr. Martin Luther King’s assassination in 1968 sparked rioting across the city. Rioters were predominantly black youths who targeted stores and residences of white Baltimoreans. Maps comparing the locations of rioting incidents and the racial make up of the area show that most incidents occurred in predominantly black neighborhoods across east and west Baltimore (See Appendix 23). Although the riots only lasted three days the impact on Baltimore City was felt for years 98 to come. Though triggered by Dr. King’s assassination tensions regarding inadequate housing, lack of public facilities and social services in black neighborhoods were mounting and came to a head through the riots of 1968. Baltimore’s black population continued to push westward in the 1960s. Unfortunately census tract data is unavailable for this decade and thus corresponding maps could not be created (See Appendix 11 for substitute maps). By 1970 Baltimore’s population had declined by almost 50,000 residents. White residents fled to Baltimore County where taxes were lower, schools were better and blacks were inherently excluded due to higher property costs and racial steering and outright neighborhood discouragement of black residents. Meanwhile the black population of Baltimore City almost doubled in twenty years reaching 425,950 residents of a total 905,759 residents (See Appendix 24). Black residents further stretched the boundaries of their isolation into northeast Baltimore. Black population density increased in the areas immediately surrounding downtown as areas north of downtown gentrified causing housing prices to exclude blacks from the market. In 1980 the composition of Baltimore’s population reached a turning point. Despite perceptions of racial invasion in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s that drove urban policy, Baltimore City did not become majority black until 1980. In 1980 the total population of Baltimore City was 786,775, 43% white and 56% black (See Appendix 24). Despite this shift in the composition of the population, blacks were still relegated to the east and west of downtown Baltimore. According to scholars Douglas Massey and Nancy Denton, by 1980 Baltimore was among sixteen metropolitan regions that were “hypersegregated”.224 Baltimore ranked highest in the areas of centralization (“the extent 99 to which blacks are spatially distributed close to, or far away from, the central business district”) and concentration (“a measure of the relative amount of physical space occupied by blacks within the metropolitan environment”).225 Census maps clearly show this hypersegregation (See Appendix 13). In 1995 African-American public housing residents backed by the American Civil Liberties Union filed a class-action suit against the HUD and the Baltimore City Housing Authority aimed at eliminating alleged racial segregation and discrimination in Baltimore’s public housing units. The residents alleged that the Baltimore City Housing Authority was perpetuating former de jure segregation through racially based assignments of public housing applicants and through their site selection practices.226 The parties agreed to some of the claims raised in the class action suit and an agreement was reached in 1996 in the form of a Consent Decree thus affirming the charge that Baltimore housing officials were in fact basing public housing assignments on race. The Consent Decree imposed many obligations on the Baltimore City Housing Authority that ultimately the Supreme Court found the Authority had not fulfilled. The Baltimore City Housing Authority failed to make available 911 housing units (as opposed to rent vouchers) in areas without high concentrations of minority residents or public housing. When the case reached the Supreme Court in 2005 the Baltimore City Housing Authority had only made 8 units available. Thompson v. HUD was decided in 2005 in favor of the public housing residents and extended the timeline of the Consent Decree. Racial segregation has always existed in Baltimore in a fine-tuned pattern enforced by a combination of legal power, monetary clout and private action. Nineteenth- century street and alley segregation gave way to ghettos in East, West and South 100 Baltimore enforced by Jim Crow laws. As the process of segregation evolved the confusion between poverty, black skin and the inner city became more insistent. Poverty was perceived as criminal, contagious and immoral; the inner city was plagued with tuberculosis, venereal disease and illegitimacy – the common denominator in the white imagination was the black city resident. What was called “the Negro problem” in 1915 evolved into the “urban problem” in the 1960s and today is seen as the safety or even tax base problem. Now at the turn of the twenty-first century “blight”, poverty and social problems in Baltimore are still branded “black”. White residents are warned never to enter the neighborhoods in West Baltimore that are almost 100% black because of the perception that these neighborhoods are breeding grounds for drug abuse and trade, violence and poverty. Unfortunately, some of these characteristics do exist in predominantly black residential areas in Baltimore City. Census maps reflecting population density and median income correspond to areas that are predominantly black (See Appendix 21 and Appendix 17). 30-40% of the residents in areas comprised of 80% or more black residents are living in poverty (See Appendix 20). Further correspondence can be seen between high rates of unemployment, 15% or higher, and black residential areas (See Appendix 19). These conditions are a symptom of residential segregation. They are a manifestation of discrimination, exclusionary location policies of Baltimore officials, and closed doors to housing, employment and community services. Residential segregation, a practice intentionally and strategically implemented by private citizens and local officials, is the common denominator in most of the social issues plaguing Baltimore’s black residents. 101  From 1910 to 2010 Baltimore’s black population increased from 85,098 to 402,721 while the amount of white residents in the city declined from 473,387 to 211,285 (See Appendix 24) This massive demographic shift, accompanied by drastic segregation visible in the landscape of Baltimore City, is reflective of changes and challenges that faced urban cities across the United States in the last hundred years. The creation of the hypersegregated city that Baltimore is today began with residential segregation ordinances in 1910, continued through slum clearance, restrictive covenants, redlining and was confirmed with the site selection practices of Federal Public Housing. Racial segregation subtly continues today within present day efforts at redevelopment. The coordination of local and federal government action, in concert with private choice, allowed local officials to pursue various methods to clear, consolidate and contain Baltimore’s expanding black population. The history of Baltimore’s segregation challenges long held assumptions about the hard line between de jure and de facto segregation. It has been generally assumed that segregation imposed by law, de jure, gives way to segregation that occurs in practice but is not necessarily ordained by law, de facto. However Baltimore’s segregation history contradicts this notion. After the first attempt by the local city council to impose segregation by law was struck down, Baltimore officials found support for segregation from federal policies. Rather than transitioning from government implementation to private action, as has generally been imagined, Baltimore transitioned from segregation imposed by a local body of government to segregation enforced with the help of the federal government. 102  Popular culture has used Baltimore as an icon of the crime, poverty and drugs that plagues urban metropolitan centers across the United States. HBO’s The Wire highlights the negative aspects of Baltimore: rows of vacant houses, a poor public school system and deep-seeded poverty that leads to illegal drug abuse and violent crime. Ironically, or perhaps not, almost all of Baltimore’s flaws are characterized as black. Drug dealers and hit men are black, public school children are black, homeless addicts are black. In fact, the only white characters on the show are politicians, schools teachers, dockworkers and police officers. In five seasons of the show only season two tells a story of white corruption and the story of corruption is told as a consequence of deindustrialization – portside vice is not represented as the cause of industrial decline. Along with a continued examination of black drug trafficking in Baltimore, season two also presents a storyline about corrupt stevedores of the Baltimore port and their part in an international smuggling organization. The Wire’s portrayal of many social vices as black accurately reflects the mindset of many Baltimore citizens and leaders. Furthermore, the portrayal of the city as racially segregated both residentially and in terms of class, is reflective of current conditions in the city. However, the story of Baltimore presented in The Wire, much like the story of the city itself, is a metaphor for the issues and realities facing many American cities. Although The Wire is about Baltimore, the characters and events have their counterparts in other urban areas facing the same problems. Baltimore City demonstrates how residential segregation corresponds to high levels of poverty, unemployment, overcrowding. An idea that began with segregation ordinances in 1910 has grown into the defining, though largely unrecognized, characteristic of a great American city. 103  Endnotes 1 http://www.mdoe.org/Baltocivilwar.html 2 Reid, Ira De A., The Negro Community of Baltimore: A Summary Report of a Social Study Conducted for The Baltimore Urban League through The Department of Research, National Urban League. Baltimore: Ira De A. Reid, 1935. 7. 3 McDougall, Harold A.. Black Baltimore: a new theory of community. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1993. Print. 26. 4 Reid, Ira De A., The Negro Community of Baltimore: A Summary Report of a Social Study Conducted for The Baltimore Urban League through The Department of Research, National Urban League. Baltimore: Ira De A. Reid, 1935. 8. 5 Reid, Ira De A., The Negro Community of Baltimore: A Summary Report of a Social Study Conducted for The Baltimore Urban League through The Department of Research, National Urban League. Baltimore: Ira De A. Reid, 1935. 8. 6 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 7 Reid, Ira De A., The Negro Community of Baltimore: A Summary Report of a Social Study Conducted for The Baltimore Urban League through The Department of Research, National Urban League. Baltimore: Ira De A. Reid, 1935. 8. 8 McDougall, Harold A. Black Baltimore: a new theory of community. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1993. Print. 38. 9 “Baltimore Tries Drastic Plan of Race Segregation: Strange Situation which Led the Oriole City to Adopt the most Pronounced “Jim Crow” Measure on Record. Baltimore Tries Drastic Plan of Race Segregation.” New York Times (1857-1922): SM2. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: The New York Times (1851-2007). 1910. Web. 11 Apr. 2011 <http://search.proquest.com/docview/97075778?accountid=10750>. 10 Ordinance No. 610 11 Boger, Gretchen The Meaning of Neighborhood in the Modern City: Baltimore’s Residential Segregation Ordinances 1910-1913. Baltimore: Journal of Urban History Vol. 34, Num. 2, 2009. 1. 12 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 24. 13 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 14 Power, Garrett. "Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 2. 15 Carol D. Wright, The Slums of Baltimore, Chicago, New York and Philadelphia: Seventh Special Report of the Commissioner of Labor (1894: repr. New York: Arno Press, 1970), 5, 13. 16 Garrett Power, Deconstructing the Slums of Baltimore. Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society, 2002. Print. 48. 17 Garrett Power, Deconstructing the Slums of Baltimor . Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society, 2002. Print. 49. 18 Garrett Power, Deconstructing the Slums of Baltimore. Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society, 2002. Print. 49. 104 19 Carol D. Wright, The Slums of Baltimore, Chicago, New York and Philadelphia: Seventh Special Report of the Commissioner of Labor (1894: repr. New York: Arno Press, 1970), 5, 13. 20 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 3. 21 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 3. 22 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 3. 23 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 3. See also: S Olson Baltimore 233 (1980) 24 See also Olson, Sherry H.. Baltimore, the building of an American city. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980. 233 25 Olson, Sherry H.. Baltimore, the building of an American city. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980. Print. 247. 26 Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 5. 27 Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 12. 28 Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 13. 29 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 4. 30 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 4. 31 Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 16. 32 Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 19. 33 Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 16. 34 Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 18. 35 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 5. 105 36 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print., 5. 37 Power, Garrett. Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 6. 38 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 18. 39 Where the Blight of the Negro is most Seriously Felt in the City. Warren, OH, United States:, 1909. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Baltimore Sun, The (1837-1985). Web. 21 Apr. 2011. 40 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 8 41 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 8 42 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 8 43 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 8. 44 Petition to the Mayor and City Council, Baltimore City Archives, Mahool Files, File 406 (July, 5, 1910) 45 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 14. 46 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 18. 47 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 18. (SEE NOTE AT BACK: The Sun Side Walk Confrontation Sept 8, 1910) 48 Ordinance 610, Approved December 19, 1910, J. Barry Mahool, Mayor 49 Baltimore Tries Drastic Plan of Race Segregation: Strange Situation which Led the Oriole City to Adopt the most Pronounced "Jim Crow" Measure on Record. Baltimore Tries Drastic Plan of Race Segregation. NEW YORK, NY, United States:, 1910. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: The New York Times (1851-2007). Web. 20 Apr. 2011. 50 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 6. 51 Power, Garrett. “Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913.” Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 6. 52 Baltimore Tries Drastic Plan of Race Segregation: Strange Situation which Led the Oriole City to Adopt the most Pronounced "Jim Crow" Measure on Record. Baltimore Tries Drastic Plan of Race Segregation. NEW YORK, NY, United States:, 1910. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: The New York Times (1851-2007). Web. 20 Apr. 2011. 53 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 23 54 Letter from Charles S. Otto to J. Barry Mahool, Baltimore City Archives, Mahool Files, File 506 (Jan. 16, 1911) 106 55 Baltimore, Jan. 14, 1910: A Voice from the South. BALTIMORE, MD, United States:, 1911. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: The Baltimore African-American (1893-1988). Web. 18 Apr. 2011. 56 Power, Garrett. "Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913." Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 7. 57 Power, Garrett. "Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913." Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): 18. Print. 8. 58 Still Seek Segregation.: Baltimore Councilmen Send New Race Ordinance to Committee. Washington, DC, United States:, 1911. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: The Washington Post (1877-1993). Web. 18 Apr. 2011. 59 Ordinance 692, Approved May 15, 1911, J. Barry Mahool 60 State v. Gurry, 121 Md. 534, 539, 88 A. 546, 548 art. 550-551, 88 A. at 553 (1913) 61 Ordinance 339, Approved September 25, 1913, J. Barry Mahool 62 Preston, What Can Be Done to Improve the Living Conditions of Baltimore’s Negro Population? 5. Baltimore MUN. J. 1, 1 (March 16, 1917) 63 H.L. Mencken, 1 the Free Lance 137 (1911-1915) (unpublished collection found in Mencken Room, Enoch Pratt Free Library, Baltimore). 64 Preston, What Can Be Done to Improve the Living Conditions of Baltimore’s Negro Population? 5. Baltimore MUN. J. 1, 1 (March 16, 1917) 65 U.S. Children’s Bureau, Report on Conditions Affecting Baltimore Negroes 32, R.G. 102, Boxes 120-21, National Archives (1923) (Bureau Publication 119, part of a study of infant mortality in Baltimore). 66 Buchanan v. Warley, 245 U.S. 60, 1917 LEXIS 1788 67 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 30. 68 Constitution of the United States of America, Amendment 14 69 Buchanan v. Warley, 245 U.S. 60, 1917 LEXIS 1788 70 Segregational Ordinance Illegal. BALTIMORE, MD, United States:, 1917. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: The Baltimore African-American (1893-1988). Web. 21 Apr. 2011. 71 Segregational Ordinance Illegal. BALTIMORE, MD, United States:, 1917. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: The Baltimore African-American (1893-1988). Web. 21 Apr. 2011. 72 Power, Garrett. "Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913." Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): Print. 12. 73 Power, Garrett. "Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913." Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): Print. 12. 74 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 50. 75 Power, Garrett. "Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913." Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): Print. 12. 76 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 52. 107 77 Power, Garrett. "Apartheid Baltimore Style: The Residential Segregation Ordinances of 1910-1913." Maryland Law Review 42 (1983): Print. 12. 78 Henderson, Peter Harry. Local Deals and the New Deal State: Implementing Federal Public Housing in Baltimore 1933-1968. Ph.D. diss., Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University, 1994. 141. 79 Henderson, Peter Harry. Local Deals and the New Deal State: Implementing Federal Public Housing in Baltimore 1933-1968. Ph.D. diss., Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University, 1994. 86. 80 Henderson, Peter Harry. Local Deals and the New Deal State: Implementing Federal Public Housing in Baltimore 1933-1968. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University, 1994. 84. 81 Power, Garrett. Meade v. Dennistone: The NAACP's Test Case to “...Sue Jim Crow Out of Maryland with the Fourteenth Amendment.” 63 Maryland Law Review 773 (2004) p. 794 82 Garrett Power wrote an article for the Maryland Law Review entitled, Meade v. Dennistone: The NAACP's Test Case to “...Sue Jim Crow Out of Maryland with the Fourteenth Amendment.” 63 Maryland Law Review 773 (2004) 83 Meade v. Dennistone, 173 Md. 295, 1938, LEXIS 311 84 109 U.S. 3 17 “In this connection, it is proper to state that civil rights, such as are guaranteed by the Constitution against State aggression, cannot be impaired by the wrongful acts of individuals, unsupported by State authority in the shape of laws, customs, or judicial or executive proceedings. The wrongful act of an individual, unsupported by any such authority, is simply a private wrong … if not sanctioned in some way by the State, or not done under State authority, his rights remain in full force…” 85 Shelley v. Kraemer, 334 U.S. 1, 1948 LEXIS 2764 86 Red Explained: “Instructions” Record Group 195, National Archives 87 HOLC guidelines: “Instructions for Filing Out” Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. Print. 67. 88 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. 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"AT PEACE IN QUIET; for 30 Years, People have Wondered how Tommy D'Alesando III, a Born Winner, could Walk Away from Politics. it Wasn't the `68 Riot, He Insists.: [FINAL Edition]." The Sun: 1.D. Baltimore Sun. 1998. Web. 13 Apr. 2011 <http://search.proquest.com/docview/406360995?accountid=10750>. 185 Jones, R.B. “Recalling Baltimore’s 1968 Riots: [FINAL Edition].” The Sun: 27.A. Baltimore Sun. 1998. Web. 13 Apr. 2011 186 Oishi, Gene. “10 Years After the Riots: Some Progress has been made.” The Sun (1837-1985): C1. ProQuest Historical Newspapers: Baltimore Sun, The (1837-1985). 1978. Web. 6 Apr. 2011 <http://search.proquest.com/docview/542141256?accountid=10750>. 187 Imhoff, Ernest F. “Recalling Baltimore’s 1968 Riots: [FINAL Edition].” The Sun: 27.A. Baltimore Sun. 1998. Web. 13 Apr. 2011 <http://search.proquest.com/docview/406380749?accountid=10750>. 188 Motz, Jane. Report on Baltimore Civil Disorders, April, 1968. 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Web. 6 Apr. 2011 <http://search.proquest.com/docview/537871390?accountid=10750>. 209 Power, Garrett. “The Unwisdom of Allowing City Growth To Work Out Its Own Destiny” Maryland Law Review 47 (1988): Print. 4. 210 Friedrichs, Jürgen, and Allen C. Goodman. The changing downtown: a comparative study of Baltimore and Hamburg. Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1987. Print. 16. 211 http://globalharbors.org/inner_harbor_story.html 212 http://globalharbors.org/inner_harbor_story.html 213 http://globalharbors.org/inner_harbor_story.html 214 Dannes, Jeff Collateral Damage: Unintended Consequences of Urban Renewal in Baltimore (Washington and Lee University: ) <http://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&q=cache:42e7re4YXqUJ:www.wlu.edu/documents /shepherd/academics/cap_03_dannes.pdf+baltimore+urban+renewal&hl=en&gl=us&pid =bl&srcid=ADGEESiP64NW_-aKenQ7kFwsXavx-u5lLNiIxyehQ0m-z_rqzmO9- VDt1VWuwfeFKGlYtXk5tQ-cS145nnZydMpFx1NBDQyY9cVTaYCDaGaC4G- 116 COcdEyIhWAZd3hs0uDS54Ukm_8gXd&sig=AHIEtbQ76GbnmJ1HbfSYquZcfTMgz- fLbQ> 16. 215 http://globalharbors.org/inner_harbor_story.html 216 http://globalharbors.org/inner_harbor_story.html 217 http://globalharbors.org/inner_harbor_story.html 218 http://globalharbors.org/inner_harbor_story.html 219 Pietila, Antero. Not in my neighborhood: how bigotry shaped a great American city. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 2010. 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HUD 404 F.3d 821, *; 2005 U.S. App. LEXIS 6340, p. 7 heading 1 117 Appendix 1: Redlining Map Appendix 2: Key to following 6 images Gottlieb, Cassandra W. The Effect of Site Selection Policies and Practices on the Success and Failure of the Federal Public Housing Program: The Case of Baltimore (1975) 54 Appendix 3: 1940s Federal Public Housing Projects Gottlieb, Cassandra W. The Effect of Site Selection Policies and Practices on the Success and Failure of the Federal Public Housing Program: The Case of Baltimore (1975) 55. Appendix 4: 1950 Baltimore Housing Authority, “blighted” inner city Gottlieb, Cassandra W. The Effect of Site Selection Policies and Practices on the Success and Failure of the Federal Public Housing Program: The Case of Baltimore (1975) 56. Appendix 5: 1950-1969 Federal Public Housing Projects Gottlieb, Cassandra W. The Effect of Site Selection Policies and Practices on the Success and Failure of the Federal Public Housing Program: The Case of Baltimore (1975) 57. Appendix 6: 1969-1975 Federal Public Housing Projects – Mount Winans, Oswego Mall, Scattered Gottlieb, Cassandra W. The Effect of Site Selection Policies and Practices on the Success and Failure of the Federal Public Housing Program: The Case of Baltimore (1975) 58. Appendix 7: 1969-1975 Federal Public Housing Projects – Broadway, Gay Street, Rosedale Farms Gottlieb, Cassandra W. The Effect of Site Selection Policies and Practices on the Success and Failure of the Federal Public Housing Program: The Case of Baltimore (1975) 59. Appendix 8: Relationship of Federal Public Housing Projects to Downtown Business District Gottlieb, Cassandra W. The Effect of Site Selection Policies and Practices on the Success and Failure of the Federal Public Housing Program: The Case of Baltimore (1975) 60. Appendix 9: 1940 Census Tract % Black “% Black, 1940” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 10: 1950 Census Tract % Black “% Black, 1950” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 11: Bottom Left Map shows 1960 % Black using census data however because these maps are from a secondary source and I am not familiar with the mapping software used I am not describing them in as much detail as the maps I created myself. Orser, W. Edward. Blockbusting in Baltimore: the Edmondson Village story. Lexington, KY. : University Press Of Kentucky, 1994. Print. 2. Appendix 12: 1970 Census Tract % Black “% Black, 1970” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 13: 1980 Census Tract % Black “% Black, 1980” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 14: 1990 Census Track % Black “% Black, 1990” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 15: 2000 Census Tract % Black “% Black, 2000” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 16: 2010 Census Tract % Black “% Black, 2010” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 17: 2000 Census Tract Median Household Income “Median Household Income, 2000” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 18: 2000 Census Tract, Education, % Less Than High School “% Less Then High School Education, 2000” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 19: 2000 Census Tract % Unemployed “% Unemployed, 2000” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 20: 2000 Census Tract % Living in Poverty “% Living in Poverty, 2000” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 21: 2000 Census Tract Population Density “Population Density, 2000” Map. Social Explorer. Social Explorer, n.d. Web. Apr 21 18:00 EST 2011.. (based on data from U.S. Census Bureau) Appendix 22: Neighborhoods where 1968 riots occurred Levy, Dr. Peter and Kulbicki, Katherine. Mapping the Baltimore Riots. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Appendix 23: 1960s Census Tract % Black compared to incidents related to 1968 Riots Levy, Dr. Peter and Kulbicki, Katherine. Mapping the Baltimore Riots. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University  Appendix 24: Racial Composition of Baltimore City 1790-2009 US Census Bureau, 1790-2009 (Baltimore Population 1790-2009 By Race) Total Baltimore City Year Population White Black Free Black % White % Black 1790 13,503 11,925 1,578 --- 88% 12% 1800 26,514 20,900 5,614 2,771 79% 21% 1810 46,555 36,212 10,343 5,671 78% 22% 1820 62,738 48,055 14,683 10,324 77% 23% 1830 80,620 61,710 18,910 14,788 77% 23% 1840 102,313 81,147 21,166 17,980 79% 21% 1850 169,054 140,666 28,388 25,442 83% 17% 1860 212,418 184,520 27,898 25,680 87% 13% 1870 267,354 227,794 39,560 --- 85% 15% 1880 332,313 278,584 53,729 --- 84% 16% 1890 434,439 367,143 67,296 --- 85% 15% 1900 508,957 429,218 79,739 --- 84% 16% 1910 558,485 473,387 85,098 --- 85% 15% 1920 733,826 625,130 108,696 --- 85% 15% 1930 804,874 662,124 142,750 --- 82% 18% 1940 859,100 692,705 166,395 --- 81% 19% 1950 949,708 723,675 226,053 --- 76% 24% 1960 939,024 610,512 328,512 --- 65% 35% 1970 905,759 479,837 425,950 --- 53% 47% 1980 786,775 342,113 441,662 --- 43% 56% 1990 736,014 287,753 448,261 --- 39% 61% 2000 651,154 205,982 418,951 --- 32% 64% 2005 640,064 206,577 411,621 --- 32% 64% 2009 637,418 211,285 402,721 33% 63% Appendix 25: One of the alley districts selected for study by Janet Kemp Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 97. Appendix 26: One of the tenement districts selected for study by Janet Kemp Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 98. Appendix 27: One of the tenement districts selected for study by Janet Kemp Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 99. Appendix 28: One of the alley districts selected for study by Janet Kemp Kemp, Janet E. Housing Conditions in Baltimore: Report of a Special Committee of the Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor and Charity Organization Society. Baltimore: The Federated Charities: Baltimore, 1907. Print. 100. Appendix 29: View of Inner Harbor from Light Street 1910 Olson, Sherry H.. Baltimore, the building of an American city. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980. 252.  Appendix 30: Plans for Baltimore Inner Harbor 1970s Olson, Sherry H.. Baltimore, the building of an American city. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980. 354. Light Street Appendix 31: 1918 Baltimore’s boundaries expand Power, Garrett. Meade v. Dennistone: The NAACP's Test Case to “...Sue Jim Crow Out of Maryland with the Fourteenth Amendment.” 63 Maryland Law Review 773 (2004) Appendix 32: 1940 Public Housing and Areas of Minority Concentration University of Baltimore, Langsdale Library Special Collections. archives.ubalt.edu/aclu/pdf/Plex628.pdf Appendix 33: 1960 Public Housing and Areas of Minority Concentration University of Baltimore, Langsdale Library Special Collections. archives.ubalt.edu/aclu/pdf/Plex628.pdf