One example I’ve been sitting on for a while is the Montgomery County, Maryland, Planning Department’s study of racially restrictive deed covenants and housing discrimination. This screenshot from the agency’s 2023 report shows a discussion of a Black physician’s efforts to buy a home in Silver Spring in the early 1960s.
Screenshot, “Working Draft of the Mapping Segregation Report,” pp. 27-28.
The report’s authors didn’t bother to learn that this home described in their report was still owned by the family and that the doctor’s daughter was married to the son of a Tulsa race massacre survivor and leading voice in Black history: John Hope Franklin.
There’s lots more missing from the report, but that’s a story for another day.
The Fern Hollow Bridge collapsed in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in the pre-dawn hours of Friday January 28, 2022. The structure had carried Forbes Avenue across a steeply sloped stream valley on the eastern edge of Frick Park. Constructed in 1901 and replaced in 1973, the Fern Hollow Bridge and Forbes Avenue comprised a large segment of the Pittsburgh eruv’s northern boundary. Stone walls, some laid by masons and another the sheer face of a steep hill, carried the boundary to the bridge’s approaches. Then, using metal poles and then light poles along the bridge’s spans, the eruv boundary crossed from west to east. When the bridge fell that cold winter morning, Pittsburgh residents lost critical transportation and spiritual infrastructure.
Forbes Avenue entrance to Frick Park and approach to the Fern Hollow Bridge, December 2022. Photo by David S. Rotenstein.
Pittsburgh has had an eruv since 1986. The Pittsburgh eruv originally wrapped around the city’s Squirrel Hill neighborhood, an area with many synagogues, Jewish day schools, and stores catering to Pittsburgh’s large Jewish community. Later expansions added several nearby neighborhoods and institutions serving Jews, including universities (Carnegie-Mellon University, the University of Pittsburgh, Carlow University, and Chatham College) and several hospitals. The Fern Hollow Bridge is located in an expansion area added in the early 1990s. Currently, the Pittsburgh eruv covers 6.7 square miles with an approximate 16-mile perimeter.
Eruv Map.jpg: Maps showing the Pittsburgh eruv boundary prior to a 2022 expansion and the Fern Hollow Bridge location. Adapted from https://www.pittsburgheruv.org/eruv-map.
A city marked by three rivers, many stream valleys, and steep topography, Pittsburgh has 446 bridges in its city limits. Though the investigation into the cause of the Fern Hollow Bridge collapse is ongoing, preliminary assessments point to deferred maintenance and a significantly deteriorated substructure. A Pittsburgh Post-Gazette investigation in the months after the collapse revealed that the Fern Hollow Bridge was one of many in the city and region rated poor and potentially dangerous.
It took less than a year for the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation to design and rebuild the Fern Hollow Bridge. Just before it reopened, I reported on the eruv and the bridge collapse for NEXTpittsburgh, a local online news outlet. This post expands on that reporting.
Ann Crichton was elected to the Decatur, Ga., City Commission in 1971. Her colleagues in 1977 selected her as mayor of the municipality that is organized under the “council-mayor” form in which the mayor is a ceremonial position. Individuals are “elected” by their peers to chair city commission meetings and to perform other symbolic functions.
Crichton, an Agnes Scott College graduate, became a nationally recognized expert in municipal government, community development, and affordable housing. After being ousted from office in 1979, Crichton went on to serve as President Jimmy Carter’s Atlanta-based regional director of the Economic Development Administration. After that, Crichton briefly moved to the United Kingdom before returning to Atlanta and founding her own economic development consulting business.
Then-Decatur Mayor Ann Crichton and then-Baltimore Mayor Walter Orlinsky representing the National League of Cities appeared before the U.S. House of Representatives Subcommittee on Housing and Community Development of the Committee on Banking, Finance and Urban Affairs, Feb. 25, 1977.
I can remember seeing this book, Lemon Swamp and Other Places: A Carolina Memoir, on bookstore shelves while living in Atlanta in the 1980s and 1990s. For whatever reason I never bought it or read it. That all changed a few months ago after I began researching a “forgotten” Pittsburgh Negro Leagues ballpark and the people involved in its development, etc. It turns out that Louis Bellinger (1891-1946), the only licensed and practicing Black architect in Pittsburgh between 1919 and his death in 1946, designed and built the stadium in 1920. And, he built Greenlee Field a dozen years later. This book is a memoir of the extended Bellinger family and their lives in South Carolina. Louis left Charleston in the teens and ended up in Pittsburgh in 1919. His father and brothers joined him by 1926. But it’s not just a window into the architect’s life. It also offers a glimpse into the life of Walter Bellinger (1901-1965), Louis’s younger brother.
In the spring of 2021, a group of Decatur, Ga., residents approached local institutions with a request for information about the history of Juneteenth in the city. They wrote to the DeKalb History Center and to city officials, including assistant city manager Linda Harris.
Harris replied to an initial query by directing the group to the City’s “Historic Decatur” web page and to a page dedicated to the history of Decatur’s erased Beacon community. It’s curious that Harris would direct someone asking about Black history in Decatur to the “Historic Decatur” page because the information there only discusses white history and Black history is completely absent. In fact, the page is such a clearcut example of whitewashed history that I use in in my lectures, one as recently as August 6, 2022.
Slide used in Black history presentation delivered at Berry College, Rome, Ga., Aug. 6, 2022.
Just a reminder that the Lawrenceville Historical Society program on the former Federal Cold Storage Co. building and Lucky’s bar is next week. There’s lots to cover, from ice entrepreneurs to mobsters to Pittsburgh’s gay community. One fun part of the program will be discussing the documentation over the past year of the cold storage company building’s demolition.
For a deeper dive into the Federal Cold Storage Company building, check out the new Society for Industrial Archeology newsletter. Not a member? No problem, copies will be available at the program.
Last week, the Silver Spring Historical Society (Silver Spring, Maryland) invited its Facebook audience to share stories about a donut shop. The society (which really isn’t a society; it’s four boomer building huggers) is short on history and steeped in nostalgia that celebrates the white supremacists who “built” Silver Spring and erases Black history. This post accepts the historical society’s request for “specific memories” of the site.
This is the third of three posts featuring short video segments produced over the summer for AmeriCorps. The first two covered Silver Spring’s Tastee Diner and Crivella’s Wayside Inn.
This clip features a site in Silver Spring where the community’s Jim Crow history was erased. The “Silver Spring Memory Wall” is a five-mural installation next to Acorn Park. It is the product of historic preservation and planning decisions made in the 1990s to tell Silver Spring’s history through public art.
Those murals present a nostalgic view of Silver Spring history that glosses over its decades as a sundown suburb. It also intentionally sought to ameliorate the absence of Blacks from public places in the twentieth century by replacing white people with African Americans in a depiction of Silver Spring’s train station in the 1940s.
Silver Spring Memory Wall, B&O Railroad Station mural.
Former Washington, D.C., muralist Mame Cohalan (who died in 2020) recognized that the historic photos she was using were missing Black people. She asked her Montgomery County clients for permission to add some diversity — Black people — into the artwork. The resulting mural erased Silver Spring’s Jim Crow history by inserting Black people into a place and time where they otherwise never would have been found.
1994 Montgomery County Planning Department memo asking permission to add more “cultural diversity” to Memory Wall murals.
This clip tells the Acorn Park and Silver Spring Memory Wall story.
This is the second of three posts featuring short video segments produced over the summer for AmeriCorps. The first in this series featured nostalgia and Silver Spring’s Tastee Diner.
This clip visits the site where Crivella’s Wayside Inn operated for several decades in the twentieth century. In the early 1960s, its owners refused to integrate the restaurant’s dining room — even after Montgomery County enacted an open accommodations law. Years of civil rights protests and litigation ensued. Montgomery County later bought the property and demolished the building, foreclosing on opportunities to commemorate the civil rights era and Silver Spring’s Black history. County leaders could have celebrated the life of civil rights icon Roscoe Nix; instead, they rebranded the space “Bottleworks Lane” to commemorate two historic bottling plants nearby.
This clip focusing on Crivella’s tells some of this story.
In August I got an email from an AmeriCorps Project Change leader asking me to contribute to an upcoming training tour of Silver Spring, Maryland, for new volunteers. The project director and I spoke for about an hour and I agreed to produce three short videos about historic places in Silver Spring where history has been whitewashed.
The September 2, 2021, day-long tour wound through sites on both sides of the D.C.-Maryland line and it included stops at the Tastee Diner, the former Crivella’s Wayside Inn, and Acorn Park.
The clip focusing on the Tastee Diner contrasts the nostalgia-laden histories and historic preservation efforts that omit the popular eatery’s Jim Crow past.
