Residents & Housing
To the south and east of Sugar Hill, between 130th and 140th Streets and particularly east of Seventh Avenue, one enters an area called “the Valley” or the “Harlem Plain.” The Valley swells with life, laughter, and music. The buildings here are smaller and were built on speculation, intended for middle- and lower-class residents. The apartments here are generally tenement buildings and walk-ups above shopfronts and small businesses.
Unfortunately, with the construction of the el and the Lenox Avenue IRT subway line, the area was overlooked by new residents (who moved further north thus, there were many empty apartments in the Valley. The owners were approached by Philip A. Payton and the Afro-American Realty Company, who proposed moving black families into these apartments in 1904; Payton’s plan was not merely meant to uplift the race, but to line his pockets by charging the black families a higher rent than their white counterparts. These unoccupied apartments become the heart of migration to Harlem, quickly filling with new residents from the South and the Caribbean. The apartments are small, though city regulations at the time insisted on fire escapes and air shafts to provide light and air to residents, making the newer buildings far more livable than the older tenement housing to the south. Still, in the summer, these residences are sweat-filled hotboxes, driving most occupants to socialize on fire escapes and the streets for a breath of cooler air.
Despite their relatively new-built stature, the apartments in the Valley are soon overpopulated. The residents often sublease their spaces illegally to family and friends in order to make rent. The financial uncertainty makes for a transient population unable to put down reliable roots. Taking on additional lodgers is another common way to make rent, but this practice increases the issues of overpopulation in an already dense part of Harlem. As a result, illnesses (such as the flu) can spread quickly through the Valley. Many families are a single injury or major illness away from being unable to make rent and, consequently, children are often called to work from a young age in order to make ends meet. Since child labor is legal, and parents are otherwise faced with homelessness, many children quickly find work in the various garment factories and sweatshops of New York. In many cases, families only manage to make it to the end of the month with all members contributing fully.
Another solution to combat mercilessly high costs is a “rent party.” A large party—with a cover charge—is held by the tenant, who profits from the cover in order to make the week’s rent. These parties typically feature food, drink, and live music for attendees. Parties are advertised by word of mouth or by passing out flyers. While the landlords rarely care where their tenants get their money, rent parties can get loud. Parties that are too free with the alcohol can also attract police attention, resulting in costly “fees” (bribes), the risk of arrest, or worse. Women set up hair-braiding and beauty businesses in their living rooms, and conversation floats out to the street below. Children shoot marbles and run numbers, and the occasional elderly veteran of the Civil War may be found telling war stories. Look here along the main streets (and on 135th) for the kind of business that keeps a neighborhood going, not just fancy hot spots. Instead, here are cafés where one can get a solid meal with recognizable meat for a reasonable price, as well as find a cramped tailor’s shop, a boxing studio, a series of churches, and the YMCA.
Challenges
High rent and poor living aren’t the only challenges residents of the Valley face. Just south of Sugar Hill (between 142nd and 143rd along Lenox to Seventh Avenue) lies what is known as a “lung block.” Tuberculosis infection is estimated at 3 percent of Harlem’s population, and the rate of death in the lung block is double that of the rest of Manhattan. Crowded conditions and lack of quality medical care contribute to the ongoing issue.
When economic necessity forces both parents to work out of the home, childcare is a concern—over half of Harlem’s mothers must work in order to make ends meet. Older children may work or be lucky enough to attend school, but younger children and babies require attendance by friends, relatives, or nurseries. A cottage industry of childcare, called “baby farms,” pops up in Harlem to meet the need. Despite the economic necessity, mothers that use baby farms are often condemned for it, leaving no good option for those caught in this situation. Still, parents are wise to practice caution with these services, as there are few regulations for training or standards of care, and half or more have no permits. Even organized crime has gotten in on this gig, using baby farms as a front for gambling dens and moonshining.
Points of Interest
Coming to Harlem from the South or the West Indies with little more than a dream and a prayer can be difficult. If you’re a young woman traveling alone with no local contacts, Harlem can be overwhelming. The White Rose Mission was co-founded by Maritcha Lyons, a Brooklyn teacher, and Victoria Matthews, an activist and former enslaved person. They commit their lives to helping other women safely restart theirs. The Mission (262 West 136th Street) offers a safe place to sleep, simple meals, job placement, and training for women newly arrived in the city. A small library, as well as lectures by Hubert Harrison, provide more educational opportunities for residents and dues-paying members. Mission volunteers meet ships and trains to provide services to young women before they can fall foul of the ever-present dangers of the street.
The Wiley Wilson Sanitarium (138th Street and 7th Avenue) offers hospital services to the residents of Strivers’ Row and the Valley. The small hospital includes a surgical center. The founder, Dr. Wiley Wilson, is the ex-husband of cosmetics millionaire A’Lelia Walker.
When stepping into a shop, prepare to come face to face with whiteness; only 20 percent of Harlem’s businesses are owned by African-Americans, and most white owners do not hire staff from among their patrons. As a result, most of the residents of Harlem are forced to go outside of their neighborhoods to find employment in other shops, at the docks, and in skyscraper construction efforts in Lower Manhattan.
On the northern end of the Valley, at 596 Lenox Avenue, the elegant Savoy Ballroom opens in 1926 under the management of Charles Buchanan, an African-American businessman, and financed by white entrepreneur Jay Faggen and Jewish businessman Moe Gale. The ballroom, which extends the length of an entire city block (between 140th and 141st Streets), appears even bigger thanks to its trick of mirrored walls. At one end of the ballroom, talented young dancers develop new moves, such as the Lindy Hop. At the other, the Savoy Hostesses teach more traditional dancing forms, and partner unaccompanied gentlemen for a mere 25 cents per dance. The ballroom stays open every night of the week, glittering and pulsing with what Langston Hughes called “the Heartbeat of Harlem.” New dances quickly become the craze, and the Charleston—debuted by Josephine Baker—becomes wildly popular.
Strivers’ Row (138th and 139th Streets) is a series of row houses known to be some of the finest homes and apartments in New York; they were intended for upper-middle-class whites, but sit empty until 1920 when the owners finally agreed to sell to blacks. The houses quickly attract up-and-coming professionals, the “strivers” the area becomes known for. Just a little to the south the public Harlem Hospital, including an ambulance station and nurses’ home, occupies the block between 136th and 137th Streets on the east side of Lenox Avenue. Although two-thirds of its patients are African-American, and it has begun hiring African-American doctors and training African-American nurses, the hospital’s leadership and staff remain mostly white.
The first black-owned recording company, Black Swan Records, opens its Harlem studio in 1921. The owner, Harry Pace, names the business after famed opera singer Elizabeth Taylor Greenfeld, better known as the “Black Swan.” The company’s mission is simple: to serve black stockholders, musicians, and their employees. Black Swan Records focuses on jazz and blues recordings but has the honor of being the first company to record black classical music. While it will ultimately close its doors in 1923, the label releases more than 180 records, a number that would take decades for any other black-owned studio to match. In 1922, white-owned record companies begin targeting black artists and adversely impact Black Swan’s business. This, along with the board’s conflicts with Marcus Garvey, leads to it declaring bankruptcy in December 1923.
The Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) is founded by Marcus Garvey in 1914, and with 17 members moves to a dank basement in Harlem in 1916. By 1918, UNIA becomes a movement for black economic and political power, with offices springing up around Harlem. The original Harlem UNIA Headquarters was located at 36 West 135th Street in the Crescent Theater building, and then at 54–56 West 135th Street with the offices of the Black Star Press. 1920 sees Garvey cement nearly 1,000 local divisions in the United States, the Caribbean, Central America, Canada, and Africa.
Across the street from the Abyssinian Baptist Church (on 138th Street) lies the Renaissance Ballroom & Casino. One of the few entirely black-owned and operated social venues in Harlem, this complex includes stores, a theater, a ballroom, and a casino. The ballroom serves two purposes: dancing and basketball; squeaky shoes ball early in the evening are followed by dancing until late at night. While numerous young black writers frequent the Hobby Horse bookstore (on 136th Street), drinking coffee, writing, and debating ideas.
St. Philip’s Protestant Episcopal Church (on 134th Street just west of Seventh Avenue) is the wealthiest and largest church in Harlem. Tis grand edifice was designed by Vertner W. Tandy and George W. Foster, who were among the first registered black architects of New York and New Jersey. The church is a center of both spiritual and social support for the community. It is far from the only church in Harlem— more than a hundred churches are active, though many of them are small enough to meet in residences and storefronts. Most white churches in Harlem are Catholic, while a smaller number of synagogues cater to the Jewish community.
If seeking community, culture, and edification, head over to 135th and Lenox where the modest (1919) building for the Harlem branch of the YMCA stands (from 1932, the building becomes a soaring brick structure). Unlike unintegrated YMCAs around the city or the nation, the Harlem branch serves as a haven for African-American men, providing athletic equipment, rooms to rent by the night or month, and spaces where men can express themselves and encounter others. Here, a traveler from Vermont, newly arrived to the city and looking to make his future, might sit down to a communal meal next to an elderly man born into slavery in Alabama who has lived here (and in the previous “Colored Men’s Branch”) since it opened. You never know who you’ll meet at the YMCA.
Between 135th and 136th Streets on Lenox Avenue resides the New York Public Library Harlem Branch (which later becomes the Schomburg Center). The library opened its doors in 1905 with 10,000 books. A white woman, Ernestine Rose, becomes the chief librarian and integrates the formerly all-white staff in 1920. She focuses on integrated reading programs for the community and schools and hosts the library’s first African-American art exhibit, which becomes an annual event. The library branch quickly becomes a focal point for the budding Harlem Renaissance.
On the western edge of Harlem can be found St. Nicholas Park, extending from 141st Street to 128th Street, with a playground along 129th. It lies on craggy and rough terrain, and the southernmost area of the park is known as the “Point of Rocks,” having served as a military campground for General Washington’s men during the Revolutionary War. The “Point” looms over surrounding buildings in winter when it’s not covered with greenery. On the other side of the park is the College of the City of New York, a free public institution of higher education. The college was founded on the principle of educating all who qualified solely on academic merit, admitting students both rich and poor, so long as they were men (women are not admitted until 1930). The college welcomes all; black, Jewish, or Irish, it doesn’t matter.
In 1913, A’Lelia Walker purchased the property at 108 West 136th Street. The Stanford-White-designed townhouse expanded the salon business and school into New York. A few years later, she purchased 110 (next door) and employed Vertner Woodson Tandy (one of the first African-American architects) to remodel the twin Harlem townhouses into one luxurious manor, which would eventually become The Dark Tower (at 108–110 West 136th Street and Lenox Avenue). The remodeled mansion is fashioned in a Neo-Georgian brick with limestone. Lelia College of Beauty Culture classes are held in the basement, while the Walker Hair Parlor operates out of the first floor. The remaining levels of the mansion are dedicated to a library, The Dark Tower itself, and living quarters. Eventually, Walker moves out of the manor and into an apartment on Edgecombe Avenue. The mansion’s name takes inspiration from Countee Cullen’s poem of the same name (published in Opportunity magazine), and the place is dedicated to a creative salon, providing opportunities for writers and musicians to attend readings and performances every evening. Exquisite rosewood furniture fills the salon, as well as a grand, gold-painted piano and a sky-blue Victrola, while two poems are mounted on the walls: “From the Dark Tower” by Cullen, and parts of “The Weary Blues” by Langston Hughes. Membership to The Dark Tower isn’t free—the initial invitation to join states there is a one-dollar annual fee. The costs associated with a visit vary (15 cents to check a coat and 50 cents for a sandwich, for example). The Dark Tower closes its doors in November 1928, as Walker leases the mansion to the City of New York.
At 133rd Street stands the Clam House, a long and narrow nightclub tucked in between other far less notorious clubs. Known properly as Harry Hansberry’s Clam House, Gladys Bentley headlines, performing in tails and a top hat with a chorus line in drag. Her rich alto and obscene, improvised lyrics lend an energy to an evening’s entertainment that is hard to find anywhere else. While the club has a reputation for gay activity, the patrons still practice discretion—even in the relatively flexible nightclub scene of Harlem, police entrapment can and does occur. A block over on 133rd Street, Pod’s and Jerry’s Catagonia Club is always hopping with Willie “The Lion” Smith and “Little Jazzbo” blowing the roof off the joint. A few steps away is the Band Box Club, known for its spontaneous jam sessions at the bar. At 132nd Street and Seventh Avenue, the Lafayette Theatre (known to locals as the “House Beautiful”) becomes desegregated in 1913, allowing black theatergoers to join the white audience in the orchestra seats, instead of being restricted to the balcony. Here, African-American audiences can attend performances of the black Lafayette Players. The venue specializes in presenting mainstream Broadway shows, primarily by white playwrights, with an emphasis on the equal quality of black acting rather than spotlighting the works of African-American writers. The theater hosts live bands when between plays and musicals, and saw the New York City debut of a 24-year-old Duke Ellington. Unfortunately, the theater goes through two management changes in the 1920s, leading to more comedy and vaudeville rather than serious drama—until the Lafayette becomes home to the Works Project Administration theater programs. In 1920, the play The Emperor Jones by Eugene O’Neill blends Surrealism and Expressionism in a metaphorical take on the exploitative sugar-based reign of Henri Christophe in Haiti. It is also an indirect critique of the U.S.’s occupation of Haiti in 1915. The play sparks a fascination for Haiti and Haitian imagery in Harlem that carries through the Renaissance, often in answer and counterpoint to the play’s own racist and patronizing themes. By the mid-1930s, the Lafayette Theatre again enjoys regular audience attendance, reaching its height with Orson Welles’ staging of Macbeth in 1936. Known as the “Voodoo Macbeth” for the reframing of the play’s setting from Scotland to a mythical island in the Caribbean, this production provides the coda to the themes initiated by The Emperor Jones.
On Fifth Avenue and 132nd Street, Edmond’s Cellar, owned by Edmond “Mule” Johnson, has a seven-year run from 1915–1922. This basement cabaret frequently features Ethel Waters with a three-piece band. The crowd is composed of drug dealers, prostitutes, cross-dressers, and gamblers. The club is known for its so-called “pansy” entertainment. Elsewhere, the Corner (at 131st Street and Seventh Avenue) is a frequent hangout for musicians—it is literally a quiet corner to discuss, play tunes, and bond.
Like the Cotton Club, Connie’s Inn (at 131st Street and Seventh Avenue) is owned by bootleggers—the three Immerman brothers—and specializes in African-American performers. Like Owney Madden, the Immerman brothers segregate the house, but unlike the Cotton Club, Connie’s also opens after hours to African-American audiences from the neighborhood; in the small hours of the morning, performers improvise sets, rising talents showcase their chops, and the people of Harlem enjoy their own music. Connie’s Inn is also a front for a silent partner, Dutch Schultz the Bronx mobster uses the club to sell smuggled alcohol. Directly above Connie’s, The Barbecue boasts the first jukebox in all of Harlem and the best ribs. Between the Lafayette Theatre and Connie’s Inn, one might pause to touch the Tree of Hope—a large chestnut tree whose roots force up the sidewalk. Out-of-work or aspiring black performers touch the tree for luck when headed to a gig, kiss it when finding work, or more practically, gather around it to talk about possible gigs and form new acts. Lottie Joplin, the wife of Scott Joplin (famed composer, pianist, and “King of Ragtime Writers”), runs Joplin Boarding House (at 163 West 131st Street.) Lottie opens the boarding house in 1920 to provide housing for entertainers; some of the current residents include Ferdinand “Jelly Roll” Morton and Eubie Blake.
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