Jacques Kelly: Documents reveal the origins of several Baltimore neighborhoods
[Courtesy of the Sheridan Libraries]
Nearly 300 boxes of correspondence and papers of the old Roland Park Co. were opened to scholars and others this spring at the Johns Hopkins University’s Sheridan Libraries. They represent remarkable documentation of six Baltimore neighborhoods — Roland Park, Guilford, Homeland, The Orchards, Original Northwood and Old Dundalk.
For nearly 50 years, these papers and photographs rested at Cornell University, where they had been trucked after real estate developer Roland Park Co. closed its offices in the 4800 block of Roland Ave. Cornell has a renowned landscape and architecture department.
“The materials were unprocessed and in state of chaos that can be daunting. My job was to remove the chaos,” said Valerie Addonizio, an archivist who spent a year categorizing and sifting through the collection, which reveals the origins of Baltimore’s major garden suburbs.
I looked at fascinating photographs of the corner of University Parkway and St. Paul Street as the barest outlines of Guilford were taking shape about 1915. I saw images of stucco Arts and Crafts homes that would win their architects laurels.
These rarely viewed scenes show a prosperous Baltimore of a century ago whose business and professional elite sought custom-built, architect-designed housing on landscaped and terraced thoroughfares. This is not the Baltimore of marble steps; it is the enclave of Cotswold-inspired cottages and Tudoresque mansions within walking distance of neatly tailored streetcar lines. Everything seems balanced and in firm design control.
The letters now preserved at Hopkins offer ample evidence of Roland Park Co. officials’ serious and demanding tone. Edward Bouton, a fastidious executive of the firm, worked in concert with Olmsted Brothers company, the country’s premier landscape architects. They fussed and micromanaged the color of azaleas, the contours of hedges and the aesthetics of street lamps. No streetcar shelter escaped Bouton’s attention — or his voluble comments.
But what rests in those boxes was not all about brick hues. The homes had to sell, and sell to “the right people.” The company used and reused the phrase “The District” to describe their enclave. This was not a gated community. And it’s been well-known that the homes came with a set of covenants aimed at keeping African-Americans and Jews out. Such housing policies were ruled illegal several decades later, in the late 1960s.
“It was more than an understanding; it was an internal policy,” Addonizio said of the issue of who could live in Roland Park Co.-developed properties.
This archive includes a set of neatly typed folder cards stamped “Exclusion File” in purple ink. These are sales interview notes taken by company officials and agents as they interviewed prospective home buyers. This file documents the potential customers who were redlined as unacceptable.
“The reason why archives exist is not to only extol the virtues or tell the good story, but to approximate the truth,” said Hopkins archivist Jordon Steele. “The Roland Park Co. made great contributions. It also made questionable contributions.”
An attorney who worked for Baltimore City was shunned because his name was Lithuanian and he lived in the Lithuanian community on Hollins Street. Jews were routinely turned down after Roland Park Co. officials visited their homes in Northwest Baltimore. Greeks and Italians were also placed in the exclusion files.
A prominent contractor of Italian descent appears on the list banning him from building in Guilford, as well as his Jewish counterpart. The exclusions also applied to two Baltimore undertakers. Another card has the word “bootlegger” written across the top. He was told to look elsewhere. I did not see any reference to African-American homebuyers.
