Introduction When I was in high school I first read Edgar Lee Masters’s book of poems Spoon River Anthology The idea of creating a fictional town and people buried in the fictional Spoon River cemetery intrigued me As the idea for this book ripened in my mind I began to imagine a street corner in Harlem the Harlem of my youth and the very much alive people who would pass that corner So began Here in Harlem The characters in this book all represent people I have known or whose lives have touched mine I vividly remember the story of the World War II veteran who was blinded by a southern sheriff I remember too when my Bible school class visited St Joseph’s and an old black man who came with us wondered why the mass then said in Latin was so quiet He loved a shouting church I loved him So many of my heroes are in this book Langston Hughes used to do readings and sell his books from a shopping bag in my church Countee Cullen taught school a few blocks from my house Joe Louis had the good grace to shake his huge fist at the kids on my block Other residents have become heroes to me The nurse working at Harlem Hospital the old men sitting on Lenox Avenue the brilliant black children dancing through the streets of my sweet village The poets the lovers the musicians and those who sweat from day to day just to survive I have added photographs to the text because I love the images not to match the poems The images and the voices race through my mind in a sustained triumph of place and community I have written a poem that is an unabashed tribute to the poet W B Yeats in homage to his advice to playwright John Millington Synge He told Synge to write about a community that he could truly love whose people would gladden his heart For Synge it was the Aran Islands for me it is Harlem viii
Clara Brown’s Testimony Part I Everybody’s asking me why I’m always talking about Harlem Well child to me Harlem is like an old friend Sometimes she won’t do right or do exactly what you want her to do Sometimes she’s needy when you don’t have anything extra to be giving But you know what to expect from a real friend and that’s what Harlem has been to me And if you give to Harlem it always finds a way to give back When I hear music coming from the apartment windows or from the doors of a storefront church I know that’s Harlem giving me a gift And it’s music that’s more than just head music It’s music my soul remembers from way past what my brain knows about I love the people of Harlem too Yes that’s right all of them Because one by one they may not be that much But honey all together they’re Harlem and you can’t ask for more than that 1
Mali Evans 12 Student I’d like to be old one day Like Mrs Purvis with her gray Hair like a halo around her black face She says it’s her crown her tiara She walks slowly grandly Down the avenue as if the streets Were her queendom and even The winos smile and bow Or raise their hands in greeting I would like to be an ancient lady Tree-tough and deep-rooted In the rich soil of my dark Foreverness And the only thing white I would wear Is the crown about my Sweet black face 2
