This greeting was scrawled on the large sign on the parkway which announced that one had just left the Baltimore-Washington airport and was approaching Baltimore.
Larry Gibson via his prot�g� Mayor Kurt Smoke was incensed! Immediately, it was removed, but not before more than a few were pleasantly reminded of the history of Baltimer. Mencken would have been delighted, to think that his Baltimore survives in spite of all those that wanted to separate themselves from its roots.
Baltimer, indeed. Why as the public street benches at the bus stops, proclaimed so proudly; "Baltimore, the city that reeds". Oh, well.
Baltimore was in the beginning and remains so today, a city of ethnic families that have retained their heritage. And in the process its individuality.
The street where many of Baltimore's Jewish families first had their start in America is Eutaw Place. Lest you believe that the marbled stepped row-houses were home to only the rich and famous, be reminded that these three level homes with full basement were often filled with not only the proud owners but immigrants that worked to pay the cost of their transportation to this new beginning. (Our row house was not particularly outstanding but was representative of many on upper Eutaw. Harold Dermer's aunt had lived there and on the third floor was evidence of her presence. In the cracks of the floor-boards were many pins which had been dropped and lost as she and others had worked to produce fine dresses and other apparel.)
As Eutaw Place developed in the late 1890s, it was a broad avenue with a center island on which large oaks and other trees grew. Statues abounded.2 Corner places were the most prestigious. On two particular facing corners, prominent department store owners had their residences. Rivalry was intense. Mr. Huxler had a large stained-glass window mounted in the second floor window of his massive brick and stone edifice. The window faced east so positioned that Mr. Hecht would be reminded of Mr. Huxler's presence each day as he awoke and looked out his bedroom window. These "jew-jews" as they were (and are called) by residents of joining neighborhoods, were instrumental in establishing Baltimore as more than just another port city. They imparted civic pride, culture, and financial acumen to the city as it emerged from the wilderness of the Patapsco and other rivers.
We owe much to H. L. Mencken for recording the maturing of Baltimer, the Eastern Shore and the rest of this lovely state. And so it passed from 1890 to1940, suffering the woes of the First World War, the devastating influenza epidemic, the depression and the Second World War.
Following the second war, Baltimer offered homes to those returning and for their growing families. Often several families shared one of these row houses as they were vacated by the richer citizens. The area began its decline. When the civil rights movement reached its flash-point, the remaining Jewish residents fled. Entire blocks were abandoned as no one cared to live in an area where violence became a part of life. Surprisingly, the synagogue at the top of the hill survived, but only by relaxing the requirement that participants travel on foot.
This is a history of Baltimore, we would like to forget. But it is so, and actually serves as a foundation on which to build.
Parts of Baltimer's past are still being discovered. Under Fort McHenry, tunnels were discovered. The archeologist, etc., were assembled expecting to find no doubt, skeletons, treasures and other delights. They were disappointed, the only findings were wine and whiskey bottles. Of course, in true Baltimer fashion, they were empty!
But Baltimer is more than history or just another port city. It is a mineral rich area. At the turn of the century (according to Harold who worked in the local asbestos mines) it was also source of the marble for those famous steps, and even today; one, if lucky, may find gold in the streams within some of the local parks.) Baltimer was a working class city. Where else can you find the police station on the same block with places that advertise; "girls, girls, girls". This was the home of Sally Rand. Baltimer has the flavor of a port of call. Along the shore line of the inner-harbor are abandoned factories that owed their life to access to the ocean. But it is not desolate as the real estate people tell us; "it's location, location, location". Under the guidance of the past Governor who never forgot his Baltimer roots, or the fighting, round lady from East Baltimer (Barbra Mcluskey) who so well represents her district, Baltimer thrives!
There is much to see in Baltimer. Where to begin?
Unless the pols destroy it, Baltimer's library should be on your list of places to visit. There under the not so watchful eye of the librarian on the second floor, you can actually read newspapers and other materials that are more than a century old. Savor Baltimore as known to E. A. Poe and later by H. L. Mencken. When these treasures are gone, they will be gone, but isn't it better that some should have derived pleasure from actually touching a bit of the past.
You may be impressed by Camden Station, the aquarium, shops in tourist trap - Fells Point, or the inner-harbor. There is also the zoo, the best railroad museum probably in the world, and of course HLM's home. Having said all that, it is Baltimer's ethnic neighborhoods that still remain its major attraction.
With ethnic groups, comes their food and nowhere can you find such a variety so close at hand. As expected seafood is supreme. I believe we were put here on earth to control overpopulation by blue crabs and once in Baltimer, it is our duty to dispatch as many in as many ways as possible. The possibilities are endless, and the city residents do their best but need help. There is nothing more interesting to behold than a ladies bridge club sitting down to all-you-can-eat, piles of steamed crabs and with their mouths so full of lump-meat that they can hardly speak, work diligently for over an hour to make the crabs disappear. To add insult to injury, the place (it does it no justice to call it a restaurant) may provide heaps of roasten-ears when they are in season, at no additional charge.
Or belly up to the bar at Lexington Square Market and eat as many oysters as you can. The shucker will easily out pace you after the first dozen or so. (For those health-wary individuals, I can only quote; "eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may die". You couldn't choose a better place for your launch into the unknown.)
While I don't really care for German food, Hausner's is the place out-of-town guest must see. It is a museum far outshining any of the public museums. How can this be? The family uses the restaurant as storage for only a part of the works of art they have accumulated over the century. You can sit next to marble bust of J. Caesar, G. Washington, French notables, the names of which I haven't the foggiest idea of why they would be immortalized in stone, &c. Actually touch paintings that are several hundred years old, admire glass ware that puts the Corning Museum to shame, and when you think you have seen it all, there's the second floor where the worlds largest painting on canvas is displayed. (Actually only a part is displayed, it is a diorama of a battle between the Turks and who knows whom(?). The entire fighting force seems to have been assembled in full battle armaments for this oil that is over one hundred feet long and hangs from ceiling to floor.)
On exiting from whichever restaurant you may have chosen, you find yourself on the streets of Baltimer. HLM gave only a passing shot to one of the city's rapidly disappearing trademarks, the Araber. These enterprising blacks have traveled the neighborhoods of Baltimer from its beginning. A small pony, bedecked with gear that would make P. T. Barnum green with envy, pulls a cart equally well decorated and perfectly maintained. The greengrocer, for this is what the Araber is, offers only the best of the vegetables, fruits, and other foodstuffs of the area. Until you have bought a flat of strawberries or a dozen ears of corn from these gentlemen, you haven't really obtained the best that is to be had. If you enjoy fresh, you can close your eyes and smell the aroma of fresh picked corn, strawberries bursting with flavor or peaches (which come from New Jersey and Pennsylvania when in season) from which escapes a steady stream of juice when you first take a bite, the juice trickling down you arm and dripping off your elbow. Or tomatoes that still have the smell of the green vine from which they were just picked this day.
So before all is lost in the name of political correctness, Welcome to Baltimer, Hon! Ain't you hongry yet.
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(1) A guide to eating your way around Baltimore.
(2) Unfortunately, during the second world war, they were sacrificed to the war effort and were melted down. None remain.
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