This has been a year of reunions for me. This past summer I attended my 40-year high school reunion an event which covered those friends from grade school through high school. Next month is the 40 year reunion for those who were fortunate enough to have survived the South Street Renaissance A gathering of counter culture drawn from all areas of Philadelphia
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| 528 S.4th..the apartment |
My First Apartment
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| South Steet Boat Ride |
South Street….It seems like yesterday or centuries ago, I am not sure. I think it’s appropriate that a duality exists in my recollection of the years that I lived at 528 S 4th St... I still have dreams about my apartment, I can in my minds eye still walk in that door again as if no intervening years had occurred. I will never again experience the feeling of commonality of purpose and the artistic fervor of the years I lived on South St. It was a very exciting period of my life. After a cup of coffee and my dream state dissolves, I have to laugh out loud, Are you kidding? That roach infested 65-buck month dump, glad that's over! [the duality]Sentiment has a way of making even the worse scenarios seem endearing. Sure I miss those "Good ole days” I had nothing, just my clothes a few treasured trash finds and a great deal of creative energy.What I did have,that money could never buy, was large band of other creative types within four city blocks. Being twenty-one years old then was a great deal of fun. It was tough surviving but no tougher than the present [which is no fun at all] We had friends and you could always find a meal,the communal 60's were still alive and we all helped each other through hard times, after all "When you got nothing you have nothing to lose" is the difference, things are a good deal more complicated now.
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| Garrick |
I was attending P.C.A. [the only name I ever use] It certainly was not the “University of the Arts” when I attended. I remember clearly walking into Stein Real Estate on third just south of South St. to inquire as to the availability of apartments. Stein cigar in mouth peered over his glasses, “Whatcha want kid” an apartment I replied, “What’s yer price range” something under a hundred… “Figures” he muttered, “You in Art school?”, yes sir, I said trying hard to be polite because I hated him already,”Yeah I got one but don’t go thinkin yer painting the walls black or any of that hippie stuff ya hear?”…Leo hated the influx of art types that had replaced all the prosperous merchants of his heyday on South St. that sure didn’t stop him from renting some of the worse pits imaginable. “65 bucks a month, 2 months rent up front” as he threw the keys on the counter,”528 4th second floor, go let yerself in”, the phone rang as he motioned me out the door, “and bring the keys back when yer done! Ya hear me!” yes sir and fuck you very much I thought, Philly was sooo polite and genteel [not really] living in the art students ghetto. I certainly did not share my excitement about the prospect of living on S.S. with Leo, for fear he would raise the rent. Where am I going to get 2 months rent 130 bucks was a lot of money, I was only making 2.75 an hour working part time for the Peasant Shop on Spruce St. no matter,
I can hit Dad for a few bucks, [I really miss my parents]  |
| Elizabeth,John Waters and Divine at Lickety |
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| La Banane |
As the now lockless door swung open, I got the full view of the ingenious décor, day glow shades of neon blue, orange and green, punctuated with black, I realized immediately why Leo made disparaging remarks about art students, it seems this apartment was the cause. The color scheme was a minor issue compared to the flooring. As some of you may remember Klinghoffer’s carpets used to occupy the corner of Leithgow and South right around the corner. It seems in a drug-induced moment of creativity the previous tenants came up with a brilliant solution. After a few dumpster dives yielded up a number of carpet sample books they were disassembled and individually NAILED to the floors in a pattern not unlike the patchwork jackets which were then in vogue.A nightmare especially because of the number of dogs and cats, which left their fur coats behind, sprinkled liberally all over everything Another unique feature was a wall in the front room the inhabitants had attempted to remove the plaster to expose the brick. After a large area had been completed the project was abandoned,[ due to the difficulty of removing plaster applied directly to brick] Im sure they returned to their carpet installation which was easier.The rest of the flat was equally unique in its poetic urban decay. The bathroom contained an extremely dingy legged tub, a toilet that must have dated to Ben Franklins posterior and a sink with separate taps for luke warm and freezing. The kitchen was alive with a number of residents that paid no mind to the change in management. The gas stove had seen way too many briskets and the icebox was just that, a box with a HUGH glacier that occupied two thirds of the interior. The window sashes were all missing the counterweight ropes [requiring the stick a book to hold it open technique] What am I getting myself into? I thought, my suburban Cleveland upbringing had not prepared me for anything like this. When I look back upon that first day on South St.I muse to myself that without the naiveté of youth my tenure there would have never occurred. I threw myself blindly into a renovation [solely at my expense] Cohen’s hardware [of course] was responsible for many South St face-lifts including mine. The JW thrift [my decorator of choice]provided all the mohair sofas and Maxfield Parrish prints, one needed to create the perfect retro statement that was de’riquer in the mid 70’s, [it's hard to believe that all that stuff used to sell for five bucks or less] Boy! have things changed.
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| South Street Block Party '74' |
All my labor did pay off when I was asked to participate in the annual “Hippie House Tour”, an ironic twist considering I had completely eradicated the original hippie interior. Time moves on and South St moved with it. The house tours opened that secret enclave of the terminally creative to the eyes of Philadelphia at large and some say that was the beginning of the end .I for one will never forget my fellow "Urban Pioneers" and the sense of community that was South St. “The Hippest Street in Town”
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