A few months ago I attended an outdoor concert in Harlem that was a part of the Summerstage series of events in public parks throughout NYC. I previously reported about the show here, as I went with camera in hand and took photos and a few video clips of the show. The Miguel Atwood-Ferguson ensemble band was performing and a friend of mine, Brandee Younger, was one of the many musicians playing in the band. After the show there was an after party at hotel “ALoft” on 124th Street, right smack dead in the heart of Harlem. The hotel is across the street from Magic Theater and walking distance to The Apollo. In attending the after party, I was lucky enough to win a raffle where the prize was a free hotel weekend stay at the fairly new hotel. After a few months, I finally took advantage of the offer toward the end of October.
I’ve always been fascinated with Harlem. Growing up reading about all its rich history, especially The Harlem Renaissance with all the great writers like James Baldwin, Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes and painters like Romare Bearden, all the great thinkers like Marcus Garvey and Malcolm X who called this very place home at one point in their life. All the great jazz musicians who lived and played in Harlem and were on the steps of that historical “A Great Day in Harlem” portrait. So to be able stay a weekend at a hotel in the midst of that history was great.
The first day I stayed at the hotel, one thing I found interesting was a group of folks marching down 125th Street in memoriam of Muammar Gaddafi who had just been killed a couple days prior. My thought was of Gaddafi’s historical support of The Nation of Islam and The Nation’s great presence in Harlem. Never a dull moment on 125th Street, it’s such a lively place to be with the vendors lined up all along the strip. I bought some all natural black soap and a new mango butter one I hadn’t seen before from one of the vendors. They were 2 for $5 and it had been a while since I’d used natural body soap. I always remembered it had been good on my skin and keeping it from being dry. I also bought a new “Fela in NYC” about Fela Kuti’s historical visit to NYC in the 80′s to perform at a few venues.
The next day, a Sunday, I looked up the hours of Studio Museum to see what they had on exhibit. I’d always wanted to go this museum, having always passed by it but never going in. My timing was perfect because it was the last day of the exhibition of The Spiral Group. The group was an artist collective who made art inspired by events during the civil rights movement. A few of the artists on display was Romare Bearden, Merton D. Simpson and Charles Alston. The artwork was fascinating, especially since they were abstract works dealing with social issues. Also on display was an interesting photo exhibit by photographer Lyle Ashton Harris, who shot a series of polaroids over a period of 10 years. I hadn’t even planned it this way but I was lucky enough to catch all of this on “Target Free Sundays” so there was no admission.
Just before I left the hotel I’d gotten two recommendations to check out the new restaurant Red Rooster right there in Harlem. I’d never heard of the place and searched online to find out the location and hours. It just happened to be a few blocks away, so I ended up walking there after the museum. Brunch was being served when I got in and it seemed to be packed so I took a seat at the bar to order. Having the taste for a belgian waffle I almost ordered the next best thing -french toast. The waiter said it was good, but I figured I’d try that another time. I decided on the Biscuits and Red Eye Gravy and a side of mashed potatoes which turned out to be amazing. I thought about my uncle who told me a story about how as a kid him and his friends used to run around with biscuits in their pockets, eating them with syrup as if they were candy. One of the funniest visuals I ever got from a story. The dish turned out to be way more than I expected. I anticipated just a couple biscuits with a side bowl of gravy to dip them in. The presentation on this dish was great. The biscuits were sliced across the center, with the bottom halves covered by the gravy served in a bowl and the top halves sitting above the gravy. Sitting next to me was an elderly woman, having witnessed how quickly I was consuming the delicious meal, who asked me what I ordered. She told me she had ordered the smorgasbord but really wanted the crab cakes that were only served for lunch. She eventually introduced herself to me as Blanche Jordan. When I didn’t quite hear her first name, she repeated it to me and said that it was an old name. I joked and said that I knew of one other Blanche, the one from The Golden Girls. She laughed hysterically and that’s when she told me she was 96 years old. It certainly took me for surprise, I’d have never guessed with the way she conversed she was that age. I’d actually never met anyone who had lived that long, in my family or otherwise. Longevity seemed to run in her family, mentioning that she just tried to stay active and up to date on everything going on. She noticed the evolution of Harlem over many years, having been a resident there since she was 19 years old. She became a nurse, going through the nursing program of what would later become The Harlem Hospital Center. Later on after nursing school she told me she attended NYU, furthering her education in nursing. That’s when I told her I had a friend who recently graduated from NYU from their journalism program. Blanche told me that she really liked the faculty there when she was a student and had the option to go to Columbia but it didn’t appeal to her, and it also was too expensive. I began to think what it must have been like for her in the 30’s and 40’s, a Black woman seeking higher education. Then I thought about all of the history she actually lived through in Harlem. The Harlem Renaissance with all the great writers, poets, musicians and artists, she was actually there to witness it while it was happening. The speeches of Malcolm X on the corners of Harlem, there’s a good chance she was right there live in the flesh. It blew my mind. There were so many things I wanted to ask her and of course some of them came after she had already left. I told her my aunt was a nurse as well and that my mother had moved to the city at a young age like she did, but from the south. She immediately suggested that it must have been to escape the environment of the south at that time and added that she never was fond of the south. She was also intrigued when I mentioning that my aunt had also studied natural herbs, bringing up that she had just watched a special on TV about an herb that was good for your memory; Ginkgo Biloba. As we were talking, over walks the chef Marcus Samuelsson. I had only known him as “the celebrity chef”, having no clue but finding out later that he owned the restaurant. Coincidentally just a few weeks prior I there was a discussion at the Brooklyn Museum I wanted to go to that he was a part of along with Mos Def and artist Sanford Biggers. I missed it after tickets sold out, so it was interesting to bump into him in this manner and so I asked him how that event went. I like to call it one of my omens. Marcus had come over to acknowledge Blanche and thank her for stopping by to enjoy brunch. He asked if she had been to the original Red Rooster, in which she had been several times. She had told me earlier that the original Red Rooster speakeasy was located a few blocks down the street and that you had to go downstairs to the restaurant area to eat. This detail seemed rather important to her when she described it, something I’d like to learn more about it’s significance. Marcus said he had created Red Rooster inspired by her generation and thanked her again for coming to support. There was so much love and appreciation for her that by the time her check came to sign a gentlemen across the bar had already paid for her tab. She said that people were always so generous to her and her group of friends when they’re there. They call themselves The LOL’s (Little Old Ladies), one of the funniest things i’ve heard in a long time. After hearing that, I’d come to the conclusion that keeping a good sense of humor has to add a few years to your life.
After I helped Blanche put on her coat, I told her I appreciated the great conversation. After that she walked right out of the door and into the city bus just like everyone else in line. I was so impressed with my experience, I told a friend about it who later came to join me there later that evening for their Sunday night live jazz with the band The Nate Lucas Quartet. That weekend in Harlem was so memorable, even the $60 parking ticket that sat on my windshield the following morning didn’t bother me. Maybe just a little…
