Addisleigh Park, 173-07 murdock ave, Marianne S. Percival, LPC 1

In our enlightened age, we like to think that mid-20th century restrictive covenants in communities only apply to such quality of life rules as keeping a house a single family dwelling, mowing your lawn, not cutting down trees, or not painting your house purple. But the truth is a lot uglier. Most restricted covenants may have had other aesthetic by-products, but most were designed primarily to keep non-whites, Jews, and other ethnic groups from buying property in that community.

Interestingly enough, these restrictive covenants were written in the North, not in the South where we might expect to see them. Sad to say, the South didn’t need them. Communities were very segregated by means that were a lot stronger than any piece of paper. Jim Crow laws saw to that, and the threat of violence, and no protection for minorities under the law, was very real. Discrimination in the North was more subtle, but just as effective. As cities grew less desirable, and suburban life became the American Dream, more and more communities were developed in the new suburbs, and restrictive covenants were often par for the course. This was true even in New York City, the great Melting Pot.

The racial and religious restrictive covenants were backed up by the law of the land. During the Great Depression, the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) was created in 1934, designed to stimulate the housing industry by making low-interest, federally-insured long-term housing loans to homeowners. These loans were made through banks. The FHA and the banks recognized restrictive covenants, and had no penalties or proscriptions against them. Because of this recognition, the real estate industry began using FHA guidelines in developing a new rating system for neighborhoods.

Real estate companies measured neighborhoods by their restrictions. Both the FHA and the real estate industry reported that the restriction guidelines were necessary to safeguard neighborhood stability and property values in these tenuous times. The more restrictive the neighborhood, the higher the rating. The higher the rating, the higher the price of homes, and for homeowners, the security of knowing that their hard earned purchase was not going to be ruined by blacks or Jews moving in next door.

Back in the early 1920s, a lawyer turned developer named Edwin Brown began developing the enclave called Addisleigh Park in the St. Albans neighborhood of Queens. His early story was told in Part One. He worked with several different building companies, and over the course of the next few years, they built an entire neighborhood of primarily Tudor Revival, Colonial Revival and English Cottage style houses. All of the companies Brown worked with were building with Brown’s restrictive covenants well mentioned in their building guidelines, and later, in their advertising.

The result was blocks and blocks of attractive suburban homes. As per the covenant, the houses were set back from the street, they were well landscaped with trees, shrubs and flowers, and they were with specific sizes, number of stories, and other aesthetic choices designed to create a unique sense of place in Addisleigh Park. Some were much larger and fancier than others, there were even some suburban style attached houses. When they started advertising the homes for sale, the ads had language that signaled that the rest of the provisions of the covenant were in place, as well.

Addisleigh Park was designed to be a white community. They didn’t come right out and say that in the advertising, but it was right there in coded language, and in practice. The ads read: “The settlement is protected by rigid restrictions to insure the charm and beauty of the community.” Or, “the class of buyer in this suburban neighborhood measures up to a very high standard of living, and is of the highest type desired for homeowners.” Black domestics could come in daily, but they did not live in Addisleigh Park unless they worked there.

By the late 1930s, early 1940s, the restrictive covenants had been changed to reflect that no homeowner in Addisleigh Park could sell to Negro buyers. The white homeowners had to sign a document that was quite clear on the subject. It read: “No part of the land now owned by the parties hereto shall ever be used or occupied, or sold, conveyed, leased, rented, or given to Negros or any person or persons of the Negro race or blood or decent.” If you didn’t sign the covenant, you could not buy a home there. Having signed it, whether willingly or not, the homeowner was legally bound to that covenant. In 1942, Mr. and Mrs. Henry M. Neely were going to put that to the test.

The Neely’s owned 112-29 175th Place, an unprepossessing Colonial Revival style house in Addisleigh Park. They had their home on the market and had accepted the offer of an African American buyer. When the neighbors found out about the upcoming sale, they sued the Neely’s to stop the sale. The case, Drury et al v. Neely et ux, ended up in State Supreme Court, under Justice Thomas J. Cuff. The Neely’s and their attorneys argued that the covenant violated the state and federal Constitutions, specifically the 14th Amendment, which guaranteed equal protection under the law, among other things.

They had several other arguments, far less strong, but the 14th Amendment was the biggie. Amazingly, Justice Cuff ruled against them, and dismissed their 14th Amendment argument. His ruling states that “the ‘race, color and creed’ provisions in our Federal and State Constitutions place inhibitions upon the nation, the states and their municipal subdivisions; they have no application to private transactions.” The Neely’s could not sell their home to a black buyer.

But that only meant determined African Americans had to work harder. The covenant had holes in it. If a non-Caucasian was an occupant (except as an employee) for more than four months, the clause was nullified. I suppose the house was tainted. The Neely family had been renting the house to the black family for more than four months. That was technically forbidden, but they had done it anyway and gotten away with it. And the Neely’s hadn’t been the only ones to do that.

Once this started, in no time, the white flight began. Black residents slowly integrated Addisleigh Park. Some of them pulled one of the oldest blockbusting tricks on the books. They had white proxy buyers buy the homes for them. It was an ironic move that had been used in Harlem and other neighborhoods back in the early 1900s, when proxy black buyers were buying homes for white landlords, who in turn charged more money for the black tenants that poured into the waiting homes and apartments.

The homeowners of Addisleigh Park amended their restrictive covenant in 1939. It now had restrictions that would keep black buyers out until 1975. Eighteen homeowners signed it, including Sophie Rubin. But in 1947, she was in contract to sell her home to Samuel Richardson, another African American buyer. As before, the neighbors sued to stop the sale. Kemp v. Rubin was heard by another State Supreme Court judge, Justice Livingston.

He was much more sympathetic towards Mrs. Rubin and her argument – once again, that the covenant was illegal and against the principles of the 14th Amendment. But in the end, he stated that he had to rule for the other side, as he could not argue with the previous ruling that the restrictive covenant, as racist as it was, was still legal. He did note the irony inherent here. As they gathered in the courtroom, the covenant had already been broken. By 1947, there were 45 black families already living in Addisleigh Park. They had legally purchased homes one way or another, or were renting, many paying well above asking prices for the privilege.

But all that changed in 1948, when the Supreme Court of the United States heard the case of Shelly v. Kraemer. It was a restrictive covenant case. They ruled that “the restrictive agreements standing along cannot be regarded as a violation of any rights guaranteed to [African Americans] by the Fourteenth Amendment. The enforcement of these private agreements by state courts denied [African Americans] the equal protection of the laws and that, therefore, the action of the state courts cannot stand.” The case of Kemp v. Rubin was appealed, and overturned. Restrictive covenants were now illegal and unenforceable by law. Addisleigh Park was open to anyone who could afford to live there.

By 1952, white homeowners had sold in droves, getting out as fast as they could without looking more ridiculous than they already did. The homes in Addisleigh Park were not cheap, and the black buyers were affluent enough, or had saved enough, to buy the homes, just like in every other suburb or neighborhood. That year, in 1952, an African American oriented magazine called Our World did a twelve page spread on Addisleigh Park. They wrote about “Tiny Addisleigh, swanky suburb [that] is home of the nation’s richest and most gifted Negroes.” The neighborhood was now almost entirely black.

It was also home to some of America’s most famous African Americans. Musicians, actors, athletes and other celebrities rubbed shoulders and shared fences with many not-so-famous, but successful people. They put Addisleigh Park on the map. We’ll talk about them in the conclusion of our story, next time.

(Photograph:173-07 Murdock Ave. Marianne S. Percival for Landmarks Preservation Commission)

GMAP

112-29 175th Place, former Neely house. Photo: Google Maps
112-29 175th Place, former Neely house. Photo: Google Maps
114-49 -114-59 180th Street. Photo: Theresa C. Noonan for LPC
114-49 -114-59 180th Street. Photo: Theresa C. Noonan for LPC

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