jews d in the WALTER P. REUTHER LIBRARY, WAYNE STATE UNIVERSITY continued from page 13 Detroit’s “Wailing Wall” Built to separate black and white neighborhoods, the concrete wall still stands today. ROBIN SCHWARTZ CONTRIBUTING WRITER TOP: The Detroit Wall, 1951. INSET: Teresa Moon has lived around Detroit’s “Wailing Wall” since age 6. She learned its true meaning — to separate houses owned by blacks from new white subdivisions — when she was 15. Ben Falik Jeff Horner Y ou don’t have to travel far or look too hard to find a stark reminder of racial segregation in Detroit. Just a short distance from Royal Oak, Oak Park and Southfield, near Eight Mile and Wyoming, there is a park and play- ground bordered by a mural-filled wall. The artwork is colorful, whimsical and uplifting with sketches of hous- es, people and symbols of peace. But there is more to this scene than meets the eye. The 6-foot con- crete wall that traverses the Alfonso Wells Memorial playground along Birwood Street also has an ugly side. “This is governmentally sanc- tioned apartheid,” explains Jeff Horner, a senior lecturer with Wayne State University’s Department of Urban Studies and Planning. “The government actually saw fit to put in a barrier to separate the races.” Detroit’s “Wailing Wall,” also known as the “Eight Mile Wall” dates back to 1941. It was built to satisfy the Federal Housing Authority, which would not guarantee housing loans in “undesirable” neighbor- hoods. At the time, that meant communities with mostly African American or Jewish families. So, a developer proposed building the half-mile wall as a dividing line meant to keep black families out. The FHA approved the loans and construction began. “At least in some parts of history there’s a narrative of the federal gov- ernment as an agent of progress and there are examples of that,” says Ben Falik, former manager of Detroit service initiatives for the Jewish social action group Repair the World. “Then, there are concrete examples of when the federal government required and sanctioned segregation, and not just in the South; this is right here in Detroit.” Falik often brought groups of student volunteers to the wall for a firsthand look at the city’s history. Parts are not covered with art and look exactly as it did 75 years ago. Teresa Moon grew up with the wall. Her family moved there in 1959, when she was just 6 years old. She still lives on the street today. “We had no idea it was a seg- regation wall,” Moon says. “My parents never talked about it and neither did my grandmother.” Teresa was about 15 when she finally learned why the wall was really there. She says it serves as a painful reminder at a time when our country is still very much divided. “I can’t take away what it is,” she says. “I can’t not tell the kids who are growing up over here what it is and why they built it.” While not much is known about the Jewish community’s response when the wall was built, history pro- fessor Lila Corwin Berman recounts one instance where a Jewish builder tried to extend the wall for his own benefit. In her book, Metropolitan Jews: Politics, Race and Religion in Postwar Detroit, Berman writes that Harry Slatkin tried to convince city leaders to go along with the plan. “Slatkin had hoped he might snake the wall around the property he owned to protect his investment from black settlement,” she writes. “The city rejected his 1953 effort to elongate the wall.” “STUFF STILL HAPPENS” Moon says while it may be subtler today, “stuff still happens” to keep people apart. “There are some places in this surrounding community I won’t go because I know I’m not going to be treated fairly, and that’s like a few miles from here,” she says. “Is it ever going to change? Are we ever going to be where the color of my skin is not going to matter? I’m 63 years old and I can’t see that will happen in my lifetime, and that’s sad. It brings tears to my eyes.” She remains hopeful things will improve, especially for the younger generation. Moon recalls being a junior high school student in 1967, when she met and spoke to white students for the first time. “That’s when they started bus- ing kids,” Moon recalls. “That was my first experience going to school with white kids — and they were white Jewish kids. It was an experience because neither one of us knew anything about the other one. I hadn’t been close to a white person ever in my life.” Detroit’s Wailing Wall runs through a community that remains predominantly African American. Horner says, unfortunately, the lingering lesson of the wall is still relevant and timely today, more than seven decades later. “The lesson is let people live wherever they want to live,” he says. “Eliminate racial prejudice and hatred — and I think every- thing will be fine.” • band bought a house on Snowden near Schaefer in Northwest Detroit. “People moved out quietly in the summer and at night,” she recalls. “Real estate agents had a lot to do with clean- ing people out. They distributed fliers that said, ‘Sell why you can.’” Ira Harris, 78, a retired lawyer and Huntington Woods resident, grew up on Birchcrest and attended Hampton and Mumford High School. He lived in Detroit until the 1980s. “It doesn’t take much to stir people to white flight; they feared black people,” Harris says. He, too, remembers scare tac- tics by real estate agents, some Jewish, who warned homeowners: “You better Ira Harris sell now before it [the hous- ing price] goes through the cellar.” Ruth Kahn, 89, who has lived in Detroit’s Green Acres neighborhood since 1957, says, “I never talked about it with anyone. They had a little more money so they moved to the suburbs.” By 1965, half of all Detroit Jews lived in the suburbs, according to Berman in Metropolitan Jews, and some Detroit-based synagogues and temples had moved as Ruth Kahn well. Congregation Shaarey Zedek built a sanctuary and school in Southfield in 1962, a move that was quite controversial, according to Judge Cohn, and which was reportedly not approved by Shaarey Zedek’s Rabbi Morris Adler. Kathleen Straus, a Downtown Detroit resident, recalls Temple Beth El’s mem- bership vote to purchase land for a new suburban location. “I was one of only 14 members who voted against the move,” she says. The temple completed a new building in Bloomfield Hills in 1973. DEDICATED TO OPEN HOUSING While many Jewish Detroiters were leav- ing for the suburbs, Jewish organizations and religious leaders had actively sup- ported efforts to provide equal housing opportunities for all Detroiters. They were mindful that discriminatory hous- ing covenants and deed restrictions had been used against Jews not many years before and were still in effect in some suburbs. Mel Ravitz, initially an employee of the Detroit City Planning Commission, was elected to the City Council in 1961 — the first Jewish member since 1920. He was dedicated to open housing, stating that “only in a liberal community can there be real freedom and security for Jews.” continued on page 16 14 January 26 • 2017 jn