They used to tell jokes about Freys Avenue in York.
The rats were so big, they chased the cats out of the houses.
The rats were so mean, they not only ate the cheese, but the traps, too.
By the unwritten rule of segregated housing, York's blacks lived in such ghettos. But this was the worst of the worst -- a strip of 54 turn-of-the-century row houses of which 35 had no showers or bathtubs, 37 had no hot water and 42 were considered fire hazards.
Some had been scheduled for urban renewal before Mayor John Snyder took office in 1962.
York, in the late 1950s, was an early leader in the concept. The Gates House and Plough Tavern on West Market Street were rehabilitated with federal assistance in 1959, and York was the first third-class city in the state to have a full-time housing inspector.
But after Snyder became mayor, he made it clear new redevelopment projects would not be approved. He said he feared loss of local control would accompany federal programs.
Snyder was even taken to court for his refusal to allow redevelopment of the huge factory on North George Street that had once belonged to A.B. Farquhar. Part of it would be used for moderate-income housing provided with federal assistance. The tract was eventually redeveloped, but not until Snyder left office.
By February 1967, the city's housing codes mandated such basic measures as fire escapes on buildings three stories or more and rodent-proof walls. But city officials had not implemented them.
While other cities had large planning bureaus and code inspection offices, York's was a skeleton crew -- just one inspector and his assistant. Though the housing code had been on the books since 1957, only one person had ever been fined.
In April 1967, Housing Inspector Ken Ellis urged Snyder to take advantage of a federal program that would pay two-thirds of the cost of a concentrated code enforcement program and provide up to $1,500 for poor families to repair their homes.
Under pressure from black leaders, Snyder had even agreed to take a tour of unsafe housing. In one building, he fell through the floor.
Still, he wanted nothing to do with federal money.
"You'll get more people to go on the dole if you keep up with this stuff," Snyder said. "I do not think that people should give money to other people to help him fix up his house. Let him go out and work for it."
And so York was largely left out of the Great Society.
A rising tide of militants
In the summer of 1967, inner cities across America were in flames. Newark erupted in race rioting, as did Detroit.
"Any American city ... has the element of inequity in it that can cause riots," Whitney M. Young, executive director of the Urban League, told a congressional committee.
But an uneasy peace prevailed in York.
There were little for the kids -- black or white -- to do. The Crispus Attucks Center was in bad need of repair and closed most of the time. York Catholic High School didn't hold Thursday-night dances anymore. If kids wanted live music or dancing, they had to go to Lancaster.
Mostly, the whites hung around Continental Square, the blacks a few blocks away in Penn Common.
There was drinking and a lot of anger in the park. In July, one black youth told a reporter, "If the cops come around here some night and start shoving guys around, there's going to be a war on."
Theodore Holmes, co-chairman of the local Congress of Racial Equality chapter, noticed the anger.
"You first of all get a rejection of the system, then all you need is a spark," Holmes said. "We've been beating our drums, asking for police review boards, more jobs, better housing and being accepted. But now we're just shutting up."
A few dozen black teenagers formed the Black Unity Movement in 1967. The group, modeled after the Black Panthers, encouraged blacks not to talk to police if questioned and to defend each other "by any means necessary."
Crispus Attucks officials tried to derail a black-power rally in August. The militants again criticized officials and clergy for their lack of action. They began to attend Crispus Attucks meetings, intimidating the white majority that sat on the board of directors.
Led by the militant Ocania Chalk, they tried to take over the leadership, holding their own board meeting and electing officers, but the move was deemed legally questionable and ignored by the center.
The Crispus Attucks board met in January 1968 and five blacks were elected as members. But by then Chalk and the militants had given up.
When the NAACP held a workshop on race a few months later, CORE and the other militants boycotted it.
Around the same time, city police were attending "mob and riot-control school."
There had already been trouble, when two police officers were injured in a fracas following a William Penn football game on Sept. 16, 1966. Black teenagers walking home from the game on North George Street swarmed around officers trying to arrest one of them, kicking one officer and pushing the other down a stairwell.
In October 1967, a minor "disorder" broke out, again after a football game, when three blacks, including a Marine sergeant, were arrested for disorderly conduct. An officer walked a dog into a crowd of young blacks walking home from the game, and the kids began to throw rocks at him.
Police, too, were getting frustrated. Four days after the 1966 incident, officers petitioned the city council for higher wages. Police salaries started at just $4,945 a year, reaching $5,445 in three years. Sgt. Wayne Ruppert told the council officers were being "kicked around pretty regularly."
And several months later, Lt. Stephen Gibbs, head of the K-9 Corps, and the other six dog officers asked the city to disband their division.
"We ... did not realize that so many members of the police department did not care for the Corps, and also that the city of York thought it was doing us a favor by allowing us to have a K-9 Division," Gibbs said.
Snyder did nothing.
FAIR USE NOTICE: This page contains copyrighted material the use of which has not been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. NoNonsense English offers this material non-commercially for research and educational purposes. I believe this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in 17 U.S.C § 107. If you wish to use copyrighted material from this site for purposes of your own that go beyond fair use, you must obtain permission from the copyright owner, i.e. the media service or newspaper which first published the article online and which is indicated at the top of the article unless otherwise specified.