Moore Better Blues

NEWS AND OPINION > COVER STORY

A North Philly rec center, once slated for closure, now serves as a model for community renewal.

By Cassidy Hartmann

Add Comment | Comments: 0 | Posted Jun. 6, 2007

Photographs by Jeff Fusco

"You ain't that cool, Khalil. You ain't that cool with those glasses and that gum--take those off," says Hellen McCollum to a gangly strutting 7-year-old in dark sunglasses and a school uniform that looks two sizes too big.

Khalil grins, magenta gum dangling from between his teeth. Quickly the glasses come off and the books come out, as other students filter into the cozily cluttered room at the Cecil B. Moore Recreation Center, thrusting themselves into seats with the kind of exhaustion and pent-up energy that consumes a child's body on sticky school-day afternoons when summer screams out from everywhere.

These kids, who come from local public, charter and Catholic schools, will finish their homework, then head outside for tennis lessons followed by an African drumming class in the rec center's newly furbished auditorium. Outside older boys play a heated game of basketball on a brand-new court with fresh nets and pearly white backboards.

Things didn't used to be like this. Just two years ago the Cecil B. Moore Recreation Center--which sits just off the corner of 22nd and Lehigh in one of North Philadelphia's most troubled neighborhoods--was barely operational. Years of neglect and community indifference had left the 6.8-acre 84-year-old recreation center a crumbling shell.

"The living conditions were deplorable," says McCollum, who's volunteered at the center for more than 35 years and now serves as vice president of its advisory council. "The gym floor was puckering, the auditorium roof was leaking, the outdoor basketball court was cracking ... "

In 2004 the city compiled a list of 46 recreation centers, 40 summer camps, 20 swimming pools and all five of the city's ice rinks to be closed due to funding shortages. Cecil B. Moore, named for the fiery '60s local civil rights leader, was on the list for closure.

"I said, 'They will not close my center and my pool--no way in the world,'" says McCollum, who learned of the impending closure in the newspaper. "Our kids in the summer, it's like where you gonna go, what are you gonna do when it's 90 degrees out there?"

McCollum grew up in the '50s down the block from Cecil B. Moore, back when it was called Fun Filled and then Connie Mack. She climbed its jungle gym, swam in its pool, and took dance and pottery lessons there. The rec was the heart of life in the thriving community, particularly during the summer months.

Back then the neighborhood was home to a wide variety of ethnic groups, sustained by the presence of legendary Connie Mack Stadium at 21st and Lehigh, and two powerhouse Catholic churches nearby.