'Change...or Submit to the Wrecking Ball'
How Ed Bacon and the courts erased Philadelphia's Fifth Ward
In the 1950s, Ed Bacon, Philadelphia’s lead city planner, sought to transform the city's Fifth Ward.
The Fifth Ward was a working class neighborhood, home to a tight-knit community of immigrants and racial minorities.
Bacon wanted to make the neighborhood into an upscale enclave that leaned on its colonial past and attracted rich white suburbanites.
He began calling it Society Hill.
His urban renewal plan became world famous, landing him on the cover of Time Magazine in 1964.
But his project also deepened Philadelphia's racial and cultural inequalities. Over the 1960s, the neighborhood's residents—most of whom were Black or Eastern European immigrants—were pushed out.
The Fifth Ward changed from one of the city's poorest neighborhoods into one of its wealthiest. 1
This project will do a deep dive into the history of one building in the Fifth Ward.
In doing so, it will reveal the racial tensions and lack of clarity that guided Bacon's project—and forced longtime residents from the community they loved.
In October 1964, the Boslover Ahavas Achim Belzer Association (Boslover) had a decision to make.
For years, the fraternal Jewish organization had used Boslover Hall, a three-story building on 701 Pine Street, as a hub for cultural celebrations and charity work.
The organization relied on renting out the building’s meeting room—often to diverse cultural groups from across the city—in order to pay its bills.
Boslover Hall became a gathering place for the Hispanic community, who used the space to host celebrations, such as for this 1945 show. 2
Boslover received close to $10,000 a year from rentals, which is equivalent to about $90,000 today. 3
But then, the Philadelphia Redevelopment Authority delivered an ultimatum.
Stop renting out your building or we’ll demolish it.
The ultimatum may have been racially motivated.
Records indicate that the Fifth Ward's white residents—who Bacon sought to attract—had lodged racist complaints against the cultural groups who would rent out Boslover's space.
Boslover sued, claiming the rental prohibition would bankrupt it.
Boslover lost.
In 1967, the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania upheld the Redevelopment Authority’s decision.
Boslover could no longer rent out its building.
Four years later, Boslover was gone.
It had left the neighborhood and its Pine Street building was demolished.
Ed Bacon's Society Hill had arrived.
Boslover's story has been largely erased from mainstream history, along with the experiences of other racially-diverse, immigrant groups in Society Hill.
A literature review did not find any academic papers referencing Boslover's experience with urban renewal.
This project will attempt to retell its story.
The Boslover Ahavas Achim Belzer Association began in a Philadelphia barbershop.
In 1903, three brothers, Nathan, Louis, and Harry Geiger, along with a carpenter, Jacob Shmukler, met at Nathan's shop on 615 S. 3rd Street.
Originally from Boguslav, Russia, these four men became the founders of the Boslover Beneficial Association. They sought to establish a community hub in Philadelphia for the wave of newly arriving Jewish refugees. Boslover hosted bimonthly meetings, helping these refugees navigate the unfamiliar American system. 4
In 1925, the organization purchased a building at the corner of 7th Street and Pine Street. Formerly the home of the Spanish Consulate, the space began serving as Boslover's headquarters. The building had four floors, featuring a dining area in the basement, a meeting room on the first floor, an auditorium on the second floor, and a top floor for organizations to rent. 5 It became known as Boslover Hall.
Members of Boslover posing in front of Boslover Hall after purchasing the building
Boslover Hall was located at the edge of the city’s Fifth Ward, one of Philadelphia’s oldest neighborhoods. 6 The Fifth Ward lies north-south between Chestnut and South Streets and east-west between the Delaware River and 7th Street, as seen below on the map. 7
Map of Philadelphia's Fifth Ward, with the red star marking Boslover Hall
The Fifth Ward was historically occupied by many of the city’s affluent members, including bankers and other wealthy elites. 8
But increasingly, the neighborhood changed to represent the city’s burgeoning immigrant, working-class population. By 1940, the neighborhood consisted of almost entirely Eastern European immigrants—15 percent of whom were Jewish. 9,10 These immigrants formed the core constituency of Boslover.
Amid this neighborhood shift, Boslover Hall became a hub for union organizing and other efforts to secure social justice reforms.
In 1930, the Needles Trades Industrial Union used the building to organize a massive strike against inhumane conditions in Philadelphia dressmaking factories. 11
Two newspaper advertisements for labor organizing efforts held at Boslover Hall
As seen in the image above, the Philadelphia Cleaners, Dyers, Spotters, and Pressers’ Union used the building to organize a general strike in 1936, mobilizing 4,600 workers against chain stores. 12
Other groups used the building for similar purposes, including the Seventh Ward Tenants League, 13 the Trade Union Utility League, 14 and the Women’s Regional Committee Against War. 15
Life wasn’t easy in the 1940s Fifth Ward. As the neighborhood became more diverse, wealth fled—and the area deteriorated rapidly. Many of the neighborhood’s once hallowed colonial-style homes had been boarded up, with aluminum siding hiding quaint brick exteriors. 16 By the end of the decade, the neighborhood's two-hundred-year-old homes had dropped precipitously in value, with some being sold for only a few hundred dollars. Spiking violent crime earned the neighborhood an unfortunate moniker: The Bloody Fifth Ward. 17
Boslover felt the impacts of these changes keenly. By 1950, the 701 Pine Street building had fallen into a state of disrepair. Two years later, the organization merged with another Jewish organization, Ahavas Achim Belzer, becoming the Boslover Ahavas Achim Belzer Assocation (Boslover). 18
Even though Boslover was now one of the city's leading fraternal institutions, boasting 1,500 members, its financial outlook appeared grim. 19 The organization was struggling to make its mortgage payments and the bank had threatened to foreclose on the property. 20
Boslover’s struggles were likely exacerbated by the city’s restrictive lending practices.
Redlining, a system created by the Homeowners' Loan Corporation (HLC), established a grading system for neighborhoods based on their racial and ethnic composition. 21 Below is the HLC's 1937 Redlining Map of Philadelphia. Boslover Hall is marked with a yellow star.
The 1937 Homeowners' Loan Corporation Redlining Map of Philadelphia, with Boslover Hall marked by star
The HLC graded the Fifth Ward as red. It was the lowest grade, corresponding to D: Hazardous. That meant Boslover could not access many of the bank loans, business relief packages, and mortgage refinancing tools that could have helped it repair its Pine Street building.
Instead, Boslover relied on the community to continue operations. It hosted a rally, which raised $10,000 to pay off the mortgage. 22
While Boslover was struggling to survive, Ed Bacon, the director of the Philadelphia City Planning Commission, was putting the finishing touches on his plans to transform the Fifth Ward. Confronted with fleeing white suburbanites and a plummeting tax base, Bacon planned sweeping changes to make the neighborhood more luxurious and desirable.
Ed Bacon, director of the Philadelphia City Planning Commission, examining a proposed redevelopment of the Fifth Ward
Historical preservation became a key element of his vision. He believed that the idea of living in a colonial home retained great appeal—and could potentially coax white suburbanites back into the city. 23 As early as 1946, Bacon professed a desire to connect the Fifth Ward to Independence Mall, creating a historic district that would attract new residents and tourists. 24
In some cases, Bacon allowed demolition, such as in the northeast portion of the neighborhood, which was leveled to make way for I. M. Pei’s Society Hill Towers. 25
I. M. Pei's Society Hill Towers, completed in 1977
But generally, Bacon sought to limit destruction in Society Hill preserve the neighborhood's history. He saw Society Hill as a rehabilitative project that would break with the “culture of clearance” guiding other urban renewal projects. 26
Bacon’s emphasis on preservation posed challenges for the project’s feasibility. The federal government’s Title I program would only fund urban renewal projects that involved demolition and new construction. 27 Historical preservation fell under the city’s purview, and Philadelphia was short on funds. 28
So Bacon adopted a new strategy: attracting private investment.
That required changing the image of the neighborhood.
One of his first steps came in 1950, when he changed the neighborhood’s name to Society Hill — honoring its Quaker founders, the Free Society of Traders. 29 The change communicated the neighborhood’s colonial history, but also signaled to affluent residents that Bacon’s new neighborhood would make a clean break from the poverty and blight that plagued the Fifth Ward.
Bacon knew his strategy would push longtime residents out. That same year, Eugene Klaber, an architect hired by the city, had written a report estimating that the project would displace over 400 families. 30
But Bacon forged ahead.
In 1956, he established the Old Philadelphia Development Corporation (OPCD) to oversee the neighborhood’s rehabilitation. He believed that if the OPCD trumpeted Society Hill's rich history, private investment and funding for historical preservation would follow. 31
His strategy of attracting wealthy homeowners was incredibly successful. Affluent residents poured back into Society Hill, with railroad baron C. Jared Ingersoll and Philadelphia mayor Richardson Dilworth, both calling the neighborhood home by 1960. 32 More and more elites followed, persuaded by Bacon’s mission.
Bacon’s vision for Society Hill was seemingly incompatible with the presence of Boslover and other longtime community and immigrant-oriented institutions. He wanted Society Hill to be a quaint, colonial-style district for people of means, not a diverse hotbed for cultural groups and unions.
There was palpable tension between the neighborhood's newcomers and longtime residents. New neighbors had already lodged noise complaints against Boslover, complaining that the organization's events were too loud. 33
At first, it was unclear how Bacon would manage this conflict.
And then he released his plan.
On December 1, 1961, the Redevelopment Authority unveiled its urban renewal guidelines for Washington Square East, which included much of the Fifth Ward.
Boslover’s headquarters, circled in red, fell directly within the boundaries of this renewal area.
At Boslover, events continued as scheduled.
On December 3, 1961, just two days after the Authority’s decision, the organization hosted a gala honoring its longtime president, David Landes. 34
Over a year passed without contact from the Redevelopment Authority.
To keep up with the broader neighborhood shifts, Boslover began to renovate its building, even spending $30,000 to install an elevator, which was unveiled to great fanfare in 1963. 35,36
It had become clear that longtime residents could only stay if they fixed up their properties.
Then, on May 16, 1963, the Authority informed Boslover that it could remain in the neighborhood, writing that:
"This property is compatible with the residential character of the neighborhood and . . . can remain and rehabilitated for its present use."
After receiving the May 1963 notice, Boslover reached an agreement with the Redevelopment Authority and spent an additional $28,000 on building renovations. 37
According to the court, their discussions revolved entirely around the physical characteristics of the building.
During the negotiations, the Redevelopment Authority said nothing to indicate that Boslover would have to alter its operations.
And then, on October 5, 1964, the Redevelopment Authority provided Boslover with its full set of rehabilitation requirements.
They came as “as a thunderclap in a clear sky.” 38
The Redevelopment Authority had added a paragraph to the rehabilitation agreement, Clause 19, which banned Boslover from renting out the building to any non-members.
For years, Boslover had rented out the third floor of its building to the Puerto Rican Community of Philadelphia. 39
The rental revenue was critical for Boslover’s survival. 40
But now the Authority told them that renting out the space to non-members was illegal.
Justice Michael Musmanno laid out the seemingly absurd implications of Clause 19 (left):
From now on, only Boslover members could attend events at 701 Pine Street.
Most importantly, this clause threatened to choke off revenue from Boslover right when it needed it most.
Boslover told the court that without the income from renting out its building, it would have to shut down.
Boslover appealed to the Redevelopment Authority to remove Clause 19.
The Authority replied in no uncertain terms: Agree to Clause 19 or lose Boslover Hall forever.
On February 14, 1966, Boslover filed a lawsuit against the Redevelopment Authority, seeking to remove Clause 19 from the agreement.
Just three months later, The Common Court of Pleas of Philadelphia County struck down Boslover’s request. Boslover appealed the decision, sending it to the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania.
On May 3, 1967, the ruling arrived.
The Supreme Court of Pennsylvania ruled against Boslover in a 4-3 decision, stating that the 1963 agreement between Boslover and the Redevelopment Authority was not binding.
Clause 19 would remain.
Boslover filed for a reargument, but the court denied the motion on June 23, 1967.
The case was over.
The Redevelopment Authority had won.
The precise impact of the court decision on Boslover’s finances and operations is unclear.
The organization’s meeting minutes (shown left) are handwritten in Yiddish and consist of hundreds of pages. They could not be translated for this project. 41
But by the end of 1970, less than four years after the court decision, Boslover had left Society Hill. They relocated to 6716 Bustleton Avenue, a building in Northeast Philadelphia. 42
Its move is shown on the map.
Now outside of Society Hill, Boslover was no longer subject to Clause 19. The organization began to rent out its building again and host cultural celebrations.
This invitation is for Boslover's 1975 Hanukkah celebration, which took place at its new location.
By 1971, Boslover Hall was demolished.
Ed Bacon had accomplished his goal.
Boslover disappeared from the neighborhood, and Society Hill’s wealthy residents were there to stay.
Key Conclusions
Lack of Communication
The Redevelopment Authority left longtime community members like Boslover in the dark.
Without any notice, the Authority added the rental restriction clause to Boslover’s rehabilitation agreement, forcing the organization to overhaul its operations.
Clause 19 was blatantly contradictory from the Authority’s 1963 guidance, which stated that the organization could be rehabilitated for its “present use.” 43
The "present use" condition in Boslover Ahavas Achim Belzer Asso. v. Redevelopment Authority of Philadelphia
As Justice Musmanno points out in his dissent, the organization’s “present use” in 1963 included renting out Boslover Hall.
The Redevelopment Authority didn’t give Boslover time to secure alternate sources of revenue. It didn’t give time for Boslover’s tenants to find a new space.
In one day, Boslover was expected to fundamentally change how it used its building.
In contrast, the court imposed no burdens on the Redevelopment Authority. The court didn’t ask the Redevelopment Authority to conduct a cost-benefit analysis of the rental clause. It didn’t require the Redevelopment Authority to provide Boslover a grace period before the clause took effect.
The court accepted that all of the burden would fall on Boslover.
That became a theme in other legal challenges to Bacon's Society Hill project.
In another case, a business owner sued the Redevelopment Authority after his property was condemned for redevelopment. He claimed that the Redevelopment Authority offered to pay him $1,500, an estimated compensation of his relocation expenses, but never did.
Again, the Redevelopment Authority had given unclear guidance to a community organization.
That ruling came from the Common Pleas Court in 1966, just two months after the decision in the Boslover case.
The court ruled: “it is the burden of the condemnee to come forward with proof of these moving costs.” 44
Excerpt from Washington Square Urban Renewal Area Condemnation, 1966
Again, the court chose to shift the burden of urban renewal onto ordinary citizens.
These cases demonstrate how the court granted the Redevelopment Authority broad power to uproot ordinary citizens’ lives.
And those citizens were left to pick up the pieces.
Gentrification
Society Hill is considered by some scholars to be the first true example of urban gentrification. 45
The Redevelopment Authority’s guidelines ostensibly sought to preserve the history of the neighborhood. In reality, Bacon's quest to recreate colonial nostalgia became the justification for the displacement of longtime community members like Boslover.
Boslover was pushed out of downtown Philadelphia — into a neighborhood that was far less affluent than Society Hill.
Comparison of average family income in 1970 between Society Hill (left) and Boslover's new neighborhood(right)
The images above indicate that in 1970, the average family in Society Hill made almost double as much as a family in Boslover's new neighborhood.
That's how Bacon wanted it.
"It was more important to restore this area [Society Hill] than to maintain the low-income residents." - Ed Bacon
When Boslover left, the neighborhood lost a hub for the Jewish community. There would no longer be any celebratory sounds of Bar Mitzvahs, weddings, and holiday parties coming from 701 Pine Street. In fact, the property remained undeveloped until the early 2000s.
The 701 Pine Street property, still undeveloped in 1999
Boslover’s story mirrors that of other fixtures in the community. Bacon’s project forced many small businesses out of Society Hill, including a popular Chinese laundromat and an Italian grocer. 46
The court’s decision also had consequences for the cultural groups that had come to consider Boslover Hall a second home. Puerto Ricans from across Philadelphia had previously flocked to Boslover Hall to celebrate their heritage at events like El Dia de la Raza. 47
But with the court’s decision, the Puerto Rican community was now boxed out of the neighborhood. That was likely intentional—and driven by the desires of Society Hill’s new affluent class.
In his dissent, Musmanno writes:
Excerpt from Justice Musmanno's dissent
These objections indicate that Clause 19 may have just been a backhanded way to enshrine a racial covenant.
Musmanno warned about the impacts this decision could have on the demographic composition of the neighborhood:
Excerpt from Musmanno's dissent
In large part, his prediction appears to have come true.
Bacon’s project displaced nearly all of the neighborhood’s African American residents. The residents who remained were almost all white. 48
Change in percentage of African Americans in Society Hill between 1940 (left) and 1980 (right) | US Census
The maps above show that the population of African American residents in Society Hill fell fivefold between 1940 and 1980.
Some residents tried to fight back. Starting in 1973, The Octavia Hill Seven, consisting of six Black households and one white household, tried to contest their eviction through the courts. 49
But they faced intense pushback from the neighborhood’s affluent members. Supporters of their cause received threatening phone calls and found their car tires slashed. 50 The court process stalled, and the seven households were pushed out of Society Hill for almost a decade. 51
In total, Bacon’s Washington Square East project displaced nearly 600 families. 52 Many of them were Eastern European and African American. 53 In their place, a class of wealthy elites manufactured a new community.
“I knew it was cruel while I was doing it,” Bacon said, in a 2003 interview with author Gregory Heller. 54
“But think of Philadelphia if Society Hill was still the way it was. It was more important to restore this area than to maintain the low-income residents.
