Philly neighborhood scars unhealed from 1985 bomb
Published: Wednesday, May 12, 2010
By KATHY MATHESON
The Associated Press
PHILADELPHIA (AP) — Gerri Bostic lost all her material possessions 25 years ago when police dropped a bomb on her block, killing five children and six adult members of the militant group MOVE and incinerating 61 row homes.
Perhaps her biggest losses were her peace of mind and sense of community.
Her West Philadelphia neighborhood — now nearly vacant and eerily quiet — never recovered from the city’s horrific botched attempt to arrest the MOVE members on May 13, 1985. The violent confrontation was a rare bombing of American citizens by civilian authorities in the United States.
Today, after spending more than $43 million on redevelopment, the city has two blocks of boarded-up eyesores to show for its efforts. The homes built to replace those lost in the bomb-ignited inferno were so shoddy that officials stopped making repairs and offered buyouts.
“There’s nothing nice about this block anymore,” said Bostic, 89. “All the people are gone.”
And now that a long-running lawsuit over the replacement houses has ended, Councilwoman Jannie Blackwell says the city needs to put the past to rest on Osage Avenue and Pine Street.
“It’s time to make peace with it all and fix up the properties,” Blackwell said.
It won’t be easy; Philadelphia has many blighted areas competing for attention. And developers of these blocks will have the added challenge of winning support from embittered residents whose American Dream of homeownership has been a nightmare.
“We’ve been victimized twice,” Osage resident Milton Williams said.
Some might say Williams and his neighbors have been victimized three times — the first being when MOVE arrived around 1981.
The revolutionary back-to-nature group came to the city’s Cobbs Creek section after a 1978 shootout with police at its previous home. One officer died in the firefight; nine MOVE members went to prison, and others moved to Osage Avenue.
They soon turned their middle-class row house into a fortified compound, with a bunker on the roof and wooden slats over the windows. Reeking garbage attracted vermin, and loudspeakers blared obscene daily rants against authorities for jailing their peers.
“You really couldn’t get any rest,” said Connie Renfrow, who still lives on Osage. “The kids couldn’t do their studies.”
Her husband, Gerald Renfrow, said neighbors at first tried to address the problems directly with MOVE members, all of whom used the surname Africa. When talking failed, residents called authorities — but to no avail.
“They just let it fester,” he said.
The Associated Press
PHILADELPHIA (AP) — Gerri Bostic lost all her material possessions 25 years ago when police dropped a bomb on her block, killing five children and six adult members of the militant group MOVE and incinerating 61 row homes.
Perhaps her biggest losses were her peace of mind and sense of community.
Her West Philadelphia neighborhood — now nearly vacant and eerily quiet — never recovered from the city’s horrific botched attempt to arrest the MOVE members on May 13, 1985. The violent confrontation was a rare bombing of American citizens by civilian authorities in the United States.
Today, after spending more than $43 million on redevelopment, the city has two blocks of boarded-up eyesores to show for its efforts. The homes built to replace those lost in the bomb-ignited inferno were so shoddy that officials stopped making repairs and offered buyouts.
“There’s nothing nice about this block anymore,” said Bostic, 89. “All the people are gone.”
And now that a long-running lawsuit over the replacement houses has ended, Councilwoman Jannie Blackwell says the city needs to put the past to rest on Osage Avenue and Pine Street.
“It’s time to make peace with it all and fix up the properties,” Blackwell said.
It won’t be easy; Philadelphia has many blighted areas competing for attention. And developers of these blocks will have the added challenge of winning support from embittered residents whose American Dream of homeownership has been a nightmare.
“We’ve been victimized twice,” Osage resident Milton Williams said.
Some might say Williams and his neighbors have been victimized three times — the first being when MOVE arrived around 1981.
The revolutionary back-to-nature group came to the city’s Cobbs Creek section after a 1978 shootout with police at its previous home. One officer died in the firefight; nine MOVE members went to prison, and others moved to Osage Avenue.
They soon turned their middle-class row house into a fortified compound, with a bunker on the roof and wooden slats over the windows. Reeking garbage attracted vermin, and loudspeakers blared obscene daily rants against authorities for jailing their peers.
“You really couldn’t get any rest,” said Connie Renfrow, who still lives on Osage. “The kids couldn’t do their studies.”
Her husband, Gerald Renfrow, said neighbors at first tried to address the problems directly with MOVE members, all of whom used the surname Africa. When talking failed, residents called authorities — but to no avail.
“They just let it fester,” he said.
