The City That Sometimes Actually Works
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The room had become a favorite spot for a diverse crew of lifters, most of them black men–everyone from cops to parolees just out of prison and living in one of several nearby halfway houses. “It was a community place,” says Hudson, a policy analyst for the state. “It was just a positive place for African-American men from divergent paths to come together.”
Then on July 16 officials in the Park District’s central office ordered the room closed, saying the equipment was “hazardous,” dangerous to the health of the people who used it. They also said the district was too broke to buy new equipment, even though the cost of three new benches and 300 pounds of weights was no more than $800. The old weights were removed and the door locked.
When I stopped by a few days ago the old weight room was still locked, but a bigger room in the same building had been turned into a fitness center, just as Mitchell had promised. There were new weight-lifting machines, a stationary bike, a treadmill, a stair climber, and several racks of dumbbells. There were also mirrors on the wall, ceiling fans, and a new coat of paint. Compared to Jones’s old weight room, it was the East Bank Club.
Correction
But I’ve since learned from several readers that Prindable was dead-on in his political analysis, though a little off on his geography. The dorm is on the northeast corner, which is indeed in the 49th precinct.
