Passage 4

I was just a boy when my father brought me to Harlem for the first time, almost 50 years ago. We stayed at the Hotel Theresa, a grand brick structure at 125th Street and 7th Avenue. Once, in the hotel restaurant, my father pointed out Joe Louis. He even got Mr. Brown, the hotel manager, to introduce me to him, a bit paunchy but still the champ as far as I was concerned. Much has changed since then. Business and real estate are booming. Some say a new renaissance is under way. Others decry what they see as outside forces running roughshod over the old Harlem.

New York meant Harlem to me, and as a young man I visited it whenever I could. But many of my old haunts are gone. The Theresa shut down in 1966. National chains that once ignored Harlem now anticipate yuppie money and want pieces of this prime Manhattan real estate. So here I am on a hot August afternoon, sitting in a Starbucks that two years ago opened a block away from the Theresa, snatching at memories between sips of high-priced coffee. I am about to open up a piece of the old Harlem- the New York Amsterdam News—when a tourist asking directions to Sylvia’s, a prominent Harlem restaurant, penetrates my daydreaming. He’s carrying a book: Touring Historic Harlem.

History. I miss Mr. Michaux’s bookstore, his House of Common Sense, which was across from the Theresa. He had a big billboard out front with brown and black faces painted on it that said in large letters: “World History Book Outlet on 2,000,000,000 Africans and Nonwhite Peoples.” An ugly state office building has swallowed that space.

I miss speaker like Carlos Cooks, who was always on the southwest comer of 125th and 7th , urging listeners to support Africa. Harlem’s powerful political electricity seems unplugged—although the sweets are still energized, especially by West African immigrants.

Hardworking southern newcomers formed the bulk of the community back in the 1920s and 30s, when Harlem renaissance artists, writers, and intellectuals gave it a glitter and renown that made it the capital of black America. From Harlem, W.E.B. DuBois, Langston Hughes, Paul Robeson, Zora Neal Hurston, and others helped power America's cultural influence around the world.

By the 1970s and 80s drugs and crime had ravaged parts of the community. And the life expectancy for men in Harlem was less than that of men in Bangladesh. Harlem had become a symbol of the dangers of inner-city life.

Now, you want to shout “Lookin’ good!” at this place that has been neglected for so long. Crowds push into Harlem USA, a new shopping centre on 125th , where a Disney store shares space with HMV Records, the New York Sports Club, and a nine-screen Magic Johnson theatre complex. Nearby, a Rite Aid drugstore also opened. Maybe part of the reason Harlem seems to be undergoing a rebirth is that it is finally getting what most people take for granted.

Harlem is also part of an “empowerment zone”—a federal designation aimed at fostering economic growth that will bring over half a billion in federal, state, and local dollars. Just the shells of once elegant old brownstones now can cost several hundred thousand dollars. Rents are skyrocketing. An improved economy, tougher law enforcement, and community efforts against drugs have contributed to a 60 percent drop in crime since 1993.

At the beginning the author seems to indicate that Harlem ________.

When the author recalls Harlem in the old days, he has a feeling of ________.

Harlem was called the capital of Black America in the 1920s and 30s mainly because of its ________.

From the passage we can infer that, generally speaking, the author ________.