When one says "Back in the Day" that signifies a long time ago or before it changed (gentrified). However, it is possible to be there at the advent of conception.
I came to the market in 1991 I was in my early 20's. He came to the north hall in 1974, he was 21 years old.
Social history: " is a branch of history that includes history of ordinary people and their strategies of coping with life"
So, back in the day when you walked into the north hall -Market 5 Gallery. One did not have to ask twice who was in charge. John Harrod was "The MAN". He did not take any shit off any body. Ask people who knew him. Some of the stories will make the ears burn. He had a heart of gold. But he could and would cuss you out. And at times would greet you in the morning with, "What the hell are you doing here?" That was his way of saying good morning. But John gave a damn about people-poor people, odd folk, artists, outcasts, and street kids etc. He helped people. He went the extra mile and then some. He did not give up on people. He gave "a brother" a dime, he had "yo back", he was something else.
"The MAN" Mr. John Harrod
Mr. Harrod was not an easy man. But there was such vision and beauty inside him. When he walked through the doors of the north hall, which was an empty DC storage unit back in 1974 ,he did not come alone. He brought his right hand man. A bad ass, a what the fuck you looking at young man, an "inner city tough", a brother from "roun' the way". The sayings go "lifting as you climb, each one reach one, each one teach one". John Harrod did not talk the talk of these sayings. He walked the walk and gave these words flesh, bone, blood and life. When Mr. Harrod walked through the doors of the north hall in 1974 he came to show someone " a young brother" his vision.
In writing about the exhibitor community at both Market 5 Gallery's Arts and Crafts festival on Saturdays and The Flea Market at Eastern Market on Sundays, I have been given many gifts of trust. There were folks that were at the top of my "I want to tell there stories list". Last year, well I thought I was done. I had done the best I could with what I had been given. Then last Sunday, Charles Ellis
Mr. Charles Ellis: ( love the hat) Assistant Manger
The Flea Market at Eastern Market. He was also an
aid to John Harrod at Market 5 Gallery. He has been at the Market
since 1995
comes over to my stand and tells me Rudy wants to talk to me. He gives me the number. I call Rudy and we begin our conversation...
On the phone, Rudy muses about why there are banners on the market honoring the German Architect of the building yet no plaque, memorial banner,and/or statue about the American humanitarian, social activist and visionary who conceived and built a community: John Harrod.
At the end of our conversation on Monday. I am told a story. The story is about grace: "unmerited mercy". Mr. Coates says to me: "I just feel like I owe him".
In his own words: William "Rudy" Coates
In my brief note above, I used expletive language. In doing so I was painting a picture with words of the outer shell of these men. The measure of these men can be seen, felt and gleaned in watching there actions, in what other's say about them, and in knowing there lives. In our conversations last Monday, I told him that the heart of what was the market was still there, still alive, still strong, fierce and loving.
Mr. William "Rudy" Coates
A while back I wrote about Vernon Burnett,
Mr. Vernon Burnett
assistant market manager, and director of exhibitor relations at The Flea Market at Eastern Market. I asked him about his life at the market and about his thoughts on life, people, art, etc. Here is what he wrote about Mr. Coates ...
"Rudy was John's handyman. He is very creative to say the least, he has training as a car mechanic, contractor, landscaping, painting, and electrical work. I believe he built the gallery walls and maintained them. I have always had a good working relationship with him, despite his quirks, he's got your back.
Do you remember "Market Joe"? He was the alcoholic, thin, salt and pepper straight hair, clean most of the time. He'd sit or lie down at the picnic tables. Sometimes he'd sit on the benches at the natatorium. As a matter of fact, he died on a bench at the natatorium. One Sunday morning when we were setting up, he was laying down on the bench and when someone tried to wake him, they realized that he was deceased
"Market Joe" was a fixture at EM, John looked out for him. He paid me a compliment once that gave me goose bumps. Once during the time when I was playing the flute at the market, he told me that he would sleep sometimes in the top of the EM (he explained it to me, but I could never fully realize where that space was in the market; he mentioned up in the rafters?) He told me he could hear me playing the flute up there, and the first time he heard me, he thought he was in heaven... What surprised me was the fact that the sound traveled that far, the flute is not a loud instrument, but because the building is connected, I could believe it. I learned that Joe was knowledgeable about music, books, and the world in general. Can't judge a book by it's cover.
When I talk about Rudy, I think back to the time I developed a heightened respect for him. During the Christmas Holidays, Rudy would take Joe out to dinner and give hims gifts, he had a sincere respect for Joe, in spite of his station in life. After Joe's death, his body was held at the DC morgue pending being claimed by family. Rudy kept tabs on what was happening. It seems that Joe didn't have any known family, so Rudy got a lawyer (I am sure you know, or have seen her: she was tall; thin as a rail; very stylish; very long hair; glasses; always in high heels. I think she was a District Attorney. She and Rudy claimed the body and gave him a funeral. I remember a tribute to him in Market 5's paper or the Hill Rag. Mr. gruff Rudy is a piece of work. He treats everybody the same, rough. When you get to know him though, he's really a funny, misunderstood, likable curmudgeon, with a fantastic gift of gab.
Rudy is able to grasp a situation, plan long range, delegate authority, and execute it."
_______________________________________________________________________________
The best stories, that I have been told are ones I can not tell. John Harrod gave folk a chance, then a second and then a third. He nourished and cultivated those seeds that fell on rocky ground. Now one can witness the garden that grew from his rough tending, every weekend at Eastern Market.
witnessing,
Sonda Tamarr Allen
post script:
thanks Rudy and sorry the video is sideways.
I came to the market in 1991 I was in my early 20's. He came to the north hall in 1974, he was 21 years old.
Social history: " is a branch of history that includes history of ordinary people and their strategies of coping with life"
So, back in the day when you walked into the north hall -Market 5 Gallery. One did not have to ask twice who was in charge. John Harrod was "The MAN". He did not take any shit off any body. Ask people who knew him. Some of the stories will make the ears burn. He had a heart of gold. But he could and would cuss you out. And at times would greet you in the morning with, "What the hell are you doing here?" That was his way of saying good morning. But John gave a damn about people-poor people, odd folk, artists, outcasts, and street kids etc. He helped people. He went the extra mile and then some. He did not give up on people. He gave "a brother" a dime, he had "yo back", he was something else.
Mr. Harrod was not an easy man. But there was such vision and beauty inside him. When he walked through the doors of the north hall, which was an empty DC storage unit back in 1974 ,he did not come alone. He brought his right hand man. A bad ass, a what the fuck you looking at young man, an "inner city tough", a brother from "roun' the way". The sayings go "lifting as you climb, each one reach one, each one teach one". John Harrod did not talk the talk of these sayings. He walked the walk and gave these words flesh, bone, blood and life. When Mr. Harrod walked through the doors of the north hall in 1974 he came to show someone " a young brother" his vision.
In writing about the exhibitor community at both Market 5 Gallery's Arts and Crafts festival on Saturdays and The Flea Market at Eastern Market on Sundays, I have been given many gifts of trust. There were folks that were at the top of my "I want to tell there stories list". Last year, well I thought I was done. I had done the best I could with what I had been given. Then last Sunday, Charles Ellis
The Flea Market at Eastern Market. He was also an
aid to John Harrod at Market 5 Gallery. He has been at the Market
since 1995
comes over to my stand and tells me Rudy wants to talk to me. He gives me the number. I call Rudy and we begin our conversation...
On the phone, Rudy muses about why there are banners on the market honoring the German Architect of the building yet no plaque, memorial banner,and/or statue about the American humanitarian, social activist and visionary who conceived and built a community: John Harrod.
At the end of our conversation on Monday. I am told a story. The story is about grace: "unmerited mercy". Mr. Coates says to me: "I just feel like I owe him".
In his own words: William "Rudy" Coates
In my brief note above, I used expletive language. In doing so I was painting a picture with words of the outer shell of these men. The measure of these men can be seen, felt and gleaned in watching there actions, in what other's say about them, and in knowing there lives. In our conversations last Monday, I told him that the heart of what was the market was still there, still alive, still strong, fierce and loving.
A while back I wrote about Vernon Burnett,
assistant market manager, and director of exhibitor relations at The Flea Market at Eastern Market. I asked him about his life at the market and about his thoughts on life, people, art, etc. Here is what he wrote about Mr. Coates ...
"Rudy was John's handyman. He is very creative to say the least, he has training as a car mechanic, contractor, landscaping, painting, and electrical work. I believe he built the gallery walls and maintained them. I have always had a good working relationship with him, despite his quirks, he's got your back.
Do you remember "Market Joe"? He was the alcoholic, thin, salt and pepper straight hair, clean most of the time. He'd sit or lie down at the picnic tables. Sometimes he'd sit on the benches at the natatorium. As a matter of fact, he died on a bench at the natatorium. One Sunday morning when we were setting up, he was laying down on the bench and when someone tried to wake him, they realized that he was deceased
"Market Joe" was a fixture at EM, John looked out for him. He paid me a compliment once that gave me goose bumps. Once during the time when I was playing the flute at the market, he told me that he would sleep sometimes in the top of the EM (he explained it to me, but I could never fully realize where that space was in the market; he mentioned up in the rafters?) He told me he could hear me playing the flute up there, and the first time he heard me, he thought he was in heaven... What surprised me was the fact that the sound traveled that far, the flute is not a loud instrument, but because the building is connected, I could believe it. I learned that Joe was knowledgeable about music, books, and the world in general. Can't judge a book by it's cover.
When I talk about Rudy, I think back to the time I developed a heightened respect for him. During the Christmas Holidays, Rudy would take Joe out to dinner and give hims gifts, he had a sincere respect for Joe, in spite of his station in life. After Joe's death, his body was held at the DC morgue pending being claimed by family. Rudy kept tabs on what was happening. It seems that Joe didn't have any known family, so Rudy got a lawyer (I am sure you know, or have seen her: she was tall; thin as a rail; very stylish; very long hair; glasses; always in high heels. I think she was a District Attorney. She and Rudy claimed the body and gave him a funeral. I remember a tribute to him in Market 5's paper or the Hill Rag. Mr. gruff Rudy is a piece of work. He treats everybody the same, rough. When you get to know him though, he's really a funny, misunderstood, likable curmudgeon, with a fantastic gift of gab.
Rudy is able to grasp a situation, plan long range, delegate authority, and execute it."
_______________________________________________________________________________
The best stories, that I have been told are ones I can not tell. John Harrod gave folk a chance, then a second and then a third. He nourished and cultivated those seeds that fell on rocky ground. Now one can witness the garden that grew from his rough tending, every weekend at Eastern Market.
witnessing,
Sonda Tamarr Allen
post script:
thanks Rudy and sorry the video is sideways.
I am working on...bye and bye
 |
| "The Guys" Sunday 4/1/2012 Charles Ellis, William "Rudy" Coates and David Wright taking a break at the Market they help build and still manage |
____________________________________________________________________
On October 3. 2014 a memorial plaque was dedicated to John Harrod by: Mayor of the District of Columbia : Vincent Gray
and of course Mr. Coates was there...
_____________________________________________________________________
The Danger of a Single Story
http://turtleswebbmyviewfromhere.blogspot.com/2011/08/danger-of-single-story-turtles-webb.html
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