Was he dreaming? Marvin Roger Anderson found himself back on Rondo Avenue, the year 1940. A ten-year-old Marvin weaved through lively crowds, the aroma of Miss Mary’s sweet potato pie wafting from her bakery. Rondo, the heart of Saint Paul’s Black community, pulsed with life. Laughter spilled from the doorways of the many Black-owned businesses: barbershops, restaurants, even a bustling jazz club. Rondo was a place of resilience, a tight-knit community where doctors and porters, teachers and musicians lived side by side. This was his home, a place where dreams took root and blossomed. Even the shadow of segregation couldn’t diminish the vibrant spirit of Rondo. Then, a jarring shift. The year was 1968. The air vibrated with the roar of construction equipment, not jazz music. A scar of asphalt cut through Rondo’s heart. Interstate 94, a monument to progress, had cleaved his beloved community in two. Marvin watched, heartbroken, as families were displaced, the lifeblood of Rondo scattered to the winds. He vowed then to keep the spirit of Rondo alive, to remind the world of what was lost, and what could be again.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to