Nation: No Place Like Home

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At the height of Harlem's nighttime fury, a white police officer stood in the litter of glass and garbage that had come crashing down from the darkened rooftops and raised a bull horn to his mouth. "Go home," he pleaded with the glowering Negro mobs that clustered along Seventh Avenue and atop the shabby tenements. "Go home. Go home." From a man in the mob came a shout: "We are home, baby."

There was both defiance and despair in that cry, for Central Harlem is no place like home. It occupies only a 3.5-sq.-mi. wedge of upper...

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