| May
2000
Herman Wrice: 1939-2000
by Bill Gaither
Herman Wrice, one of our neighbors
and a nationally respected community activist, died
on March 10th in a motel near Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.
Next evening he was going to lead an anti-drug march.
Most of us knew about Herman, but not many of us really
knew Herman.
Herman was born in 1939 in a
small West Virginia coal mining town. His parents
split when he was very young. His mother went to work
in a war materials factory and he was raised by his
grandmother. When he was seven his mother moved to
Chester and later to Mantua. He attended Overbrook
High School, played football, was a gang leader (the
“Flames”), and graduated in 1957. Father
Rementer, then the rector of The Church of St. Andrew
and St. Monica, and Chester Montague, saw leadership
talent in Herman and urged him to get away from the
gangs. To help Herman attract neighborhood kids, Father
Rementer let Chester and Herman use the church’s
Great Hall for basketball games and Friday-night dances.
Ad-mission to the dances was 25 cents. One night in
April 1958 some boys were turned away for lack of
admission money. Outside they spotted a 26-year-old
Korean exchange student and bludgeoned him to death
for the money to get in. Herman felt personally responsible
for this tragedy. That trauma crystallized his resolve
to dedicate his life to getting kids on the right
track.
A year later, Herman married
Jean Elizabeth Gordy. They moved into a Mantua project
where Herman worked as a cook. Kids admired Herman
and hung around until he got off work to organize
games. Herman started a Cub Scout troop that grew
to over 100 boys. One evening in 1964 Jean and Patricia
Jenkins, a high school friend, were in a local store
when a shotgun blast shattered the window. Neither
was hurt, but the event shook Herman and Pat’s
husband Andy. Herman got the 15 or so gang leaders
together to talk about the lack of opportunity for
neighborhood kids. Together Herman and Andy formed
the Young Great Society. Within a couple of years
all sorts of constructive projects were underway with
the central theme, “You’ve got to take
responsibility for your own life.” Dr. Russell
Ackoff, a Wharton professor. noticed. Russ was beginning
to focus on inner-city problems and soon found private
money to aid the “Young Greats.” After
a few years of successful seeding of new enterprises,
Herman ran for City Council, but lost. He was depressed
and hurt. In 1977 he, Jean, and their children moved
to Atlantic, Iowa where Herman ran the Cass County
Alcohol Assistance Agency. Their children attended
several colleges in the midwest.
In 1985 the Wrices returned to
Philadelphia at the urging of Russ Ackoff and moved
to Spring Garden Street. I first met Herman in the
summer of 1985 when he organized a crew to paint the
interior of the Church of St. Andrew and St. Monica.
He was re-served but had great drive to get things
done Under Russ’s sponsorship he had a position
at Wharton. In 1988 Herman organized Mantua Against
Drugs (MAD). In a white hard-hat, provided by Mayor
Wilson Goode, Herman began the demolition and closing
of crack houses and led marches against drug dealers
who operated freely on street comers in Mantua. He
often faced death threats; he was not only fearless,
he once taunted the drug dealers to come get him while
he worked cleaning a street comer park. They didn’t.
He put up “Wanted” posters with pictures
of the Dealer of the Week. Herman’s methods
were adopted by other communities in Philadelphia.
His message: “Stand up to them and they’ll
leave.”
Philadelphia police took notice
and began helping Herman. Soon communities saw that
the police were there to help get rid of dealers.
Herman observed, “Communities thought the police
were the enemy— and the dealers loved it.”
Herman was soon called to other
cities and states. Legislatures invited him to speak.
Police departments sought his counsel. But Herman’s
heart was in leading drug marches and vigils. In 1990
President George Bush visited Herman and his followers
in Mantua, calling him the “John Wayne of Philadelphia.”
Herman didn’t care who got the credit, just
as long as more kids got a chance to make something
of their lives. While he and Jean have six children,
five sons and one daughter, they “adopted”
many more. Over 40 young men and women call him “Dad.”
Herman had a very meaningful life.
|
