S side James St looking W from opposite #18 is now a parking lot on July 21, 1960

Tony Russo (pseudonym) writes:
“That car in the foreground looks just like the car I owned. When they built those monstrous skyscrapers in the 1970s, the work crews were all Italians. They were mafia. They hired vandals and homeless to go in these homes and set them on fire, in order to justify demolition. Everybody lost. Nobody won. Nobody won because the parking lot and skyscraper they built in place of these homes is now empty and has so few tenants. You could say that the bad blood came around. The animals. They tore up our beautiful neighborhood for this.”

S side James St looking W from NE corner Plane on July 21, 1960

Bill Chappel writes:
“The mailbox in this image was right in the path of turning traffic. When cars sped through the intersection and bumped onto the sidewalk, they kept on hitting this mailbox. At my suggestion, the post master moved the mailbox to the other side of the street and better protected it behind a traffic pole. Zero accidents since then. That same mailbox is now decades old.

“These old photos show that Newark streets now have thousands more of those unsightly telecom wires dangling from the poles. In many streets, the buildings are all gone. But the telephone wires and poles are the last things left. I suppose someone will come along one day and say those are the only historic things left of our city.”

N side James St looking W between Eagles & Burnet on June 10, 1960

James Hollaway writes:
“I grew up on this street. On the corner was the Armel “French Ice Cream” shop. Next door there was a candy shop. And next to that a Chinese laundry. I bought ice cream and candy there ever day. One block down was Frank’s Meat Market. When Mr. Frank grew old and left town during white flight, I bought his shop. I had just returned as a GI from the Vietnam War, and it was the first business I owned. I put my heart and soul into that place, selling meat to all the neighbors on my street. One day, some youths came into my shop and held me up at gunpoint for my money. That was it for me. I closed my shop the next day. My old meat shop is now a corner store church. It belongs to my neighbor Bernard Wilks from Dominion Fellowship Ministries.”

Bill Chappel writes:
“One day the City came and demolished the ice cream shop, the candy store, and the Chinese hand laundry. My house is right next door and shared a party wall. I was afraid that my house would collapse along with it. The laundry is now a vacant lot and our neighborhood dog park. The City owns the land, and it’s their job to mow the lawn. A few years ago, I called the City to tell them this, and they told me they had forgotten this land was still theirs. So I took it on myself to mow the grass with the machine Mr. Hollaway bought me. As I get older, keeping this vacant lot clean gets more and more difficult.”

Looking SW at W side High St corner James St on June 10, 1960

Anne Mabry writes:
“The row house next to the corner apartment building at the corner of James and MLK we romantically called the “Romeo and Juliet House.’ By the early 1990s, all that was left was the facade of the building. The third floor had a window that resembled a crumbling balcony, from which Juliet would listen to the poetic passionate speeches of Romeo.”

Essex St looking N from James St on June 10, 1960

Anne Mabry writes:
“This little wood-frame house was tucked between the Rutgers-Newark graduate dormitory (to the left) and the Rutgers parking lot (to the right) when we moved to James Street in 1991. We never learned who lived there except it was abandoned and owned by Rutgers. Possums lived in the basement. You can guess what happened next. Another ‘demolition by neglect.’ The tiny footprint the little green house occupied was swallowed up by the parking lot. Not a trace remains except for a piece of the decorative roof cornice that we saved and sits on our back porch.”

The Little Green House on Essex Street: