Daily News from New York, New York • 113

SUMMKa NEWS MANHATTAN-BRONX SECTION TWO Largest circulation in MANHATTAN-BRONX NEW YORK'S PICTURE NEWSPAPER Copr. 1969 News Syndicate Co. Inc. New York, N.Y. 10017, Sunday, July 6, 1969 Twm SIS ii 'i I By GUS DALLAS Its business is producing materials that go into covering the raw framework of buildings, but for the last five years, United States Gypsum Co.

has also been in the unlikely business of helping cover up slum blight. Gypsum is a private enterprize pioneer in the field of slum housing rehabilitation. Since 1965, it has been buying rotted tenements In a few big cities and renovating them for low-income housing. Major projects have been In Manhattan. The firm has rebuilt 15 apartment buildings in East Harlem and is about to finish two more on Lexington Ave.

between E. 130th and E. 131st Sts. When renovations are completed, the buildings are sold to non-profit community groups, organized for the purpose of managing and maintaining them and paying off the 40-year mortgages, with help from the Federal Housing Administration. Plug ior Products The company doesn't deny a profit incentive.

It collects rents until the buildings are turned over to the new management, but it looks for its financial return in the sales of building materials to contractors. Gypsum hoped that other big corpo- rations would follow its lead and hop into slum cleanup, thereby creating a bigger market for its products. The dream has yet to materialize. Armstrong Cork another building materials Bupplier, rehabilitated nine slum houses in North Philadelphia but recently discontinued its program as unfeasible. Despite the fact that its program is still in the red, Gypsum is going on.

Two buildings nearing competition are expected to be ready for tenants by the end of July tenants relocated in adjoining buildings by Gypsum get priority and the company is ready to pick the site for its next job. The choice is between Bronx and Brooklyn. "We just hope our experiences will afraid to. I asked, and she said that she couldn't read. "It turned out there were plenty like hor.

I told the tenants that they could come to me and I'd explain anything they wanted to know about." In the East Harlem projects, the interiors of old buildings were removed, except for floors and supporting walls. New plumbing, wiring and heating was put in and the apartments were laid out with larger rooms. Three and four-bedroom apartments were included in the latest projects. People coming up from the slums practically have to be taught to live better, regardless of the improved housing, Obey believes. Bedroom Problem "People with four or five kids would ask for two-bedroom apartments," he said.

"They took it for granted that a couple of kids would sleep on the living room sofa, like before, or sisters and brothers would crowd into one bed." He is pessimistic about the adults changing their attitudes and believes the best hope lies in educating the youngsters before they become fixed in the same mold. As Obey spoke, his eyes followed a child kicking a can along the litter-strewn curb and finally into the street. "I don't mind if he kicks it along the curb, but why does he have to leave it in the midd'e of the road?" he asked. "A lot of young mothers here don't know how to keep house properly because no one ever taught them he said. "And they're anxious to learn.

But where The rest of us take it for granted that girls automatically learn about housekeeping. Most people don't realize how differently slum kids grow up. "I know you can't deal with a social problem involving millions on an individual basis, as I'm trying to do on these projects. But I believe that if I can teach something to just 10 people here before I leave, those 10 may go out and' educate 10 more each, and on and on." In its East Harlem projects, Gypsum has modernized 325 apartments so far. Rents in the Lexington Ave.

group run from $00 month for one-bedroom apartment to $150 for four. About 80 of the tenants are on welfare. pay off for everyone," says Warren J. Obey, Gypsum's project manager in New York. "If nothing else, we've made a big contribution by showing people how to run housing programs in a businesslike, more efficient manner.

"When we became involved in housing rehabilitation, the FHA couldn't answer all our questions. We and the FHA learned the ropes together. We feel we've helped cut down considerably the time and paperwork Involved in such things as processing applications." Gypsum got into the rehabilitation business by chance In 1946 after the FHA. called the firm to ask if it had a product that could cover rough-textured plaster walls, leaving a smooth surface. Company brass saw that housing rehabilitation offered a major new market for building materials and a chance to contribute to urban renewal without alarming the stockholders.

The firm launched its program with the purchase of six rundown tenements on E. 102d St. early in 1965. Since then, it has completed projects in Cleveland and Chicago and is still working on jobs in Detroit, East St. Louis and San Francisco.

Obey Talks It Over Probably the most involved participant in the East Harlem project is Obey. He spends his days at the work site and many of his evenings with community groups discussing what the tenants would like included In the rehabilitated buildings. Obey is tall, straight-backed, with white hair and thick black eyebrows. When he walks around the buildings or chats with tenants on the sidewalk or in the tiny, nameless, asphalt-topped ark across the street, his eyes fre-ouently dart over the construction area. He looks more like an old-time school principal than a business executive.

Educating the tenants soon became one of his major responsibilities when he took on the renewal program. "I must admit I was astonished to find out that some of these people didn't know how to use the refrigerators and stoves we put in the renovated apart- NEWS photo by Ed Clarity Construction firm superintendent Bir-ger Nilson (1) looks over housing project plans with project manager Warren Obey. ments," he said, "or even such ordinary things as bathtubs and telephones. "We gave every tenant booklets explaining how to use and defrost refrigerators. One woman looked at me as if she wanted to say something but was jiiiiiniiiiMiiiMiiiiiiHiiinimiMMiiHm Homo Mesi Hmded, (Queen Bees Are Stinging Mad By JERRY LISKER She sat there with her legs crossed, the lashes of her mascara-coated eyes beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

She was angry. She was so upset she hadn't bothered to shave. A day old stubble was beginning to push through the pancake makeup. She was a he. A queen of Christopher Street.

pranced around like Wonder Woman, while several Florence Nightingales administered first aid to the fallen warriors. There were some assorted scratches and bruises, but nothing serious was suffered by these honeys turned Madwomen of Challiot. Official reports listed four injured policemen with 13 arrests. The War of the Roses lasted about two hours from about midnight to 2 a.m. There was a return bout Wednesday night.

Two veterans recently recalled the battle and issued a warning to the cops. "If they close up all the gay joints in this area there is going to be all out war." Bruce and Nan Both said they were refugees from Indiana and had come to New York where they could live together happily ever after. They were in their early 20's. They preferred to be called by their married names, Bruce and Nan. "I don't like your paper," Nan lisped matter-of-factly.

"It's anti-fag and pro-cop." "I'll bet you didn't see what they did to the Stonewall. Did the pigs tell you that they smashed everything in sight? Did you ask thorn why they stole money out of the cash register and then smashed it with a sledge hammer? Did you ask them why it took thorn two years to discover that the Stonewall didn't have a liquor license?" Bruce nodded in agreement and (Continued on pago M6) with cheers of encouragement from the gallery. The whole proceedings took on the aura of a homosexual Academy Awards Night. The Queens pranced out to the street blowing kisses and waving to the crowd. A beauty of a specimen named Stella wailed uncontrollably while being led to the sidewalk in front of the Stonewall by a cop.

She later confessed that she didn't protest the manhandling by the officer, it was just that her hair was in curlers and she was afraid her new beau might be in the crowd and spot her. She didn't want him to see her this way, she wept. Queen Power The crowd began to get out of hand, eye witnesses said. Then, without warning, Queen Power exploded with all the fury of a gay atomic bomb. Queens, princesses and ladies-in-waiting began hurling anything they could lay their polished, manicured finger nails on.

Bobby pins, compacts, curlers, lipstick tubes and other femme fatale missiles were flying in the direction of the cops. The war was on. The lilies of the vaUey had become carnivorous jungle plants. Urged on by cries of "C'mon girls, let's go the defenders of Stonewall launched an attack. The cops called for assistance.

To the rescue came the Tactical Patrol Force. Flushed with the excitement of battle, a fellow called Gloria Last weekend the queens had turned commandos and stood bra strap to bra strap against an invasion of the helmeted Tactical Patrol Force. The elite police squad had shut down one of their private gay clubs, the Stonewall Inn at 57 Christopher in the heart of a three-block homosexual community in Greenwich Village. Queen Power reared its bleached blonde head in revolt. New York City experienced its first homosexual riot.

"We may have lost the battle, sweets, but the war is far from over," lisped an unofficial lady-in-waiting from the court of the Queens. "We've had all we can take from the Gestapo," the spokesman, or spokeswoman, continued. "We're putting our foot down once and for all." The foot wore a spiked heel. According reports, the Stonewall Inn, a two-story structure with a sand painted brick and opaque glass facade, was a mecca for the homosexual element in the village who wanted nothing but a private little place where they could congregate, drink, dance and do whatever little girls do when they get together. The thick glass shut out the outside world of the street.

Inside, the Stonewall bathed in wild, bright psychedelic lights, while the patrons writhed to the sounds of a juke box on a square dance floor surrounded by booths and tables. The bar did a good business and the waiters, or waitresses, were always kept busy, as they snaked their way around the dancing customers to the booths and tables. For nearly two years, peace and tranquility reigned supreme for the Alice in Wonderland clientele. The Raid Last Friday Last Friday the privacy of the Stonewall was invaded by police from the First Division. It was a raid.

They had a warrant. After two years, police said they had been informed that liquor was being served on the premises. Since the Stonewall was without a license, the place was being closed. It was the law. All hell broke loose when the police entered the Stonewall: The girls instinctively reached for each other.

Others stood frozen, locked in an embrace of fear. NEWS photo by Hy Rothman The Stonewall Inn Only a handful of police were on hand for the initial landing in the homosexual beachhead. They ushered the patrons out onto Christopher Street, just off Sheridan Square. A crowd had formed in front of the Stonewall and the customers were greeted.