♪♪ - Welcome to Living St.

Louis.

I'm Brooke Butler.

And today, shh, we're in the library, the Central Library to be exact.

And it's not just the books here that make up its stories.

Beyond the shelves and grand architecture, it's where ideas, community, and knowledge all intersect and really shape the St.

Louis region.

And just like always, that same theme runs through today's stories.

- On this "Living St.

Louis," an updated look at the restoration efforts for one of St.

Louis' most iconic landmarks.

A conversation with PBS' resident librarian about Library Joy.

- As I say, you having your best day at the library?

That's what I call Library Joy.

- And a look back at the legacy of what was once one of the most important hospitals serving and training African Americans.

It's all next on Living St.

Louis.

♪♪ Today, I'm in a place that few people have been in the last five years, the top of the Compton Hill Water Tower.

It's currently closed to the public, but a new assessment is proposing changes that could reopen the tower one day.

So would you say the age is starting to show of this building?

Yeah, definitely.

Yeah, you know, it's a beautiful building.

It's a historic building, but you know, you can see looking around that you have, you know, there's some tuck pointing issues.

There's some dust and erosion here from the mortar and we're definitely starting to show its age.

Spencer Gould is the special assistant to the St.

Louis City Water Commissioner.

He took us inside the tower and up all 198 steps to see some of the issues with the historic structure.

Who needs the stair step at the gym?

Exactly.

Here's some, there's some more.

- You can see all that, you know, hard work.

- You can really see the debris here.

And our hard hats weren't just for show.

- Yeah, watch your step.

We've got some gaps here and some uneven ground.

- Rickety walkways, low-hanging wires, and falling debris presented obstacles on the tour.

The 179-foot tower was designed by architect Harvey Ellis and completed at the end of the 19th century.

It was used as a standpipe water tower, helping to regulate water pressure for St.

Louis City residents before improved technology came along.

It was only in commission for 30 years, which is a long run, but I think once that went down, I don't think it was designed to last the other 100 years since then.

But I think it stands to the work that they did and the engineering work that they did that it is still standing today.

It's one of only seven historic standpipe water towers that are left in the country, three of which are in St.

Louis.

The tower closed to the public in 2019 due to structural and safety issues and hasn't reopened since.

- It's a beautiful spot.

It's one of the few places, it's one of the highest points in the city, and you can see a 360-degree panoramic view of the entire city of St.

Louis.

It's one of the few places in the city where you get to see something like this.

And it's the only place in the city where you get to see the arch, 'cause if you're up there, you can't look outside of it.

- Because of the volunteers at the Water Tower and Park Preservation Society, people used to be able to visit the tower from March to November for a small fee.

The Preservation Society also opened the tower during full moons because of the excellent view from the top.

This was my second time in the tower since it closed.

In 2023, the then water commissioner, Curtis Scobie, gave me a tour to check out the damage.

Almost three years later, it doesn't look any better.

In fact, it's a bit worse.

Every time we have a freeze-thaw cycle, you're going to get that damage, especially as these spaces are exposed still and not covered.

Water gets in, expands, and you're gonna get these cracks and things are just getting worse and worse over time.

- The City Water Division, the Water Tower and Park Preservation Society, and Alderwoman Daniela Velazquez were able to finance an official assessment of the tower in August.

The 80-page report was released in January.

It highlighted the structural and aesthetic issues and put together a long-term restoration plan for the tower.

And considering how long the building has been closed to the public, this is a huge step forward.

The largest things that we're looking to repair are going to be maintaining that facade, so waterproofing to essentially ensure that there's not a continued deterioration, as well as maintaining any areas that may be public safety issues.

So as I discussed earlier, you know, some limestone and some things falling, we want to address those to not only make sure that the building is protected from the elements, but then also protecting the public so that hopefully we can get people back in here as soon as possible.

But the assessment estimates the restorations will cost around $6 million.

I mean, a project of this size not only has a large price tag, but it's also time and trying to figure out a way to collaborate with the public and us as a city, as well as donors who might be interested.

And raising those funds in order to do this is probably going to be the biggest challenge.

The Water Tower and Park Preservation Society members are working on planning some fundraising events.

The society, along with Alderwoman Velazquez and the City Water Division, are also researching grants and other methods to raise funds to repair the historic tower.

Even if the $6 million are raised, the repairs will take time.

But Spencer Gold says it's worth it.

I honestly believe that this tower is not only an architectural and engineering marvel, but it's a cultural icon.

And I think often from a distance, when you're driving past it, it looks fine.

You see the building and you see it from when you're driving down the road and you don't notice it.

But especially when you come in here and see it in person and getting close, you can realize that how bad and how much this the tower itself has deteriorated.

I view and I think the city views this as an important piece of our infrastructure, an important piece of our cultural heritage and cultural heritage of the city.

And I think that's worth preserving.

On Valentine's Day, the Central Library hosted a very special guest that drew hundreds of library friends.

I sat down with librarian and literacy advocate Mychal Threets to talk about his new book, his new role reviving a PBS classic, and of course, Library Joy.

Look at all these books that returned to the library today.

From librarian to literary internet sensation, to PBS's resident librarian, and now children's author, Mychal Threets carries many titles, but they all point to the same thing, an unapologetic, contagious joy.

I see that.

I'm gonna first ask you to describe what is Library Joy?

That's your whole like motto.

Tell me what Library Joy means to you.

- Yeah, Library Joy, in me and Lorraine Dodon's picture book, "I'm So Happy You're Here, A Celebration of Library Joy," one of my favorite spreads is I say, "You having your best day at the library?"

That's what I call Library Joy.

And I think that's like a very simple version, is your best day at the library.

But Library Joy to me, it changes for me day in and day out.

Today in this particular conversation, Library Joy, just like being yourself with the library, knowing what the library can do for you, that there is something for everyone.

I think that's always been what Library Joy is to me.

And I love it that there's so many different definitions.

You have your definition and it's not incorrect.

I may have said Library Joy more than anyone in the entire world, but I definitely don't own the definition, and I think that's what makes it so incredibly special.

- Yeah, and that is, it does mean so many different things.

And library, I mean, I've heard you say libraries are one of the few third spaces left, and it means so many different things.

It's not just books.

- No.

- And though books are a great part of it, but it's so much more.

- Yes.

- And I mean, I think that's a big part of what your book is about too.

- And I think that's what I was really hoping for, is to be able to write for every person who might ever come across the library.

It's intentionally written in a simple way, because my dream is it might be the first book a kid ever reads on their own, if the first time they actually read a book is about libraries and library joy, and essentially being able to celebrate themselves.

So I'm like, yes!

♪♪ - Hi, and welcome to Reading Rainbow.

- I wanna talk about Reading Rainbow.

(laughs) What an honor, right?

- It's a huge honor.

- What does that mean for you to, you know, revive this beloved program?

- Yes, I mean, I grew up and we talked about PBS.

I love PBS.

I'm the biggest PBS fan in the world.

I know you're PBS, and I'm sorry, I'm the biggest fan.

I have that honor.

I need a patch that says that somewhere.

I grew up with Big Comfy Couch and Wishbone and Dragon Tales, Mr.

Rogers, Bill Nye the Science Guy, and of course, LeVar Burton and Reading Rainbow.

So to this day, I still don't believe that I'm the new host of Reading Rainbow.

- How many of you have ever seen Reading Rainbow?

- Woo!

- The whole room!

- It means everything to me.

It's so cool that we're on YouTube, being able to show these kids who want to be YouTubers that we're saying books are important.

And they're like, whoa, they're talking about books on YouTube?

We haven't seen this before.

We love YouTube.

And they're just like, you're a YouTuber.

And I think that's so cool.

I don't connect to being a YouTuber.

I still see myself as a librarian, as an educator, but I'm like, but this is what they see.

This is what they need to connect with.

They need to say, this YouTuber is talking about books, talking about libraries.

Maybe I can do it too.

And so yeah, I will never know what to actually say about that question.

How do you feel about Reading Rainbow?

It's just an overwhelming amount of thoughts and feelings each and every time being able to be a part of my favorite show and one of my main personal heroes in LeVar Burton.

- Yeah, yeah.

What do you think, I mean, you talked about the YouTube aspect, but what do you think is “Reading Rainbow" now that maybe it wasn't in the '80s and '90s?

- You know what, I don't, I've thought about this myself, and I don't have a good answer.

I feel like I don't know is the easiest thing to say, but I think it's very similar, but there are some subtle differences.

I think, obviously, the main difference is myself.

I am not LeVar Burton.

I'm so sorry to any viewers who have been questioning that.

I am not LeVar Burton, surprise, surprise.

And I think when I say I'm not LeVar Burton is that I think my natural cadence of just speaking one-on-one with people, just in a room, I'm a huge introvert, I'm a quiet, laid-back person, but I think when you see me in the episodes of "Reading Rainbow," you just see my overall excitement because I'm in a library.

I'm in a place that kids can go visit for themselves.

And I'm just overcome by the peace and comfortableness of my favorite place in the world.

And that's when you see that enthusiasm start to pour out.

And I lose my LeVar Burton, Mr.

Rogers, quiet library voice cadence.

And I think that's one of the major differences.

But otherwise, we're still having adventures.

We're still having kid reviewers be the stars.

But I think it's a fun like spin on education, but also just being like paying homage to what Reading Rainbow has always been, which is to take a look, it's in a book.

If you could say one thing to the kids here today, what would that one thing be?

What would you want them to walk away today with?

Yeah, if I could say one thing to each of the library kids who are here today, any day, just remind them that they belong not just in libraries, but everywhere in the world.

I wish that they would know that they can be the best version of themselves.

If it's an autistic, ADHD, dyslexic, neurodivergent version, if they're disabled, if they're deaf, if they're blind, if they're LGBTQI+, if they're mentally ill, if they're anxious like me, if they're struggling, they still belong just as they are.

I believe that they are going to save the world.

They're the helpers in little form that Mr.

Rogers has always talked about.

And I just, I am so very proud of them.

I never thought I would be here today.

I'm still surprised I'm here this very day.

And I think it's the library kids who have always given me hope.

So ultimately I would tell them, thank you, and that they make me who I am.

So "Reading Rainbow" is back for four episodes, back on YouTube, back trying to make LeVar Burton proud because of those library kids.

Everything that we do, I think every person should do it for the library kids all over the world.

And I'm just so proud of them.

And I hope that they're safe, that they're protected, and they know that they're loved each and every day.

- Amazing.

I love it.

Thank you so much.

- Thank you.

This is amazing.

- I'm so glad you're here.

- I'm glad you're here.

- I love it.

- I'm Veronica Mohesky, and I'm here with Jody Sowell, President of the Missouri Historical Society.

And we're talking about a St.

Louis story that you may not be familiar with.

- If St.

Louis could introduce itself, it would say, "I am the place that trained "America's black doctors and nurses."

That story's about Homer G. Phillips Hospital.

Homer G. Phillips opens in 1937.

It is the hospital serving black St.

Louisans, important for this community, of course, but soon becomes important for the United States.

At one time, more than 50% of black doctors and nurses graduating from medical schools come to St.

Louis for the training program at Homer G. Phillips.

Such an amazing place.

It really trained generations of doctors and nurses.

And we have much of those items that speak to the Homer G. Phillips story in our collection, whether it be suits that were worn by doctors or instruments used by nurses, because we know how important it is to continue to tell this story, even if Homer G. Phillips is no longer around.

Thank you so much, Jody.

Thank you.

Let's take a look at the story.

Homer G. Phillips was born in Sedalia, Missouri in 1880.

And he arrived here in St.

Louis and he also served as a civil rights attorney representing people who were a part of the East St.

Louis race massacre.

Cecily Hunter is a public historian for the African American History Initiative at the Missouri Historical Society.

And he just was somebody who was beloved in the community and had so much impact here.

In the 1920s, it became clear to Phillips and others that St.

Louis' current hospital for African Americans was deficient.

Phillips worked with Mayor Henry Keel to get funds for a new hospital on a 1923 bond issue, which was ultimately approved by St.

Louis voters.

But it resulted in the decision to actually move forward with the hospital by 1933.

And so the doors would open by 1937 with Black people celebrating.

There was a parade.

It was a really a huge moment for St.

Louis's history in celebration of what will come out of this.

The hospital was built in the predominantly African-American neighborhood of The Ville.

But Phillips wanted the hospital to do more than just treat the community's ailments.

He wanted it to train Black doctors and nurses.

And so this space really became a place where Black medical professionals could come in, could specialize, could train, could serve, and could do so much within their own community.

But Phillips would not live to see the opening of the hospital.

1931 is when he was assassinated on his way to work.

And so, you know, ultimately, once the hospital opened up, it was determined that it would be best to name it in his honor because of his impact and because he was so revered here in St.

Louis.

Two white men went to trial for the crime, but were found not guilty.

Many white people didn't like Phillips or the idea of city funds going to a Black hospital.

Despite the challenges, though, it opened as a teaching hospital in 1937.

The hospital not only provided employment, it also provided a perfect place for African Americans to receive treatment.

And they knew when they came in there, we would treat them like a person because they always taught us in training that you treat every patient as if it was one of your relatives.

Lois C. Jackson was born at the Homer G. Phillips Hospital in 1944.

She also graduated from its nursing school in 1963.

She's the second vice president of the Homer G. Phillips Nurses Alumni Incorporated, and she introduced me to two of her fellow members, Zenobia Thompson.

What year did you graduate?

1965.

And Richard W. White.

I graduated in 1968.

He was also in only the second class to allow male nurses at the hospital.

I loved it.

In my class, we had 67, and of course 66 of them were female.

And I ended up marrying one of them.

So it worked out well.

It worked out well, yeah.

They all worked at the hospital for varying times after graduating, too.

All three of the alumni said that Homer G. Phillips was a no-nonsense school.

Homer G. Phillips was a very strict school.

They meant business.

They were so strict.

We were wearing street clothes and they took us downtown somewhere to get these ugly-looking shoes.

Oh, they were ugly-looking.

They had the big, thick heel on them.

You had to wear those the first year.

You know, we had an operating room supervisor.

She had these sterile forceps, and if you handed the wrong instrument, you'd pop you across your knuckles.

They wanted you to be excellent.

You just couldn't be good.

You had to be excellent.

And that was a factor, you know, in terms of being an African-American, you know, institution.

You had to excel.

You had to be good.

- The discipline instilled on the student nurses and doctors helped give the hospital an excellent reputation.

- And so this hospital became just state-of-the-art in its ability, not only the professionals, but the medicine, the treatments.

So you have everything in between where these particular professionals are leading the way and leading the charge for this nation, for this country.

They were known throughout the world because even some of the doctors came from other different foreign countries.

Africa, I think Haiti, and some of the Asian women were even there.

Within 10 years of opening, roughly a third of America's Black doctors had trained at Homer G. Phillips.

And it was the largest school in the country for Black registered nurses.

Richard came to study at the hospital from Houston, Texas.

And when I saw the hospital, I was just overwhelmed.

You know, I saw this big, big, big, I hadn't ever seen a hospital that large before.

It's also important to note that Black students often weren't accepted in white medical and nursing schools.

In different hospitals that did have schools of nursing, they did not allow African Americans.

And if they did, they only allowed one per year.

Even here in St.

Louis, if you wanted to go to Barnes or Jewish or MoBAP, they all said one African American per year.

So even out of state, there were lots of states that didn't have schools of nursing for Black women.

So they wound up coming to St.

Louis.

But even with the high standards set for students at the hospital, the alumni have many fond memories too.

There was a little hamburger place called Billy Burke's, but you never announced that you were going to Billy Burke's because you did.

Everybody on the hallway would want, "Get me one, get me one."

And then sometimes we would make the elevator stop on purpose so we would be late for classes.

Oh my gosh.

We had to do something.

And besides being a school and large employer, it was also a community center.

As an African American, you didn't have that sense of pride outside of your community.

You know, you were pushed aside and you were considered inferior and you weren't as good as other folks.

So the pride that Homer G. Phillips gave to our community was like lifeblood.

Richard W. White, who worked in the emergency room, says it was an excellent place to go for any care, but specifically for trauma.

We were the number one trauma hospital.

We were fortunate to have a doctor say nothing stops bleeding but surgery, whether you shot or whether you cut.

People said if you get a stab wound or a gunshot, make sure you go to Homer Phillips.

But things began to change in the 1960s and '70s.

As the U.S.

was moving towards an integrated society, city leaders questioned whether St.

Louis needed the hospital.

In 1977, the hospital was defunded and had to downsize.

In 1979, it officially closed against the wishes of many people in the community.

- With that came protests, came police, came dogs, came you name it, right?

There was a real tension in the community around this hospital to make sure that it stayed open.

Richard was working at the hospital up until it closed.

They had a busload of people dressed in SWAT uniforms.

They had dogs.

They had the mounted police.

It struck a nerve as well as very, very sad that day because you knew that the Black people in the community were going to be deprived of medical care.

Zenobia Thompson credits the closure with sparking her health care activism.

Because I had been working at Barnes before I came back to work at Homer G. Phillips and Barnes was very, very racist.

Barnes sort of radicalized me.

And when I was at Homer G. Phillips, I came into the movement and the struggle.

Zenobia was involved with the Save Homer G. Phillips Committee, along with many other hospital employees and community members.

She says this actually prevented her from getting a job for a while after the hospital closed.

I was out of work, but then Congressman Clay and a friend of his got me a job.

At this point, hospitals were integrated, but African Americans didn't always receive the same level of care as white people did.

My sister was a teenager, and she was at what we used to call Big Barnes over there on Kingshighway.

She was a patient there with pneumonia, and I went to visit her, and she was in the basement.

They had the black patients down in the basement.

So when I went to visit her, there were pipes overhead that were leaking, and I thought if she has pneumonia, why is she in this little damp, ugly place?

And then I found out that the majority of the black patients were treated down there.

There's still a very crisis in healthcare.

Dr.

King once said that of all the disparities in this country when it comes to African Americans, the healthcare situation is one of the most cruel.

And the data that exists is just unpalatable.

- The former hospital in The Ville is now a senior living center.

But around 2020, a medical facility was being built under the name Homer G. Phillips Memorial Hospital.

- We were shocked.

We were just shocked.

So then we applied for the copyright infringement.

- The facility was built on North Jefferson Avenue by Northside Regeneration, a company owned by developer Paul McKee.

Louis says the biggest problem was the use of Homer G. Phillips' name.

- So this is just like a slap in the face.

And there was no comparison because if you look at the picture of the real Homer G. Phillips Hospital, 600 beds, yes, we had four wings, we covered everything.

And anybody could come to the hospital for treatment.

You didn't have to say, "Well, I don't have insurance, "so if I go there, how am I gonna pay my bill?"

So we were just pretty upset with that.

The former nurses and other activists joined together to form the Change the Name Coalition.

Zenobia Thompson was a co-chair of the organization.

The group organized protests, worked with city officials, and filed a lawsuit against McKee and his corporation.

They requested that the hospital not use the Homer G. Phillips name.

But the corporation wouldn't comply.

Ultimately, a St.

Louis County judge dismissed the lawsuit in September 2024.

The nurses' alumni group attempted to appeal the decision without success.

But the building closed in March 2025.

It was then reopened by new owners and renamed.

We're just thankful that the name was changed and the building was closed.

Despite all the controversies, though, the original Homer G. Phillips Hospital is still a source of fond memories and joy for the nurses and many others.

I never have I seen a group of people from different expertise work for the one common goal like I saw them do.

I know we were the best at what we did at that time.

We're still here.

We might be small in number, but we're still here and we're still going to continue to protect and preserve our legacy.

So leave us alone.

And that's Living St.

Louis.

What's your favorite library branch to visit?

Or what's the weirdest thing you've ever checked out from the library?

Did you know that they lend musical instruments?

Let us know at ninepbs.org/lsl.

I'm Brooke Butler.

Thanks for joining us.

♪♪ - Living St.

Louis is funded in part by the Betsy and Thomas Patterson Foundation and the members of Nine PBS.

♪♪