
Ruthie Mae McCoy had a credibility problem. Even though she preferred to just be left alone, the folks in the blighted, dangerous housing projects where she lived didn’t trust her.
She would curse at folks passing by, and often muttered to herself. So when she heard voices in the bathroom wall behind her medicine cabinet, she knew something wasn’t right. She needed help, but would the authorities trust her?
No. She was Black, poor, and had been institutionalized. The police did not want to be responsible for kicking down doors, and the security guards didn’t want to have to make repairs. So when she called 911, no one came.
It wasn’t until several other people called, after hearing gunshots, that the police arrived and a carpenter unscrewed her door. It was too late, however – she was already decomposing.
After reading about McCoy’s story in the newspaper, filmmakers used her story to inspire crucial scenes in Candyman – a film in which the title character emerges through bathroom mirrors to murder his victims. The real horror? Housing is one of the most important determinants of lifespan and Black people are suffering from unfair conditions. We must invest in our own spaces and in our own well-being. Black spaces matter.