Matthew King and I had hoped to get coffee together some day in one of the old rowhouses of Harlem Park. It was a little joke between us. Someone had spray painted the question, “Why no Starbucks here?” on a boarded-up, three-story beauty at Lafayette Avenue and N. Carey Street, and King, president of the Harlem Park Community Development Corp., took that as a challenge.
Why not a Starbucks or, better, a locally-owned coffee shop in a renovated rowhouse near leafy Lafayette Square? And why not new housing? Why not new homeowners? Why not a whole Harlem Park renaissance?
With a background in finance and real estate, King took on the tall challenge of trying to bring investment to the long-neglected West Baltimore neighborhood where he had purchased a home a decade earlier. His CDC rolled out a top-notch master plan for Harlem Park in June. I looked it over and started to believe in the possibility of the corner coffee shop and more. Why not?
But Tuesday brought news of the death of Matthew King at age 35, and all who knew him and admired his big ambitions for Harlem Park were stunned.
King’s mother said the cause of her son’s death has not been determined. The Baltimore Police Department listed it as questionable and are investigating. King died in a second house he rented on Fleetwood Avenue in Northeast Baltimore. His funeral will be held in New Jersey on a date still to be determined.
What a tragedy for the King family, what a hard setback for the people of Harlem Park. They lost a dreamer and a doer.
Matthew Haskell King was the son of Michelle Dupree Harris, a longtime New Jersey schoolteacher and Morristown Council member, and Mark King, a housing inspector. Matthew and his two sisters, Charleigh King and McKenzie King, grew up in Morristown. He attended Morristown High School and was captain of the football team.
King earned a bachelor’s degree from West Virginia University and a master’s of business administration from what is now Purdue University Global. He was working toward a second master’s, in nonprofit management and social entrepreneurship, from the University of Baltimore. Last year, as one of UB’s real estate fellows, King won the second annual “Pitch for a Million” real estate development competition, putting the Harlem Park CDC in line to receive financing for nine new apartment units and two new houses.
King had come to Baltimore in 2010. He worked as a baggage handler and customer service agent at BWI Marshall Airport before starting his own real estate investment and consulting firm. He also worked as an insurance agent and opened a financial services company in Harbor East.
Frustrated with the deterioration of his neighborhood, but excited by the possibility of seeing a revival, he reestablished the Harlem Park CDC. “If you look around,” he told me. “You see the assets and bones of what once was a great community. We need to get back to that great community, and even surpass it.”
King hired the architectural firm of Ayers Saint Gross to develop a master plan. “Matthew was passionate about Harlem Park,” said Amber Wendland, a senior planner at ASG who worked closely with King and was among those shocked by his death. “He invested time, resources, energy and love into the community. … The world lost a visionary, Baltimore City lost one of its most promising leaders, and I lost a friend.”
The gregarious King made lots of connections as he worked tirelessly to draw attention to Harlem Park. Greg Cangialosi, one of the city’s leading tech entrepreneurs, invited him to a seat on the board of Betamore, the startup hub at City Garage. Betamore and Harlem Park were developing a partnership to expose children to technology and art. “His energy, passion and excitement for his vision … will never leave us,” Cangialosi said. “I felt it every time I had the opportunity to engage him.”
Damian Rintelmann, a tech innovator and Betamore board member, also saw King’s fervor for Harlem Park. “Matt was an indefatigable advocate for his community and just an all-around caring and deeply compassionate person,” Rintelmann said.
When the pandemic arrived, King looked out for his neighbors. “He organized food drives, meal deliveries and grocery deliveries,” Rintelmann said. “He worked day and night to make sure people were as safe and healthy as they could be under the circumstances, often putting his own health at risk in the process.
“He had big visions for creating safe and affordable housing, jobs and educational opportunities and access to healthy food. He was the rare person who appeared to have been driven entirely by his desire to help others. It informed every choice he made.”
The last time we met, in early July near his house on Carrollton Avenue, King expressed pride in the master plan but was dismayed that city officials had not recognized his efforts. He seemed frustrated and spoke cryptically of corruption in city government.
“I’ve decided to run for City Council,” he declared in a text on Aug. 2. “I’m tired of what’s going on and it’s time to continue the good trouble.”
I was away at the time and said we would meet when I returned. But that did not happen. So I don’t know what he meant by corruption. I don’t know what caused his death, or who picks up where he left off, or if there will ever be a coffee shop in Harlem Park.
