‘Like a slap in the face’

of legally sanctioned segregation. Today, Baltimore County, home to 831,000 people, is the most segregated county in Maryland, according to a county analysis.

Baltimore enacted the nation’s first racial zoning law, in 1910. The Supreme Court struck down such laws seven years later, but restrictive covenants became common.

“They were promoted by the federal government as a desirable instrument to guarantee safety and stability in neighborhoods that might change,” said Antero Pietila, author of “Not in My Neighborhood: How Bigotry Shaped a Great American City.”

While such covenants sometimes targeted other groups, such as Jews, they always excluded blacks, said Pietila, a former Baltimore Sun reporter.

The Supreme Court ruled in 1948 that the agreements themselves were not unconstitutional, but enforcing them violated the equal protection clause of the 14th Amendment. That court decision stemmed from a case in which a black family bought a home in St. Louis, only to be sued by another resident. Baltimore native Thurgood Marshall, the future Supreme Court justice, successfully argued the case as an NAACP attorney.

The ruling didn’t break down barriers to black homeownership in white neighborhoods. “It’s undoubtedly the case that long after 1948, restrictive covenants lived on as a matter of practice in the real estate industry,” said Garrett Power, professor emeritus of law at the University of Maryland.

Combined with practices such as redlining — in which the federal government and banks denied loans to black residents — and racial zoning, covenants created “very exclusively white communities” that remain mostly white today, said Brown, the Morgan State professor.

White neighborhoods developed stronger tax bases, which helped them accumulate “structural advantages” — better schools, parks and infrastructure — while black communities, lacking such resources, developed “structural deficits.”

“These advantages and disadvantages then have an impact on people’s lives,” Brown said.

Princeton sociologist Douglas Massey says black residents in the Baltimore metropolitan area live in “hypersegregation,” which he says leads to social isolation and high concentrations of poverty.

Rodgers Forge remains predominantly white. Its neighborhood elementary school is about 82 percent white, according to state data. The Baltimore County population has changed from 96 percent white in the 1960s to 62 percent today. Brown says the neighborhoods that once overtly excluded black residents remain out of reach for many of them today.

“In America, most people obtain and increase their wealth through their house,” he said. “By not being able to live in those communities, black people in Baltimore have not been able to grow their wealth in the same way.”

The Baltimore County government entered into a settlement with the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development last year to resolve a fair housing complaint filed by the county NAACP, Baltimore Neighborhoods Inc., and three county residents.

The complainants alleged that the county fostered racial segregation by spending almost all of its federal and state housing funds on elderly housing occupied mostly by whites; putting Section 8 voucher holders mostly in poor East Side and segregated West Side neighborhoods; and demolishing 4,100 subsidized housing units since 1995 without replacing them.

As part of the agreement, the county must spend $30 million over the next decade to help finance 1,000 affordable homes and help 2,000 families using vouchers move to higher-opportunity neighborhoods.

County Executive Kevin Kamenetz was also required to introduce legislation that would have prohibited landlords from refusing to rent to Section 8 voucher holders. It failed by a 6-1 vote of the County Council.

At public hearings, some county residents said the proposal would cause voucher holders to move to their neighborhoods, hurting property values.

Rodgers Forge has many sets of covenants, said Kris Henry, the president of the community association.

The documents spell out restrictions for how property can be used — prohibiting, for instance, horse stables and live chickens.

Henry, a former reporter and editor for The Sun, researched covenants five years ago for a piece for The Towson Flyer, the local news website she runs. She found that they vary based on when homes were built and where they are located.

“When you see that language in your deed, it’s like a slap in the face,” Henry said.

Karen Rodriguez, 45, serves as treasurer of the community association. She said some people have asked what difference it would make to remove these provisions.

Rodriguez, who works as an analyst for a government contractor, said it’s important to at least talk about the issue.

“I think it’s really relevant to what’s going on in the bigger world right now,” she said.