Marian Anderson is having a moment in Philly. So, why doesn’t her museum get the respect it deserves?

A child-sized piano sits atop a grand ivory-keyed Steinway & Sons in the Marian Anderson Museum and Historical Society’s restored parlor.

During a recent visit, the museum’s steward, Jillian Patricia Pirtle, tinkered with a refurbished chandelier lamp on top of the Steinway and a soft glow streamed through the crystals.

“This is the first time I’ve plugged it in,” Pirtle said, the rapid staccato of her high-pitched voice belying a weary fatigue. “[Marian] got this lamp when she was on a European tour in 1929.”

The Marian Anderson Museum and Historical Society reopened Saturday, March 1, after massive flooding and hurricane winds caused extensive damage to the basement, the roof, and dozens of precious artifacts including the piano and the chandelier lamp. The reopening coincided with the start of Women’s History Month and Anderson’s birthday. She would have been 128 years old on Feb. 27.

Anderson’s many claims to fame include her historic performance at the Lincoln Memorial in 1939 before an integrated crowd of 75,000 after the Daughters of the American Revolution barred her from performing at Constitution Hall because she was Black. In 1957, Anderson sang the national anthem at Dwight D. Eisenhower’s inauguration, further cementing her status as a superstar.

She was living in this two-story South Philly home on Martin Street when she sang at the Lincoln Memorial. Today many of the items filling the home are repaired artifacts, yet they still sparkle, so much so that every nook and cranny of the refurbished rowhouse is alive with Anderson’s spirit. “You can still feel her soul here,” Pirtle said.

Anderson’s legacy was thrust into the local spotlight last June when the Kimmel Center’s Verizon Hall was renamed Marian Anderson Hall. Philanthropists Leslie Anne Miller and her husband, Richard B. Worley, donated $25 million to the cause.

The rededication celebrations lasted an entire weekend, culminating with a star-studded concert hosted by Queen Latifah. However, the Marian Anderson Museum, situated less than a mile away from the Avenue of the Arts fete, did not participate. In fact, Kimmel organizers borrowed gowns and memorabilia from Connecticut’s Danbury Museum — more than 150 miles away.

Pirtle, who has been the CEO of the Marian Anderson Museum for seven years, is used to being snubbed. The Marian Anderson Awards, once an annual glitzy affair that has honored Oprah Winfrey and the late Quincy Jones, never included the Marian Anderson Museum in its events, let alone donated any money to the struggling museum.

But for the Kimmel Center and the Academy of Music, the city’s major musical institutions which, at the time, were actively working to make amends for past racial slights, to leave out the keeper of Anderson’s Philly home is disturbing. This wasn’t just an affront to Pirtle, it’s a slap in the face to South Philly’s historic Black community who nurtured Anderson’s talent and dignity.

The Kimmel Center never said why it didn’t invite the Marian Anderson Museum to participate. Pirtle refuses to speculate. She changes the subject, choosing to talk about how hard she’s been working to get the museum open in time. Overseeing the renovation of the house has taken its toll. She’s exhausted.

“I am a young Black woman trying to ensure the legacy of one of the world’s most important Black women,” Pirtle said. “Instead of coming to my defense …”

Her voice trails off.

In November, Pirtle’s mother, Patricia Jackson, died. Pirtle’s twin brother, Ashley, passed earlier this year, leaving her “all alone in the world.” Still, she pulled the reopening off. She had to. She promised her mentor and the Marian Anderson Museum’s founder, the late Blanche Burton-Lyles, that as long as she had breath she’d keep Anderson’s legacy alive on Martin Street, or Marian Anderson Way.

“For better or worse, she’s given up her life to make sure that museum runs and stays afloat,” said Pirtle’s attorney, Daniel J. Tann.

Anderson bought the 1,168-square-foot rowhouse at 762 Martin St. in 1924 after she returned from being on tour with African American promoter and pianist Billy King. She paid $4,000 cash — more than $73,000 in today’s dollars, adjusted for inflation.

She lived there with her mother until 1943 when she married Philadelphia architect Orpheus King Fisher; the couple then moved to Danbury. Anderson suffered a stroke in 1992 and was moved to Oregon to be near her nephew, James DePreist. (DePreist, the late music director of the Oregon Symphony, is known for jazzing up The Cosby Show theme for Season 5.)

Anderson died in 1993 at 96. DePreist, who inherited Anderson’s property, sold the house — then worth $65,000, according to city records — to Burton-Lyles in 1998. Burton-Lyles, Pirtle said, opened the museum later that year.

“Miss Blanche was a 7-year-old child prodigy when she sat in this very living room and played piano for Marian Anderson,” Pirtle said.

It was Anderson who recommended Burton-Lyles for early admission to the Curtis Institute, and in 1954, Burton-Lyles became the first Black woman to graduate from the school. She went on to have a stellar career as a concert pianist, performing for Eleanor Roosevelt, Thurgood Marshall, and the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Pirtle met Burton-Lyles when she was a rising sophomore at South Philly’s High School for Creative and Performing Arts. Burton-Lyles often scouted the school for talent.

In 2000, Pirtle joined Burton-Lyles at the museum and became one of its Marian Anderson Scholar Artists. She was working here when Burton-Lyles applied for and received city, state, and federal landmark designations for the house. “She did the hard work, ensuring Anderson’s legacy,” Pirtle said.

Pirtle graduated from the University of the Arts in 2004. She won Miss Black Pennsylvania in 2011. In 2012, Burton-Lyles promoted her to chief operating officer of the museum. When Burton-Lyles died in 2018, Pirtle inherited the house and officially became the historical society’s CEO.

“This was Miss Burton-Lyles’ dream,” Pirtle said. “And through it all, the property has always been stewarded by Black women.”

Pirtle has maintained the museum and run the scholars’ program on a shoestring budget for the last eight years. Keeping up with the building’s structural issues has been a challenge.

In 2020, a pipe burst, flooding the basement and the first floor. Irreplaceable memorabilia — playbills, letters, and journals — were ruined. The Preservation Alliance For Greater Philadelphia helped Pirtle secure a $75,000 grant from the African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund. The alliance also commissioned a $20,000 study to discover previously existing structural problems.

“The flood gave the historical museum the opportunity to go beyond the flood damage and address other issues related to the building’s condition,” explained Paul Steinke, the alliance’s executive director. “They included new windows, a new roof, and other [safety enhancements] needed to run a museum.”

The following August, the museum sustained additional damage when wind gusts from Hurricane Ida caused the roof to collapse. Five of Anderson’s gowns were ruined.

Pirtle worked even harder to pull money from additional resources including the Daughters of the American Revolution, the state of Pennsylvania, and the city, which has given a total of $450,000 in funding. She’s secured just under $1 million for rehabilitation and continued maintenance, working closely with Center City-based contractors C. Erickson & Sons on the renovations.

“I am honored to have played a role in securing funding for this important historic landmark,” said Philadelphia City Council President Kenyatta Johnson, who represents the 2nd District, where the museum is. “Marian Anderson was a trailblazer, artist, and humanitarian who continues to inspire.”

“Marian Anderson: The Philadelphia Story,” the reopening exhibition, is up now.

It features 12 restored gowns and a 1946 Time magazine cover. A second floor room is dedicated to the memory of Anderson’s mother, Anna Rucker Anderson. In there you will find her glasses and the family Bible. Another room is dedicated to the memory of Burton-Lyles.

Downstairs, the same RCA Victor phonograph Anderson entertained legends Lena Horne and Count Basie with, sits in the front parlor. Anderson’s ivory christening gown is draped on a pint-size mannequin, perched on the mantelpiece.

In the far left corner of the parlor sits a sepia-toned daguerreotype of Anderson wearing the tiny dress when she was just a year old. Anderson’s eyes are wide, but her smile is small. This baby girl’s soul fills the room with historical energy. The energy that keeps Pirtle going.

The Marian Anderson Museum and Historical Society is at 762 S. Martin St.