Provenance

Courtesy Philadelphia City Paper
Built in 1894, the Lorraine was originally designed as a luxury apartment house for Philly’s nouveau-riche industrialists. Still counting their first millions, they spurned the elitism of Rittenhouse Square’s established wealth and stomped toward the outlands of North Philadelphia.

North Broad would hold the fortunes of the future, augured the kings of the Gilded Age, and the Lorraine would be its gem. She was built in grandeur on a 4-acre swath of land at the intersection of Broad Street and Ridge and Fairmount avenues. Ten stories of Pompeian brick and ornate marble. Oversized, lavish suites with tile-lined fireplaces and private servant staffs. A grand banquet hall. A polished barroom. Rooms even had electric lighting and telephone service.

In the early 1900s, North Broad began a shift from residential mansions to a commercial district, and the Lorraine was transformed into a luxurious hotel. Great galas and debutante balls were hosted in its banquet hall.

Father Divine, a bald, squat, itinerant African-American preacher, acquired the Lorraine for $485,000, assigned the deed to 300 of his followers, and commissioned the two-story, neon-red Divine Lorraine Hotel sign that still stamps the North Broad skyline. His properties were looked upon as “heavens” by his followers and were considered part of the “promised land.”

Father Divine opened the doors of the Lorraine to people of all races and creeds, and his rates were dirt-cheap. The hotel’s 246 rooms were often completely booked with clientele ranging from businessmen to holy rollers, traveling students to reformed stumblebums. Scores of Peace Mission Members lived and worked at the Divine.