All language subtitles for A.E.S15E09.1080p.WEB.h264-CODSWALLOP_track3_[eng]

A secretive complex in Bulgaria,
part of a global information war.

WOMAN:These communist states
were willing to do anything

to stop people telling the truth.

A French compound where a staggering
deception was launched.

What unfolded was one of the great
spy stories of the Second World War.

An iconic Philadelphia venue

that set the stage
for era-defining artists.

All these famous entertainers,
it was electric in here.

And a mansion in Malaysia,
the scene of a baffling crime.

MAN:This house was the site of
a brutal killing.

His body was found with a shotgun
wound to the back of the head.

80 miles from the Bulgarian
capital Sofia

is a hidden facility,

the propaganda mouthpiece
of a repressive regime.

MAN:There's forest as far
as the eye can see.

It feels remote, out of the way,

the perfect place
to hide something.

MAN 2:Then out of trees rises
this structure.

The whole thing has
an ominous feel.

WOMAN:It's massive and concrete.

It is one of these Eastern European
communist monoliths.

Among the derelict remains,

there are clues to why it was built
in such an isolated location.

Inside, it's been virtually
stripped to the walls,

but there's a few hints that it was
a highly technological structure.

There are these channels
cut into the floor,

maybe for pipes or cables.

You can also see platforms

that look like the bases
for some kind of machinery.

It has its own power line
leading to it,

so clearly, whatever happened here

required an enormous amount
of electricity.

Could this have been some kind
of secret government office

or military research facility?

It was created to fight
a disinformation campaign

from deep behind the Iron Curtain.

But when the West gained the edge,

this Cold War confrontation
turned hot.

The Bulgarian Government's control
over information

was so complete and so paranoid,

they were even willing to launch

a daring assassination in
the streets of London.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

Spiridon Harizanov began working
here as a technician

in September 1988,

when Bulgaria was part of
the communist Soviet bloc.

Construction on this high security
government complex began in 1974.

But it was designed
to take part in a fight

that began decades earlier.

The Cold War was as much a political

and ideological battle
as a military confrontation.

As the Eastern and Western
superpowers were facing off

with their nuclear arsenals,

another unseen battle was unfolding

over the airwaves.

These structures were part
of communist Bulgaria's attempt

to convert the world
to their way of thinking,

using international
radio broadcasting.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

This complex had enough power,
it was said,

to broadcast a shortwave signal
six times around the world.

The people who worked here
would work in 24-hour shifts,

and the transmissions went
all through the year,

even on holidays, 24 hours a day.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

This is the Padarsko Radio Centre.

Transmissions from here
included speeches

by the country's leader,
Todor Zhivkov,

praising Bulgaria as a socialist
workers' paradise,

The reality was very different.

HARIZANOV, IN BULGARIAN:

People were not permitted
to know anything

that their dictators didn't want
them to know.

So Western nations set up
operations to broadcast

to various countries behind
the Iron Curtain.

There were stations like
the Voice of America,

Radio Free Europe,
Radio Liberty and the BBC

which all beamed programming
direct into Bulgaria

and the Soviet Union.

NUSBACHER:And all of these
radio stations are designed

to have real journalists
sending real news

to parts of the world where all they
were fed

was government propaganda.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

They also broadcast
a lot of interviews

with political leaders like
President Eisenhower

or John F Kennedy,

entertainers like Elizabeth Taylor
and Tom Jones,

civil rights leaders including
Martin Luther King.

But it wasn't just American voices
and celebrities

that were beaming into Bulgaria.

Exiles and dissidents
were brought in

to broadcast their criticisms of
the regime back into the country.

Help us to keep our young people

from falling under the influence
of the communists.

In 1969, one of these political
opponents fled to the West.

From there, he took to the airwaves

attacking the Bulgarian regime.

His name was Georgi Markov.

SELWOOD:He had settled in England,

where he worked
for Radio Free Europe,

the BBC and other radio stations,

broadcasting back into his
home country.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

NUSBACHER:Markov is being
very pointed

in his criticism
of the Bulgarian government,

and of Todor Zhivkov, who
was the Bulgarian dictator.

Markoff is a very
dangerous nuisance.

Fearing his shows would incite
a rebellion,

Bulgarian authorities turned
to facilities like Padarsko.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

MEIGS:During shows they thought
were particularly damaging,

like Markov's shows,

they would tune to that channel,

broadcast on the same frequency
interfering noise,

music, crazy sounds.

MAN ON RADIO:
Here's the Soviet government's

$120 million a year direct answer
to Radio Liberty.

Jamming.

MEIGS:And they didn't just do it
from this station,

they had transmitters across
the country

that existed just to block out
signals coming in from the West.

According to one estimate,

the Soviet government spent
over $900 million a year

to block Western broadcasts.

This was more than
the combined global budgets

of the radio stations they were
trying to block out.

But even with this huge investment,

they weren't that successful
at blocking these transmissions.

A person could arrange
their antenna in a certain way,

or maybe drive out
in the countryside,

and they could often wind up
hearing these broadcasts.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

Georgi Markov's blistering
criticisms of the Bulgarian leader,

broadcast from London,
continued to be heard.

MEIGS:The Bulgarian authorities
were so outraged

at Markov's transmissions...

they were really hitting home
with the Bulgarian public...

..that they took
a desperate measure.

SELWOOD:On September the 7th 1978,

Markov was walking across
London's Waterloo Bridge,

heading for his job at the BBC.

Suddenly, he felt
a sharp pain in his leg,

as if he'd been stung by an insect.

NUSBACHER:When that happened,
he saw somebody bend over

and pick up an umbrella
and walk away.

And he thought no more about it.

MEIGS:But, by that evening,
he was deathly ill

and went to the hospital.

They couldn't really figure out
what was wrong with him,

except for a tiny puncture
in the back of his leg,

but four days later, he was dead.

NUSBACHER:
There is a widespread theory

that a Bulgarian
Secret Service officer

had an umbrella capable

of injecting a pellet
of ricin poison

into Markov's leg,

and the poison killed him.

Every word he said over the radio

was damaging to the Bulgarian
Communist Party.

Markov had to be stopped,
and he was.

Across the West,
the attack was front page news.

But in Bulgaria, the official line
was complete silence.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

Markov's killers
were never bought to justice,

and Padarsko continued to operate

until a wave of democratic protests

finally toppled the regime
in the late 1980s.

HARIZANOV, IN BULGARIAN:

In 1990, Todor Zhikov was arrested

and put on trial for corruption
and abuse of power.

He died while under house arrest
eight years later.

This facility was still used
to transmit Radio Bulgaria

for another couple of decades.

SPEAKING BULGARIAN:

MEIGS:No one has nostalgic
memories of this facility,

no one is organising fundraising

to restore it or turn it into
a park or museum.

It sits here,
out in the forest, abandoned.

A bad memory of a very dark time.

In Malaysia's Penang Province,

tales of haunting and violence swirl
around an isolated relic.

MEIGS:We're in a lush tropical area,

and at first, all you see is trees,
it looks like an unbroken forest.

WOMAN:In the middle of it all
is this large, imposing ruin.

Clearly, no one has lived here
for a very long time.

But the sparse interior does hold
evidence of who built this place.

SELWOOD:You can tell it was
once a luxurious residence

for a very wealthy person,

but it doesn't look like
a traditional Malay building.

It's been built from heavy stone
with palatial European features.

It was constructed using the profits
from an incredible resource boom.

But, as a family tried to reassert
dominance over this land,

it became the scene of
a twisted crime.

WOMAN:It's one of Malaysia's most
famous unsolved murders,

but there are no shortage
of theories.

MAN:This is what we call
a secret, mysterious place.

You could feel the presence
of something in the past.

When Clement Liang first visited
this grand ruin,

locals told him about a spirit they
believe still stalks these halls.

LIANG:When I came here in 2006,

there was actually a picture
of a Hindu god on the staircase.

So I was curious and asked
the caretaker, "Why you did it?"

"Oh, the spirit
of John is still around.

"We need to have some deity
to console his spirit."

John's full name was
John St Maur Ramsden.

He was part of a colonial dynasty

that controlled vast amounts of land
in British Malaya in the 1870s.

SELWOOD:At first, the estate
grew sugar cane,

but a technological advancement

would lead to a far more lucrative
crop being grown here.

This radical transformation began
with a revolutionary discovery

made more than 9,000 miles away
in the United States.

MEIGS:In the mid 19th century,
a self-taught American chemist

named Charles Goodyear started
tinkering with rubber

to try to make it more durable
and tougher and more elastic.

Eventually, he came across
a formula that was stretchy

but could return
to its original shape.

There was nothing quite like it.

Rubber very quickly became

one of the most in-demand products
in the world.

Malaysia turned out to be one of
the best places to grow rubber,

and, within a few years,

was making more than a third
of the world's supply.

LIANG:The Ramsden family
changed all this

into a huge rubber plantation.

Instead of travelling
from Britain themselves,

they hired managers to run
the estates.

This building was built in 1917

to be the administration,

and also the residence
for the managers.

One thing about the British,

they also liked to build
huge buildings, mansions like this,

to show the power
and the authority.

So a grand building here

would assert a kind of authority
over the plantation workers.

This was the jewel in
the crown of the plantation,

and it was called Caledonia House.

For decades, demand
for rubber continued to grow,

and from their luxurious mansion,

the Ramsden family's managers oversaw
an increasingly diverse workforce.

MEIGS:As the economy grew,
it pulled in

hundreds of thousands of immigrants
from China and elsewhere,

who mixed with the indigenous
Malaysian population.

ROSE:The family were
raking in the cash.

At the time, it was said to be

the most valuable European holding
in British Malaya.

But this massive wealth was being
watched jealously from overseas.

And soon, war would bring disaster
to Caledonia Plantation.

On December the 8th 1941,

almost simultaneously with their
attack on Pearl Harbor,

the Japanese army invaded
British Malaya.

MEIGS:Malaya had
enormous resources,

including these rubber plantations.

Those were vital
for Japan's military efforts.

They swept through
the country at lightening speed,

and after just three months,

the unprepared British
surrendered in Singapore.

Caledonia was now under
Japanese occupation.

But the British would go
to great lengths

to regain control
of the valuable colony.

MEIGS:They needed to find help
wherever they could,

and in many countries,
there were insurgent groups

fighting the occupiers.

Many of these groups were inspired
by communist ideology,

but the Allies decided to fund them

and support them
and give them weapons,

because they needed that help
behind enemy lines

to undermine the Japanese.

With the communists' help,
Japan was finally defeated in 1945.

But when Britain returned to Malaya,

these guerrilla fighters
switched their focus

from one
colonial oppressor to another.

LIANG:The British
wanted these guerrillas

to surrender their weapons,

but they wanted to liberate Malaya
from the British control.

So they actually started
a war again.

To these insurgents,
families like the Ramsdens

were the ultimate symbol
of colonial exploitation.

In the face of this growing
armed resistance,

there was still money to be made,

and the Ramsden family
returned to the ruins of Caledonia.

SELWOOD:The patriarch of the family

sent his son John
to repair the estate.

He went right to work,
getting the rubber trees planted,

and the latex harvested,
and just putting things right.

SELWOOD:He is said to have treated
the plantation workers well,

offering them lavish dinners
at the house

and having their children driven
to school in his car.

ROSE:But no matter how good

his relationship
with the workers might have been,

at the end of the day,
this was a colonial enterprise

that was built
on racism and inequality.

Two years after John Ramsden
arrived here,

these tensions came to a head.

LIANG:On the 8th of June 1948,

it was a hot, steamy evening.

John just finished his work.

He was staying here alone.

And he walked back,

and he was about to climb up
the stairs.

Two gunshots were heard.
Bang, bang!

The estate watchman
and three plantation workers

heard the shots and rushed inside.

And they all found John
lying on this staircase

with blood gushing out.

And he died, right on this spot.

When the police arrived,

they began combing the mansion
and its grounds for evidence.

Outside, they found two spent
shotgun shells

underneath one of the rubber trees.

MEIG:Very quickly,
John Ramsden's murder

got connected
with a much bigger story.

Over the following couple of weeks,

other overseers of plantations
in Malaysia were also killed.

And these killings were
connected with

the communist insurgency
that was sweeping the islands.

The British planters
were seen as their target,

cos they represent
the British authority

exploiting the local workers.

So there are some saying that yes,

John was also murdered
by these communist guerrillas.

But William Haines,

the police officer in charge
of this investigation,

was far from convinced that
this was a political assassination.

He believed evidence
uncovered at the murder scene

pointed towards an inside job.

SELWOOD:Near the body,
they found a pair of shoes

that didn't seem to belong to
anybody working at the residence.

LIANG:They found out later
these shoes belonged

to a worker by the name
of Mohammad Ramjan.

ROSE:It seemed like
an open and shut case,

but he claimed he'd been framed.

MEIGS:Another suspect was
John Ramsden's driver,

and it was said that
Ramsden was having an affair

with the driver's sister,

so he might have had
a powerful motive for the killing.

Both Mohammad Ramjan
and the driver were arrested.

But with only circumstantial
evidence implicating the pair,

they were eventually released.

On the 3rd of September 1948,

87 days after John's murder,

the investigation was called off.

LIANG:So we're still wondering
who actually killed Mr John Ramsden.

It's still a big, big mystery.

SELWOOD:Back in Britain, the
Ramsden family were so heartbroken

that they ordered the liquidation
of all of their holdings in Malaya,

including the Caledonia plantation.

After a long and brutal insurgency
against British rule,

in 1963, the independent country
of Malaysia was established.

And Caledonia House was left to ruin.

ROSE:After its abandonment,

life for Caledonia House
went from bad to worse.

SELWOOD:In 2020,
a fire ripped through the property,

and later, a commercial crane
working nearby

tipped over
and smashed through the roof.

LIANG:Caledonia House has such
a significant historical value

that I hope people one day
would be able

to not only save it
but restore the whole building

and let us know more about
the history of this place.

In the French capital,

a decaying compound holds secrets
of an extraordinary deception.

We're in the quiet outskirts
of Paris,

and, under this
looming broadcast tower

is a collection of buildings that
look significantly older.

This feels institutional,
or perhaps military.

But as you look closer, you notice
something more sinister.

WOMAN:Built into these walls are
rows of casemates,

but instead of windows,
they have heavy iron bars.

These were clearly repurposed
as prison cells.

But who were they keeping here?

During the Second World War,
thousands were detained here.

But one man would escape these walls

and do untold damage
to the Nazi regime.

NUSBACHER:He convinces
British counterintelligence

that he really is a German spy

who is willing to be a double agent.

MAN:He would become
one of the most notorious spies

of his entire generation.

He was known as Agent Zigzag.

Thomas Fontaine has spent decades

uncovering the story
of this decaying fortification.

FONTAINE SPEAKING FRENCH:

It was built in the 1830s

as part of a ring of defences
around Paris.

But these days, it's not known
for its protection of the city,

but rather something
far more menacing.

NUSBACHER:In May and June of 1940,

the German armed forces
very rapidly encircled

the French and British armies
in northeastern France.

The French state surrenders.

Paris was under occupation.

MAN:Here on the edge of the city
was a valuable asset,

and the Germans weren't gonna
let that go to waste.

The Nazi occupiers quickly
transformed it

from a place to keep enemies out
into a facility to contain them.

This is Fort de Romainville.

FONTAINE, IN FRENCH:

One of those inmates

was an English petty criminal
called Eddie Chapman.

Eddie Chapman was
a British criminal

who led a lavish life in London,

supported by the forging of cheques
and burglary.

In 1939, he was arrested
and sent to prison in Jersey.

In the summer of 1940,

Germany invaded and occupied the
Channel Islands, including Jersey.

Chapman was briefly released,

but then rearrested on suspicion
of working for the resistance.

NUSBACHER:
So, Chapman is sent to prison.

And where is he sent to prison?
Not in Jersey.

They send him to France,
they send him to Fort Romainville.

FONTAINE, IN FRENCH:

MITCHELL:There was no contact
with the outside world,

rations were strict,

and prisoners could be executed
without any explanation or warning.

AUERBACH:Chapman realised
he wasn't gonna survive this place,

and, four months into his
imprisonment, he found a lifeline.

His salvation came from
a shadowy Nazi organisation,

the Abwehr,
Germany's intelligence service.

FONTAINE, IN FRENCH:

NUSBACHER:From the beginning
of the Second World War,

the Germans had
tremendous difficulty

recruiting agents in England.

So the German intelligence people
go to Chapman

and they say, "Can you go
and be a German agent?"

Chapman accepts
the German intelligence offer.

And he's told that he needs
to blow up

the de Havilland
aircraft factory in England.

After some training in spy craft
and a new nickname, Little Fritz,

Chapman departed
on his first mission.

On the 16th of December 1942,

Chapman parachuted into Britain.

He was carrying a radio, a pistol,

a cyanide pill and close
to £1,000 in cash.

On the morning of
the 1st of February 1943,

British newspapers reported
an unexplained explosion

at the de Havilland factory.

NUSBACHER:As far as
the Germans are concerned,

this new agent of theirs,
Mr Chapman,

is now the great star of
the German intelligence service.

But he had been conning German
intelligence from the very start.

For Chapman, the idea of being
able to get out of jail...

Well, he'll do anything, won't he?

And as soon as he gets
on the ground,

as soon as he has a chance,

he tells British counterintelligence
what he is up to.

So, in order to build his
credibility,

the British armed forces

simulate the destruction
of the de Havilland factory.

They arrange the fake sabotage
of the airplane plant

using an illusionist and a planted
story in the newspaper.

Nazi intelligence bought the lie.

Chapman returned to Germany
under the guise

of having pulled off
a successful attack.

He was given a massive payment
and the Iron Cross,

the only British citizen
ever to receive the award.

Believing he was their best agent,

he was soon tasked
with a new mission.

MITCHELL:Chapman was parachuted
again into Britain in June of 1944

to report on the accuracy of
the V-1 and V-2 rockets

being fired across the Channel.

NUSBACHER:He tells his British
controllers what the job is,

and British counterintelligence

calculate exactly how wrong

they want the German aim to be.

Chapman was one of the most
successful double agents

of the entire war.

In November 1944, he was dismissed
by British intelligence

and continued his civilian life
in London.

By this time, the French prison where
he had been recruited by the Nazis

had been transformed.

It was now a transit camp
for French resistance fighters.

SPEAKING FRENCH

Before they left, they were held in
the fort's dank casemates.

FONTAINE, SPEAKING FRENCH:

These were the last records many
of these people would leave behind.

More than 3,800 women were detained
here

before they were sent
to Nazi concentration camps.

Fort de Romainville was
finally liberated

by the Allies in August 1944,

and it was abandoned by the French
military in the early 2000s.

After his dismissal
by British intelligence,

Eddie Chapman continued
living life on his own terms,

spending his time in the company
of glamorous women,

and becoming embroiled
in a gold smuggling operation.

Since 1945,
Parisians have held ceremonies here

to remember those imprisoned and
deported from Romainville.

Plans are underway to transform
parts of the fort into a museum.

FONTAINE, SPEAKING FRENCH:

In the US state of Pennsylvania
is a faded landmark,

once the life and soul of
an uptown district.

MAN:We're on the north side
of Philadelphia,

on a busy road flanked
by offices and shops.

WOMAN:One building
along this strip stands out,

and it looks like it's from
a different era.

ROSE:From its design,

with its ornate brickwork
and detailed carvings,

you can tell that this was
a building of importance

to the surrounding community.

WOMAN:There remains
part of a marquee

with the word "Uptown"
written on it.

This was clearly some type
of theatre or music venue.

Inside, the true extent
of its ruin becomes clear.

ROSE:In the main room,
there's a dramatic sight.

A gaping hole in
the roof lets in enough light

to illuminate a huge open space.

You can make out dozens of rows
of seats facing an elevated stage.

MAN:This may look forgotten now,

but in its heyday,
this was part of a network

that spanned
the whole of the East Coast

and fostered some of the greatest
entertainers of the 20th century.

ROSE:Ray Charles,
James Brown, Jackson Five,

this place played host to
the Who's Who of American icons.

WOMAN:But this wasn't just a place
for entertainment,

it was also a place for activism.

Wow. I haven't been here
since the '70s.

It's amazing.

My mom worked here as a cashier.

I wasn't allowed in the booth,
because she was handling money.

From the age of 14, Olivia Riley

spent many of her evenings
and weekends in this theatre.

I was kind of famous...
LAUGHS

..because everybody knew
she was my mother.

They kind of hung around me

because they can get in for free.

It was a lot of excitement,

because you were lookin' forward
to seein' all the acts.

They were all up-and-coming
and famous artists.

From its earliest days,

this was the cultural heart
of the neighbourhood.

It was built in the late 1920s,

an era of rapid expansion
in the city.

JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING

Philadelphia was one
of the most important

manufacturing centres in the world.

WOMAN:Factories and warehouses
dotted this area,

and soon neighbourhoods
of row homes were built

in order to accommodate the workers.

ROSE:As newcomers poured in,

there was an increase in demand
for entertainment venues.

On the 16th of February 1929,

Warner Brothers Studios opened

the lavish 2,000 seat Uptown Theatre.

ROSE:They spared no expense.
It had terracotta facades,

stained-glass windows
and velvet seats.

MAN:This was a luxurious way
to watch movies for everyone,

from the city's wealthy
industrialists

to working-class families.

On its opening night,

crowds flocked to see On Trial
starring Pauline Frederick.

It was the perfect choice

to showcase the Uptown's
cutting-edge design.

BELL:Hollywood was riding high
on the success of silent films,

and the Warner Brothers Studio
decided to take a gamble

on a revolutionary new development,

speaking films, known as talkies.

GUTIERREZ-ROMINE:This theatre
was specifically wired for sound.

The audio quality here
was second to none.

It seemed destined for success,

but just eight months
after it opened,

the country was struck by disaster.

The Wall Street Crash.

GUTIERREZ-ROMINE:This recession
resulted in the collapse

of most of Philadelphia's
manufacturing industry,

and over the next few decades,

many of its residents fled
to the suburbs.

But a change was coming
to this neighbourhood

that would give it a second life

and a brush with stardom.
JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING

GUTIERREZ-ROMINE:In 1952,
theatre mogul Samuel H Stiefel

bought the Uptown with plans
to completely repurpose it.

BELL:By this time, with migration
from Southern states,

North Philadelphia
had become a vibrant hub

of African-American
culture and arts.

ROSE:It had incredible acoustics

left over from its days
as a movie theatre,

and Stiefel saw an opportunity

to put it to new use
as a music venue.

GUTIERREZ-ROMINE:
But the Uptown Theatre

wasn't the only one of its kind.

Rather, it was part of a circuit

that stretched across
the entire East Coast.

Along with the Apollo in New York,

and the Howard Theatre
in Washington DC,

and the Regal in Chicago,
and many others,

this made up what was called
the Chitlin' Circuit.

RILEY:Because of racism,
African-American acts

couldn't perform in certain areas,

so they would do
the Chitlin' Circuit.

BELL:The Chitlin' Circuit gave
so many Black entertainers a chance

during the era of Jim Crow,

when they were barred
from white mainstream venues.

This stage would play host

to some of the era's most legendary
Black performers.

I saw every show
at least two times.

I didn't miss a show.

I saw the Jackson Five,

James Brown,

Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes

and Marvin Gaye,
I saw him so many times.

But my favourite was
the Isley Brothers

because that was a part of history.

At the end of their act they just
started singing "Shout",

and every time they sang "Shout!"
they'd jump,

everybody in the audience
would jump, it was electrifying.

Ron Isley created that song,
that night that I was here.

ROSE:These acts would come
for a few days, or even a week,

playing shows around the clock

for a ticket price
as low as 50 cents.

That's still only a little more
than five bucks in today's money.

BELL:On Saturdays, sometimes,

they'd even do five or six shows
back-to-back.

Tens of thousands of people came
through this auditorium in the 1960s,

and the theatre gained a reputation

as one of the country's
most iconic venues.

If there was one man responsible for
a lot of the Uptown's success,

it was the promoter, Georgie Woods.

RILEY:He had a nice voice,
he had a beautiful personality

and he captured
a lot of people's attention,

he drew a big crowd,
so they made him the MC.

GUTIERREZ-ROMINE:He was known for
bringing in incredible performers

at incredibly low prices.

it was reported that he got
the Supremes

to play for ten days for $400.

But Woods was not just
a radio DJ, MC and promoter.

He was a passionate advocate
for civil rights.

In 1963, he helped charter 21 buses
to take Philadelphians

to Dr Martin Luther King Jr's
historic march on Washington.

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

That same year, he used
the Uptown to support the cause.

GUTIERREZ-ROMINE:Georgie Woods
saw the Uptown Theatre

not just as an entertainment venue,
but as a vehicle for change.

BELL:Woods began organising
what he called freedom shows,

fundraisers
for civil rights organisations

right across the country.

These star-studded concerts
provided much needed funds

for charities
and civil rights organisations.

And Woods' contribution
to the movement

was soon recognised on
the stage where it all began.

He was even honoured by the NAACP

in a ceremony held right here
at the Uptown.

But the success
of the civil rights movement

in ending segregation
across the country

would have unintended consequences
for the Uptown Theatre.

Some say that after integration,

when Black performers
could go to more venues,

the importance of places like this
on the Chitlin' Circuit declined.

In 1972, Georgie Woods stopped
producing shows here.

And, as many residents
left for the suburbs

over the following years,
its fate was sealed.

RILEY:It closed because
of the neighbourhood changing,

I think that's what really happened.

The Uptown Theatre
finally shut its doors in 1978.

In 2001, the Uptown Entertainment
and Development Corporation

purchased the building.

They now hope to breathe new life
into this ageing structure.

RILEY:The plans is to get
the Uptown renovated,

restore it for the community.

A lot of things happened here.

The performers,
they couldn't have made it

unless they made it
here at the Uptown.

Everybody remembers coming here,
so it should be open.

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