Philadelphia Is the City of the Year

Suddenly, Philadelphia has become a model city, with a Super Bowl-winning (and Trump-defying) NFL team and a new radical political class. Oh, and Meek Mill is finally free. We asked some of our favorite locals why they're celebrating 2018.
illustration of gritty swinging from the liberty bell
Illustration by Simon Abranowicz

To be from Philadelphia is to be accustomed to losing. We have a history of losing. You learn about it in school. Every year we'd make the trek out to Valley Forge, 24 miles northwest of the city, where George Washington's army sheltered in place after losing first downtown and then the neighborhood I grew up in, Germantown, in a series of terrible defeats. Winter hit in Valley Forge, and Washington lost thousands more men. We'd go into their freezing huts, which still stand, and imagine loss.

Later we were the nation's capital, until we weren't. Our baseball team, the Phillies, has the distinction of having lost more games than any other professional sports franchise in the country. This magazine called us the “meanest fans in America.” One of our stadiums had jails and judges in it. Until recently, our one victorious athlete was Rocky Balboa, who is a fictional character. But then a weird thing happened: We started winning. I don't just mean the Super Bowl, which, you may recall, the Eagles won on February 4, 2018, in a thrilling 41–33 victory over the New England Patriots, who came out onto the field to the song “Crazy Train” for some reason. We came out to Meek Mill's “Dreams and Nightmares.” Even my parents were saying: “Free Meek Mill.” Then, in April, Meek Mill was freed. The first thing he did was take a helicopter to a Philadelphia 76ers game to see Ben Simmons and Joel Embiid play, because Simmons and Embiid are fucking amazing.

Eagles players became activists, speaking out about the flawed criminal-justice system. Donald Trump disinvited the team from visiting the White House out of spite; our mayor, Jim Kenney, then called our president “a fragile egomaniac obsessed with crowd size.” Our recently elected district attorney, Larry Krasner, is the most progressive D.A. in the entire country. Our restaurants now regularly grace *Bon Appétit'*s Best New Restaurants list. Will Smith joined Instagram and immediately became incredible at it. You don't have to sell your plasma or your soul to afford an apartment in the city. It just feels…different in Philadelphia these days. Downright victorious, even.

Zach Baron


Chris Szagola

Malcolm Jenkins

Safety for the Philadelphia Eagles

GQ: What was your first impression of Philadelphia when you got there?
Malcom Jenkins: I was coming from New Orleans, so I was surprised that the food was as good as it was, that Philly had so many good restaurants. Because I was worried about that.

Philadelphia's fans have a reputation for being difficult.
Our fans are no worse than my dad. My dad is one of those guys who, after a game, says, “What happened on that tackle? How'd you miss that?”

What was it like during your run to the Super Bowl last year?
It was crazy—especially the more wins we had. It was a fun energy. But also, nobody wanted to get overly excited. Philly's had some disappointing things happen to their teams. So they were a little nervous, right to the end. Like, “Is this going to be another one of those years, where we get hit by a jinx?” [Quarterback] Carson Wentz gets hurt at the end of the year: “Aw, here it is—it's a curse!” But luckily as players we didn't really buy into that.

How did you feel about being disinvited to the White House by President Trump?
It didn't bother me. I wasn't going to go, anyway. I think it was a little disappointing for the guys who wanted to go. Their entire lives they've dreamed of winning the Super Bowl and going to the White House, partaking in that tradition. But that was a decision that came from the team. They were only going to send like a couple delegates, and I guess the White House didn't want that. But it didn't stop our celebration. We kept it moving and enjoyed our off-season.

Z.B.


Charles Fox

Larry Krasner

District attorney

Larry Krasner was a teenage grease monkey. “One of the things I figured out back in 1978 was that when you tune a car, it gets better gas mileage, it gets quieter, it accelerates more quickly. There are just some kinds of systems, if you can get them to run better, they run better in many different ways.” Now, as Philadelphia's district attorney, Krasner is taking his wrench to the criminal-justice system.

In just a year on the job, he's instituted a sweeping set of reforms—reducing sentences, getting rid of cash bail for a host of nonviolent crimes, and not even prosecuting some offenses, like marijuana possession, at all. The result? Philadelphia's jail population has decreased by more than 20 percent—and crime is down, too. In the process, Philly has become a model of what a progressive, humane, and effective big-city law-enforcement operation looks like.

Krasner is an avowed liberal who spent 30 years as a criminal defense attorney and who isn't afraid to express his disdain for law-and-order types—“a notorious racist, a guy who, frankly, in my view, gets misty when he thinks about lynching,” he said of Attorney General Jeff Sessions—and his election last year was a watershed. “Philadelphia is fertile ground right now for criminal-justice reform for a lot of reasons—and one reason is, frankly, the past, of going the wrong direction for so long,” he says. “That had really alienated voters and had alienated the general population of the city, and made them very distrustful of the court system and to some extent of the district attorney's office and of the police department, so I think some of that bad history is exactly why it has a good future.”

Jason Zengerle


Lisa Lake

Meek Mill

Rapper and favorite son

I came up in the ghetto in North Philly. There was a lot of chaos going on. Just growing up in the wild, jungle-style environment, being a kid and just making it through. In 2007, I was falsely accused: A cop said I pointed a gun at him. And now I'm out on bail and still under supervision in 2018 because of that.

When I was in jail, the Eagles adopted my song “Dreams and Nightmares” as their theme song. It was a good feeling, just knowing I had support. I was in my cell watching the Super Bowl, and I saw the Eagles coming out to my song. I've been an Eagles fan most of my life, so just to see that was crazy for me. It wasn't really about the words and the lyrics; it was just about the excitement it brought the players and the energy it brought the players. I saw a YouTube clip of everyone saying, “Free Meek Mill.” There was cops, police officers, saying it. All the fans that rallied on Broad Street after the Eagles won were saying it. So, you know, it was a big thing. And then I got out.

I feel great about the city right now. I think the new D.A. they elected has integrity. It's good that we have somebody in office who's not just looking for convictions. We got a great mayor, we got a great governor of Pennsylvania. We got Ben Simmons, Joel Embiid, the rest of the Sixers—they're connected to the community. Despite all the adversity we've been through, it feels like our time right now.

As told to Zach Baron



Cristina Martínez

Chef and co-owner, South Philly Barbacoa

GQ: What do you like best about Philadelphia?
Cristina Martínez: People are very attentive to our work here. The restaurant is busy at 5 a.m. My restaurant has had an impact on not only the Latino community but all the restaurants in the city.

Were you surprised that barbacoa could become so popular here?
Barbacoa is a food to bring families together. It's also an affordable option for the community—I have the nourishment of hundreds of families in my hands. I feel a commitment to make sure everything is perfect when we are prepping for the day.

What do you like to do in the city when you aren't working?
I like to visit Amis, the Italian restaurant where I met my husband. It's motivation for me. And I like to visit the studio of an artist called Isaiah Zagar, who has transformed the city with his murals.

How do chefs fight for the rights of undocumented immigrants?
We are organizing 12 dinners with 12 different restaurants, bringing together cooks, chefs, and supporters with the lawyers and activists to listen to the needs of fellow restaurant workers that are undocumented like myself. We are working in the darkness.

Do you feel more pressure to keep silent now that Trump is president?
We are here. We work hard. Sometimes I feel that when a person speaks the truth, it makes people uncomfortable; sometimes they come after you. But someone has to do it. So here I am. I'm not scared.

Camila Pérez

This story originally appeared in the December 2018/January 2019 issue with the title "Philly (Is) Special."