Carey Street, named after 18th-century port merchant, councilman and Quaker abolitionist James Carey, runs through some of the most challenged neighborhoods of West Baltimore.
A mile and a half east in the downtown commercial district stands the gleaming Johns Hopkins Carey Business School, which is celebrating this week the inauguration of its first dean, thanks to a $50 million gift in 2006 from William Polk Carey, the merchant's great-great-great-grandson.
The New Yorker's commitment to his hometown and family legacy does not end there. The 77-year-old real estate financier said yesterday that he wants to help restore the city to the commercial glory his forebears knew and intends a major bequest that could permanently ensure that the Carey name is once more associated with Baltimore's economic revival.
"We will rise again," he said.
After receiving a ceremonial key to the city from Mayor Sheila Dixon, Carey said in an interview that he intends to leave the bulk of his estate to a foundation bearing his name, which has focused in large part on Baltimore schools. A private man, Carey prefers not to discuss his personal wealth, but he owns about 30 percent of the W.P. Carey & Co. investment firm, which has a market value of roughly $1.2 billion.
A sizable bequest, therefore, would propel the W.P. Carey Foundation, which now has about $20 million in assets, into the top ranks of grant-making associations focused on the city. In recent years, Carey and his foundation have given about $65 million to area institutions, including the Gilman School, the Calvert School, the Bryn Mawr School, the Baltimore School for the Arts, the Maryland Historical Society and the Johns Hopkins University, where Carey was a trustee.
"Our goal ... is to continue the revitalization of the economy in Baltimore ... and return it to the leadership position it had in 1797," the year James Carey was elected to the City Council, William Carey told the mayor yesterday. "And it's moving in that direction."
The soft-spoken banker, who is unmarried and has no children, was flanked by about 20 relatives and trustees of his foundation, representing three generations of Careys. Most have never lived in Baltimore but say their personal and philanthropic commitment to the city has been handed down through generations.
