Power: Sherman’s Last Stand
Reform school was first. Sherman and his six brothers and sisters grew up in the East Falls projects, living on their mom’s waitressing wages, with vague memories of a father who was never around. His family eventually moved out of the ghetto, but their upward climb ended in 1971 when Joe, the eldest son, was crippled in a motorcycle accident. He eventually lapsed into a vegetative state, where he remained until his death in 1995. Their mother became depressed, and Sherman ended up in a teen reform program in Fox Chase that instilled some much-needed discipline and focus.
Then came Beirut. Sherman earned a GED and became a chef in the Navy, never thinking he’d end up on a helicopter carrier off the shores of Lebanon, never imagining he’d fill his refrigerators with bodies after a bomb tore into the Marine barracks there in 1983, killing 241 servicemen. “That was an experience that would make anybody grow up real fast,” he says. Next thing you know, Sherman’s on a roof. Literally. After 10 years in the military, he found himself divorced, with a young daughter to care for, and returned home to Philly to raise her and find work — serving cocktails at the Monte Carlo Living Room by night, and by day, reading how-to brochures from a hardware store about roofing techniques. Customers at the Monte Carlo would slip him a tip, and he’d palm his business card in return. Eventually he built his own roofing company, but laying shingles and spreading hot tar do not a millionaire make, at least not for a long, long time.
That brings us, and Sherman, to West Philly, which in 1995 was actually sort of a mix between two of those other places — the Schuylkill Falls projects and Beirut. While working his roofing jobs, Sherman began renovating properties, and saw there were plenty available beyond the Maginot Line of 42nd Street. He started snapping up and rehabbing real estate, a risky move — until a year later, when Penn began aggressively attacking the crime zone outside the university’s borders. Suddenly, Sherman was sitting on an impressive portfolio west of the Schuylkill, one that’s worth more than $20 million today.
