BALTIMORE — Leonard “Larry” Washington is 100 years old and will turn 101 next month, but every week he still takes his post at the front door of Baltimore’s Arch Social Club.
Drafted into the Army in 1943, Washington served three years as a supply cook, military police officer, and janitor, keeping the fires going. On the front lines of Normandy, he manned a .50-caliber machine gun, earning the nickname “Bazooka Man.”
“I was the one that supposed to be stopping and protecting the truck, I was a .50 caliber machine gunner. I was a Boozoka Man, shoot that boozka… yeah,” Washington recalled.
Back then, he says, it was hard for Black soldiers to rise in rank.
“I wasn’t worried about it. When I got PFC, that was just like me getting 100 laughs,” he said of achieving private first class status.
When Washington came home on October 25, 1945, he immediately joined the Arch Social Club. Founded in 1905 and incorporated in 1912—12 years before Washington was born—the club grew out of segregation to become a safe space for Black Baltimoreans to gather, learn and organize.
Kaleb Tshambe, a member and club historian, said the institution is rooted in resilience.
“They were the first generation of men coming out of slavery born free, and this is what they started,” Tshambe said. “Back then, there weren’t a lot of places for people to go.”
The Arch Social Club moved to its current home—the former Morgan Theatre at Pennsylvania and North Avenues—in 1972. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2025, it remains the last venue for live jazz on Baltimore’s historic Pennsylvania Avenue strip.
For decades, Washington has lived near the club and served as its doorman, upholding a simple code.
“Nobody could come in if I didn’t want you to come in,” he said.
“Police came in…” Washington recalled. “Did you let them in?” a reporter asked. “No,” Washington answered.
Tshambe said the longtime doorman is a fixture.
“Mr. Washington, he was the doorman—everybody knows him,” Tshambe said.
Washington’s dedication goes beyond guarding the door.
“All the profit I make, I give it to the club,” he said. “Everything you give it back to the Arch Social Club?” the reporter asked. “Yes.” “It’s that important to you?” “It’s that important to me,” Washington replied.
Tshambe said Washington embodies the club’s motto of service.
“What people don’t realize is, once a soldier, always a soldier,” he said.
Looking out over Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington calls the club his home.
“I live here, this is my home,” he said with a smile.
A century-old veteran, still guarding a club even older than he is, Washington represents a living link between Baltimore’s past and present.