Community Supports Broadway Icon Facing Homelessness
A 95-year-old trailblazer and Broadway icon is receiving a wave of support from her local community, as she faces the possibility of losing her home in Hell’s Kitchen, which she has cherished for over fifty years.
Nat Horne, an original member of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, is surrounded by thousands—neighbors, former students, and even strangers—who worry about her well-being as she may have to leave her long-time Manhattan residence for a nursing home. “If they took me away, I would probably die,” said Horne, who will celebrate her 96th birthday in December.
“This is my home,” she firmly stated.
Horne has depleted much of her savings to afford home care and can no longer maintain her expenses. After being diagnosed with dementia in the spring of 2023, her memory has been gradually fading. Yet, she finds comfort in the familiar walls of her living room, which echo her vibrant past.
Her third-floor apartment on 47th Street is adorned with movie posters and memorabilia representing her illustrious career, featuring photos of stars like Lauren Bacall, Lena Horne, and Martin Sheen.
Despite her challenges—dementia, legal blindness, and recovery from hip replacement surgery—Horne remains energetic, according to Stanley Harrison, a long-time friend and former student who visits her almost daily.
Horne also makes appearances on a YouTube show, “Erin Lee and Friends,” hosted by a neighbor, where she sings songs from the many Broadway shows she’s contributed to.
However, a fall last spring necessitated around-the-clock care, which has exhausted the retirement savings she accumulated over decades in dance and teaching. By August, it became clear to friends that she could only sustain herself until December.
Fortunately, many from her community have stepped in, determined not to lose the beloved figure who has made Hell’s Kitchen feel like home since 1968.
“It’s his attitude, his generosity, his spirit and what he gave us,” Harrison remarked. Reflecting on Horne’s positive influence, he recalled, “He used to tell us, ‘You are gods and goddesses. Hold your heads high. You deserve to be special.’ That kind of generosity is contagious.”
Locals have affectionately named her the “Mayor of 47th Street,” feeling it’s their responsibility to give back to someone who has always been a friendly presence, even in her later years.
Horne’s legacy in the New York entertainment scene is extensive, having originally been the first black member of the U.S. Army’s Special Services. After a stint entertaining troops during the Korean War, he moved to New York to pursue a career in the arts.
Over the years, Horne has participated in numerous Broadway shows and helps build the Nat Horne School for Musical Theater on 42nd Street, though it closed after about ten years.
He generously opened his home for students needing a place to practice or rest, sometimes charging as little as $100 a month—a mere fraction of what that would be today.
A friend, Benjamin Magnuson, who works as Horne’s archivist, credits his current situation to a scholarship he founded for youth arts education, emphasizing the importance of giving back to the community.
While assisted living might seem like a viable option for some elderly New Yorkers, Harrison and Magnuson fear such a move could lead to Horne’s demise. “His energy comes from being around people. Isolation could really hurt him,” Harrison expressed.
To address Horne’s needs, a GoFundMe campaign recently gained traction, raising over $30,000 with a goal of reaching $100,000 to cover a year’s worth of rent, medical, and home care expenses.
Horne is aware of the fundraising efforts and is both surprised and grateful for the outpouring of support. “This is my home. I love it. I don’t want to leave,” she declared emphatically.
