The Slave Theater in Brooklyn at Center of Bitter Battle Over Ownership Clarence Hardy, the self-proclaimed chief of the Slave Theater in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, said Judge John L. Phillips Jr., the former owner of the neighborhood landmark, wanted him to occupy the theater. OVER a bustling stretch of Fulton Street in Bedford-Stuyvesant, the words on the faded marquee are as bracing as ever. "SLAVE #1," it reads, in bold capital letters. Last week, amid the bright new chain stores that have popped up beside the Brooklyn neighborhood's Caribbean-patty joints, the theater's closed steel gate bore a warning from the Buildings Department: Anyone trying to enter would be subject to arrest. "The conditions in this premises," the sign read, "are imminently perilous to life." Above it was a plea for money: "Help Restore Historical Site. Get Involved!!! The Slave Theater, once a hub of civil rights activity in New York, has been out of operation since 1998, its unheated main hall crumbling from neglect. As real estate developers pour money into the neighborhood around it, the theater is at the center of a bitter dispute over not just ownership rights, but also competing visions for a neighborhood landmark. Who owns the rights to history? Behind the shuttered gate lies a tangled story of lost millions and alleged foul play, in which a wealthy African-American judge was placed against his will into court-ordered guardianship and died, seven years later, broke and in debt. Clarence Hardy, 77, the self-described chief of the Slave Theater, says he is the theater's rightful occupant, based on the wishes of the former owner, Judge John L. Phillips Jr., who died without a will. "I'm in charge, the only person authorized to be there," Mr. Hardy, who sold a small collection of DVDs in the concession area until the Buildings Department closing last week, said. I'll present whatever proof I got at the right time. The Rev. Samuel Boykin is not impressed with Mr. Hardy's claim. Mr. Boykin, who would not give his age, is Judge Phillips's oldest nephew and the administrator of his estate, which owes more than $3 million to various tax agencies. For the past two years, Mr. Boykin has been trying to evict Mr. Hardy and another tenant, the Rev. Paul Lewis's Messengers for Christ World Healing Center, which held twice-weekly services on the second floor. "These people are squatters," said Mr. Boykin, who said he was affiliated with the Church of God in Christ. The court system has allowed these criminals to stay in my building. With property values in Bedford-Stuyvesant rising, Mr. Boykin said he could sell the theater for $3 million. And then there is Dr. Lewis, who says Mr. Boykin had agreed to sell him the building for $1.6 million, only to renege when a better offer came along. He says he has put almost $300,000 into the Slave. "We're going to fight," Dr. Lewis said. "Mr. John Phillips came to me with tears in his eyes and said, "Doctor, I believe you're the only one who can save the place." We fixed it up. Now it's a prime area; it's worth pretty good money. On Jan. 26, the three men eyed one another warily in Room 319 of Surrogate's Court in Brooklyn, where Mr. Boykin has been trying to take possession of the Slave since 2009. Mr. Boykin, weary from a 13-hour bus ride from his home in Akron, Ohio, wore his hair shaved close at the sides and rising to a tiered plateau on top. He said he had already spent $90,000 in legal fees on the case, bringing the estate's cash balance down to $18,000. "I've explained to all the courts that these people are illegally occupying my building," he said, blaming his former lawyers for the length and expense of the proceedings. He carried copies of handwritten complaints he said he had sent to at least eight law-enforcement agencies about alleged fraud involving his uncle's properties and a tale about the lack of response. "I need to get them out of there," he said of Mr. Hardy and Dr. Lewis. No one has a contract. No one is paying rent. The meter is running, eating up the estate. THE story of the Slave begins with Judge Phillips, who grew up in Ohio and became, by his own account, the first African-American admitted to the Montana bar. In Brooklyn, he ran for the Civil Court bench as the "kung fu judge" because he had a black belt in martial arts, and he openly feuded with the borough's political establishment, black and white. He opened a martial-arts dojo to teach a style he called the "Gorilla-Gnat System of Scientific Movements and Defensive Fighting," and set about buying up property in Bedford-Stuyvesant. He was nothing if not enterprising. In the early 1980s, he made a movie about an interracial love affair, financing it himself, and when no distributor would take it, he bought the old Regal Theater on Fulton Street in 1984, renaming it Slave #1 to remind himself and his neighbors of their history, he said. That the name offended some residents did not seem to bother him. He filled the Slave with African-American political art and murals celebrating the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Marcus Garvey and other figures from black history. He renamed a second theater the Black Lady. Justin Mitchell contributed reporting.