Josephine had lived with her relatives only a short time when, in the middle of the night, her grandma awoke Josephine. A frantic Mrs. McDonald told her granddaughter to go get Carrie because Elvira was dying. For many years, Elvira had suffered from a heart disease known as chronic endocarditis. Josephine rushed down the street to get her mother, but by the time they returned, Elvira had died. She left Grandma McDonald a small pension, and the older woman went to live with Josephine’s family. The extra money improved the financial situation somewhat, and they moved into a one-room shack in Boxcar Town in East St. Louis.
Holes riddled the hovel where Josephine and her family lived. In the places where floorboards didn’t meet, they hammered flattened chili and tomato tin cans over the holes to keep out the swarms of rats. They plugged the cracks in the walls with old newspapers and magazine pages. Josephine tried to improve the place by planting some geraniums in a little garden in front of the house, but they never had a chance to come up. At night, in chilly weather, Josephine covered herself with a thin, worn patchwork quilt and cuddled two black-and-white puppies she had found searching through garbage cans for food. She nurtured the little strays by feeding them stale bread dipped in milk.
A scary incident one night in July 1917 caused Josephine to recall what her grandma told her when Elvira died. Josephine had been scared to look at the dead body, but her grandma said there was more to fear from the living than from the dead. Josephine learned the truth of that statement when mobs of armed white people invaded Boxcar Town and attacked its inhabitants. Upon hearing the screams and gunshots, Carrie woke 11-year-old Josephine by jerking the threadbare quilt off her. The shivering, frightened girl struggled to get dressed. She and the family raced out of their shanty just as a lighted torch sailed through a window. They huddled in the darkness behind trees and bushes. Throughout the whole ordeal, Josephine refused to let go of her puppies.
EAST ST. LOUIS AND BOXCAR TOWN
Boxcar Town—located in East St. Louis, Illinois, across the Mississippi River from St. Louis, Missouri—was one of the worst slums in the United States in 1917. The name came from the fact that most of the “houses” were, in fact, abandoned boxcars. The residents were black people who had moved north to work during World War I. When white union workers at the Aluminum Ore Company and the American Steel & Wire Company went on strike, the factories hired black workers as strike breakers. Racial tension grew.
On July 2, 1917, a mob of about 25 white people attacked every black person they encountered. Large crowds encouraged the rioters, who set 200 boxcars and shacks on fire. As the black men, women, and children ran from their burning homes, white mob members clubbed them, shot them, and even lynched a few. The reported number of fatalities varied from 48 to 200. That night almost 7,000 black residents fled across the Mississippi River to St. Louis, Missouri, and most never returned.
By morning, the massacre had ended, leaving most of the black community homeless. All that remained of Boxcar Town was smoke and ashes. The victims had no homes, and no possessions. Following the riots, Josephine’s family moved from tenement to tenement. Carrie took in laundry for both black and white people. Josephine resented having to scrub other people’s clothes over rough washboards and having to ride the trolley to deliver the laundry to various neighborhoods. Sometimes her black clients could not pay her—not because they did not want to, but because they had no money. Josephine often returned home with a couple of dollars instead of the $20 she should have collected. Since they could not pay for Carrie’s labor, some of the black women offered to help her by carrying water for her, cleaning her house, or sending food.
Yearning to escape the hard work and harshness of her life, Josephine became a waitress at the Old Chauffeur’s Club, a hangout for jazz musicians. She waited on customers and washed dishes for $3 a week. Although she still worked hard, she preferred these tasks to doing laundry. In the evenings, Josephine attended neighborhood dances. At one of these, she met Willie Wells, a 25-year-old steelworker. Before long, he asked her to marry him. Josephine had no experience with men, but she wanted to get out of her house. Although Josephine accepted Willie’s proposal, Carrie had to approve the marriage since her daughter was only 13, and underage. However, the union was never legal because Missouri had a minimum age of 15 to marry, even with parental approval.
On December 11, 1919, Josephine and Willie took their vows in a traditional wedding attended by family and friends in a neighborhood Baptist church. The bride wore a simple wedding gown provided by an aunt, and the groom dressed in a suit. At the conclusion of the ceremony, everyone went to Carrie’s home for a meal of roast pork and baked macaroni. That night the newlyweds moved into a rented furnished room upstairs. After the wedding, Josephine did not work but rather played the role of housewife, although she found it boring. Within a couple of months, she started to knit baby clothes. She told no one that she was pregnant but did purchase a wooden bassinet. Willie was not a good financial provider, and the couple often had trouble paying the $1.50 per week rent. One night the couple had a loud argument, and Willie became violent. Josephine grabbed a bottle, shattered it against the table, and struck Willie. Wounded, with a deep cut over one eye and blood streaming down his face, he dashed out of the room, never to return again.
Josephine stopped knitting baby clothes. No one ever knew whether she had really been pregnant or whether she had miscarried. As though the marriage had never occurred, she went back to her old job as a waitress at the Old Chauffeur’s Club, and she hoped to soon find a way to leave not just her home life, but St. Louis itself.
In her free time, Josephine visited her neighbors, the Joneses, a group of traveling musicians. The mother, Dyer, an outstanding trumpeter, taught Josephine to play the trombone. The family invited her to go with them as they roamed up and down the neighborhood streets singing, stomping their feet, and dancing. Carrie either didn’t know or didn’t care that her daughter missed school to perform with the Joneses.
On Sunday afternoons, Josephine attended shows at the Booker T. Washington Theater, which featured black entertainers. She saw the show of a vaudeville group called the Dixie Steppers so many times that she memorized every line of dialogue and every movement of the chorus dancers. She wanted to perform on that stage and told her nine-year-old sister Margaret, “I’m going to talk to the director. Since we’re going to have to work someplace, why not in show business? Wouldn’t that be fun?” Margaret ignored her sister because she didn’t believe the director would speak to her, let alone hire her.
But Josephine was determined. First, she convinced the stage-door guard she had an interview, and he let her in. Josephine waited her turn to be called onstage, but the director ignored her. Finally, as the rehearsal ended, he told her to come back the next day. A few minutes later, Josephine rushed back to her sister: “It worked! I’m hired!”
The following morning, he ordered her onstage and told her to join the chorus line. The music began, and Josephine started to dance the memorized steps. Slowly her body responded to the music. She moved in such a supple, limber manner and with such boundless energy that the other girls laughed. The director stopped the music, and Josephine waited to be fired. Instead he announced he was giving her the role of Cupid in their vaudeville production of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. He instructed her to report for rehearsals the next day. Although Josephine was thrilled, she did not tell her mother about the play because she knew Carrie would object to her wearing the revealing costume. Only her sister Margaret knew that Josephine planned to make her stage debut at the tender age of 13.
In her role as Cupid, Josephine dressed in pink tights and a skimpy costume with pink wings attached. Fastened in a harness and suspended by a rope from the ceiling, she performed well in the role until the wings got stuck in part of the backdrop. The more she fought to free herself, the more entangled she became. Below her on the stage, actors playing Romeo and Juliet waited for Cupid to shoot them with a love arrow. Inst
ead Josephine floated in circles above them, flailing her arms, acting like an unstrung marionette. The audience erupted in laughter. Josephine was embarrassed. She wished the curtain would come down so she could free herself, and she figured her acting career was over. But the director heard members of the audience talking about how much they loved that day’s show. Instead of firing her, the director told Josephine to keep her performance the same. She couldn’t believe her luck.
One Sunday, Josephine studied the posters at the Booker T. Washington Theater. She noticed an announcement of the performance of Clara Smith, a noted African American blues singer. Josephine paid the 25¢ admission fee and entered the darkened theater, where she found a seat in the first row to watch the play unfold before her. With her eyes focused on the stage, especially on the long silk scarf Clara Smith used as a prop, Josephine sat motionless until the show ended and the curtain came down. Then she sneaked backstage, where she found Clara Smith. She noticed the singer had spilled food on her white costume. Josephine offered to clean the clothing. The singer agreed and removed the dress. Josephine found water, washed the dress, and then pressed it between towels to dry it. Within a couple of hours, she returned the costume free of all stains. Clara paid her a dollar.
VAUDEVILLE
Vaudeville was a type of light entertainment popular in the United States from the mid-1890s until the early 1930s. During that time, more than 25,000 performers took to the vaudeville stage, making it the most popular form of American entertainment. Traveling shows consisted of 10 to 15 short, unrelated acts that might include comedians, singers, dancers, musicians, acrobats, ventriloquists, platespinners, and any other act that could entertain an audience. Because vaudeville not only amused but also presented a cross-section of the cultural diversity in America at that time, it became the earliest form of entertainment to cross racial and class boundaries
As Josephine rejoiced over having that much money, Clara surprised her further by inviting Josephine to travel with her as her dresser. She offered to pay Josephine’s train fare wherever they went plus $10 a week as salary. Josephine thought about the offer for a minute. She knew the Jones Family Band had joined the vaudeville troupe, so she would know someone. The Dixie Steppers would go too. Plus, she could finally escape from St. Louis. Without hesitating any longer, she accepted.
Josephine didn’t go home that night, but she did share her plans with her sister. “Margaret, before I say another word I want you to cross your heart. Good. Now swear that you won’t tell Mama—I’m leaving town tomorrow with the show.”
Even though she was brokenhearted at the thought of her big sister going away, Margaret covered for her that night. She said Josephine was spending the night with the Jones family. The next day when her older daughter still did not come home, Carrie questioned Margaret again. Finally, she told her mother that Josephine had left on a train with Clara Smith. With no emotion, Carrie said, “She has chosen her path. Let her be.”
2
Show Business Debut
ONE NIGHT, JUST 15 MINUTES BEFORE the show opened for its last stop in Philadelphia, a chorus girl fell and hurt her knee. Josephine saw her chance to perform onstage. She begged the director to let her replace the injured girl, assuring him she knew all the steps. With the minutes ticking away, he had no choice and told her to put on the costume. Josephine scrambled to get ready. The short skirt was too big and slid down to mid-calf instead of above her knees. The black tights wrinkled on her skinny legs and pooled around her ankles.
When she appeared onstage at the end of the chorus line, the audience took one look at her baggy clothing and roared with laughter. Josephine enjoyed making people laugh and began a clown-like performance. She acted clumsy, stuck out her tongue, and crossed her eyes while a stupid grin spread across her face. At school in St. Louis, she had received reprimands for these same actions. Now she used them to entertain the audience. She commented, “Seeing everybody looking at me electrified me.”
At the end of that night’s performance, the director, Bob Russell, told her that he wanted her to do exactly what she had done that night at every performance. At last Josephine was performing onstage, but she was not satisfied. She wanted to dance like the rest of the chorus instead of being the funny girl. Before she could achieve that goal, the show closed. Most of the performers went home, but a woman named Sandy Burns put together a dance show and invited Josephine to again perform at the end of the chorus line. She accepted the temporary job.
When she wasn’t onstage, Josephine spent her time with the leading lady, Clara Smith, whose unusual appearance fascinated the young girl. The short and fat black woman sported a red wig worn with paper flowers or a huge bow. The purple powder she spread across her face contrasted sharply with her teeth, yellowed by years of pipe smoking. Her favorite outfit was a short gauzy dress worn over pink tights, with her feet encased in high heels. In return for taking care of her whenever she had eaten too much sweet potato pie, the actress gave Josephine an alphabet book so that she could start learning to write her letters.
When they traveled, the black performers could not stay in white hotels because of segregation. There were few hotels for blacks because there were not enough blacks who needed that service. The performers had to stay in boardinghouses, where several women shared rooms and beds. Maude Russell, a black dancer and singer who often performed on the same stage with Josephine, explained the situation this way: “Many of us had been kind of abused by producers, directors, leading men…. And girls needed tenderness, so we had girl friendships, the famous lady lovers, but lesbians weren’t well accepted in show business…. I guess we were bisexual, is what you would call it today.”
As they traveled together, Josephine and Clara Smith became lovers. Josephine’s sexual interest in women did not stop when, in later years, she was able to afford her own room. She continued to have female lovers throughout her life, in addition to her relationships with men.
In the evenings, Josephine attended neighborhood parties. At one of them she met 23-year-old William “Willie” Howard Baker, a small, wiry, African American man with a light complexion. The two were attracted to each other because of their shared love of dancing. Josephine’s youth and her fun-loving nature also appealed to him. When he smiled at Josephine and invited her to dance, she said yes. They got to know each other better, and Josephine learned that Willie, a former jockey, now worked as a porter on Pullman cars. His charming personality and his steady job impressed her. After a few months, Willie proposed, and she accepted. Although Josephine was 15, legally old enough to wed at that time, they encountered problems getting a marriage certificate in Philadelphia.
PULLMAN PORTERS
Pullman cars were railroad sleeping cars built and operated by the Pullman Palace Car Company for about 100 years from the mid-1860s to the 1960s. Pullman porters were men who worked on these cars. Thousands of black men took the jobs, and by the 1920s, the Pullman Company was the largest single employer of black men in the country.
Porters converted seats into berths in the evening and reversed the process the next morning. They assisted passengers with luggage and performed other requests, such as brushing a coat or suit, or polishing shoes. Although they received better wages than most black men of their time, porters’ salary of $810 a year in 1926 (equal to $7,500 today) was extremely low payment for the 400 hours they worked each month. Porters also had to pay for their own meals and supply their own uniforms and shoe polish To their friends and neighbors, however, the Pullman porter held a respected position that offered him a steady income, a chance to travel across America, and little of the heavy physical labor associated with most jobs for black men in the late 19th century.
Their difficulty in obtaining a marriage license plus the objections of Willie’s parents to the marriage caused the couple to elope. After the show in which Josephine was performing closed, she and Willie traveled to Camden, New Jersey, where a justice of the peace performed the marriage ceremo
ny. Josephine no longer carried the McDonald surname with which she associated her unhappy childhood in St. Louis. She was now Josephine Baker—the name she used the rest of her life—despite two other later marriages.
The couple lived with Willie’s parents in a tense relationship. Willie’s mother did not like her new dark-skinned daughter-in-law. Josephine told a friend, “If somebody came to the house, Willie’s mother would find some excuse to keep me in the kitchen.”
It was ironic that the Bakers considered her too dark; growing up Josephine had always felt out of place in her family because her skin was so much lighter than that of her siblings and her mother.
Willie’s father owned a restaurant, and the young couple ate there most of the time. They got to know people who frequented the restaurant, and Josephine became friends with Wilsa Caldwell, who later helped her out in New York City.
Unlike the first time she lived with a man, Josephine did not become a housewife. Instead she sought out other performing jobs. One day she heard about Shuffle Along, a new black musical coming to Philadelphia. As the group passed through various cities, they held one-night auditions to allow aspiring chorus dancers to try out. The show’s goal was to open in New York City, and Josephine was determined to be with them when they performed on Broadway.
In April 1921, at the Dunbar Theatre in Philadelphia, a nervous Josephine auditioned for the fast-paced musical before two of the producers, Noble Sissle and Eubie Blake. When her dance ended, she heard the men discussing her. Words like “too thin,” “too small,” and “too dark” reached her ears moments before they announced their verdict: no role for Josephine in Shuffle Along. She did not know she never had a chance of being hired because the law required a chorus girl to be 16 years old to perform onstage. Failure to make the cast crushed Josephine. As her eyes filled with tears and her head drooped, she stumbled down the steps leading to the stage door exit. Her sobs echoed as she burst out the door and disappeared into the rain.
The Many Faces of Josephine Baker Page 2