My wife and I are expressing our fervent wishes for your rapid and complete recovery.
While I am waiting to have the honor of seeing you again, I beg you, dear Mademoiselle, to accept my respectful homages to which my wife wants to add her very sympathetic greetings.
C. de Gaulle
Wearing a bright red satin bed jacket and diamond earrings, Joséphine proudly received the medal while still recuperating in the hospital.
Once she recovered and returned to Les Milandes, she concentrated on turning the property into a tourist attraction. She hired 60 families in the surrounding village to install electricity, plumbing, and telephone service. They stocked the farm with 600 chickens plus cows, pigs, dogs, and peacocks. Joséphine had even more elaborate plans for the property—two hotels, three restaurants, a miniature golf course, courts for tennis, volleyball, and basketball, a wax museum of scenes from her life, stables, a bakery, a gas station, a post office, and a factory to produce foie gras, the liver paste for which the region was noted. While she worked to bring about these changes, she moved to the next phase of her dream—to marry a man who could become father to her soon-to-be-adopted children.
For that role she chose bandleader Jo Bouillon, whom she had been dating. Joséphine found him different from all the other men in her life. Jo was an educated man, having graduated from a prestigious music conservatory. His good business sense and love for nature would be assets in helping her oversee Les Milandes. Jo’s friends and family discouraged the shy and quiet man from marrying the flamboyant and temperamental Joséphine, but he ignored them. On June 3, 1947, Joséphine’s 41st birthday, the two wed, first in a civil ceremony, and again in a Roman Catholic rite. The church service surprised Joséphine’s friends, who believed she had converted to Judaism when she married Jean Lion.
Joséphine Baker marrying her fourth husband, Jo Bouillon at a private chapel at Les Milandes on June 3, 1947, her 41st birthday. © Bettmann/CORBIS
For her wedding, Joséphine wore a two-piece suit, a large pink straw hat with curled feathers, a white orchid corsage, and a gold belt. Almost all of Jo’s family attended the wedding, and Pepito’s sister Christine came with her family from Italy to represent the bride. The entire village attended the celebration at Les Milandes and ate the five-foot-tall wedding cake.
Before they married, Jo had made a commitment for his orchestra to play in Mexico, so the couple combined their honeymoon with live and radio performances in that country. A radio station in the United States picked up one of their on-air performances and invited the newly married couple to perform in a show at the Majestic Theatre in Boston. Apparently forgetting, or at least ignoring, Joséphine’s previous experience performing in her home country 12 years ago, the couple accepted the invitation, not knowing the reception of their show in Boston would be humiliating.
8
Let My People Go
THE AMERICAN PRODUCERS OF Paris Sings Again rushed the preparation to open on December 25, 1947, so they could take advantage of Christmas crowds. Unfortunately, the show flopped for several reasons. The directors chose songs for Joséphine to sing that had no relationship to Paris. Critics seemed uninterested in her actual performance, and instead were more interested in her huge wardrobe of costumes and the expensive jewels that were so valuable that she was “under police guard while on the stage of the Majestic.” There was a 33-carat emerald, a 16-carat sapphire, and a black diamond that gave off glints of red fire. But all the sparkling jewels in the world couldn’t save the show: bad reviews caused sparse attendance, and the show closed only three weeks after its opening.
While she was in the United States, Joséphine visited her family in St. Louis and invited all of them to live with her at Les Milandes. She wanted them to see how successful she had become and what it was like to live in a place where blacks were treated equally to whites. Since Joséphine’s last visit, her mother, Carrie, had remarried. Her new husband, Tony Hudson, did not want to go to a country where people spoke a different language. In a show of independence, Carrie decided to go to France without him, and she never returned. Sister Margaret had also married, but her husband, Elmo Wallace, was ready to move. Brother Richard couldn’t decide for sure—he said that he would think about it. He didn’t join them in Paris for another four years.
The last thing Joséphine did before leaving the States was to accept an invitation to speak at the all-black Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee. She talked about racial equality in North Africa and in France, and invited her audience to visit one of these places to experience life without prejudice. She told them that she had traveled incognito throughout the South, and it was her opinion that the racial situation was worse than ever. The university students responded positively to her message when she told them,
I do not like people to say when they see an outstanding Negro performer ‘Why, she is an exception.’ There are few exceptions but lots of people with talent who never get the opportunity to display it…. We are the greatest race in the world, the Youth group should know this and they should be made to feel proud of our accomplishments. More is achieved by love than hate. Hate is the downfall of any race and nation.
Joséphine enjoyed the experience and decided she would like to do more public speaking. This speech became the catalyst for numerous appearances scheduled throughout the world in the coming years. She and Jo, as well as her family, left for France, but she determined to return to the United States soon to push for desegregation.
Upon reaching Les Milandes, Joséphine was glad to see some progress had been made in her absence in turning the property into a tourist attraction. But there was still much to do. While she waited for its completion, she returned to show business to earn money to pay for all of the renovations. On April 8, 1948, she and Jo opened a cabaret, Club des Champs-Élysées. A large, diverse crowd—including show-business celebrities, ambassadors, boxer Joe Louis, and Joséphine’s one-time rival Mistinguett—attended the opening.
Joséphine at the Folies Bergère in 1949, wearing her headdress for a scene of courtly love, “Le Festin.” © Bettmann/CORBIS
JOE LOUIS
Nicknamed the “Brown Bomber,” Joe Louis grew up in the deep poverty and racial discrimination of the South. After his family moved to Detroit, he developed an interest in boxing. In 1933 he won the Golden Gloves as a light heavyweight and turned to professional boxing. One by one he defeated previous title holders until on June 19, 1936, when he went up against Max Schmeling, a protégé of Adolf Hitler. Although Max was the underdog, he defeated Louis in a surprise upset. Their rematch happened two years later, and Louis defeated Schmeling with a knockout.
Beginning in 1939, Louis began a 12-year reign as the world’s heavyweight champion. In 1942 he left boxing to join the army, where he spent 14 months teaching physical education to soldiers. He did not return to the ring until 1946, when he successfully defended his title another four times. Despite the $5 million he earned in his lifetime, by the time he was 37 years old, he had no money remaining. His last fight, a defeat, was against Rocky Marciano, who sent Louis into the ropes in the eighth round. Louis still holds the record of having defended his title more times than any other fighter. He died at 66 years old, in 1981.
In 1949, Paul Derval invited Joséphine to appear again at the Folies Bergère in a show called Féeries et Folies, or Enchantments and Foolishness. This 15-letter title departed from Paul’s usual insistence that his show’s names always be exactly 13 letters to bring him good luck. Joséphine appeared in several skits, all based on fairy tales, and she also sang songs written especially for her. Her vocal performance was so well received that Columbia Records invited her to record several of the tunes.
Meanwhile, progress at Les Milandes was not going as well as it had while Joséphine was gone. She did not know how to manage people successfully, and her moodiness and temper tantrums upset the workers, who either quit or were fired. She and Jo disagreed about how to run the property: Joséphine managed by
instinct, while Jo relied on facts. She ignored recommended planting times, so harvests never developed; she failed to ensure that the cows were milked regularly, but she became ecstatic about the fact that each animal had its name in neon lights over its stall. In contrast, Jo recognized his limited experience, and spent hours reading to gain the knowledge he needed to manage the farm. Their disagreements were inevitable.
After the Folies show closed in 1950, Joséphine toured Italy, where she had an audience with Pope Pius XII. For their meeting, she dressed all in white and wore a mantilla (scarf) over her dark hair, which was pulled into a severe chignon. Upon entering the Pope’s presence, Joséphine knelt in respect. After the Pope pulled her to her feet and called her “my daughter,” she told him about her plans to adopt children from many nationalities. He encouraged her by telling her, “There is a fundamental opposition between the church and racism. The church by universal definition professes the oneness of mankind.” Then he blessed her. His blessing thrilled Joséphine because now she could mention the Pontiff’s support in all of her publicity.
After the papal visit, she went on tour, spending six months in Mexico before taking her show to Havana, Cuba. Now that she was in her 40s, Joséphine no longer wanted to bare her body in skimpy costumes. Instead, she favored dresses with long, full skirts and tight waists, and she wore the latest fashions from the most notable French designers. News of her success in Cuba reached Florida, where Ned Schuyler, manager of a club in Miami called Copa City, invited her to perform. Joséphine saw the invitation as a chance to work for desegregation in the United States. However, when she informed Schuyler that she would not perform unless the seating was racially integrated, he tried to change her mind by offering her more and more money. The offers got bigger and bigger until they reached $10,000 extra for removing the restriction. Despite the enormous sum, Joséphine remained adamant that the audience include people of all races, and Schuyler finally relented. Actually, he personally believed in desegregation, and he helped Joséphine get a room at the Arlington Hotel, which had never before had a black guest. In addition, Joséphine had a white chauffeur to drive her car.
On opening night at the Copa City, only 11 African Americans, including fighter Joe Louis, showed up to see the show—most were afraid to cross the invisible boundary that separated the part of Miami in which they lived from the area occupied by the nightclub. Popular singer and actress Sophie Tucker introduced Joséphine, who was a tremendous hit. Joséphine told the first integrated audience: “This is the happiest moment of my life. I have waited 27 years for this night. Here I am in this city where I can perform for my people.”
For every appearance, she filled the 750-person nightclub with an enthusiastic audience. Popular gossip columnist Walter Winchell gave her a rave review in the January 17, 1951, issue of New York Daily Mirror: “Josephine Baker’s applause [at Copa City] is the most deafening, prolonged, and sincere we ever heard in forty years of show-biz. A one-gal show, with exquisite gowns, charm, magic, and big-time zing. A star.”
Joséphine was sincere about her desire to end segregation in the United States. When she accepted an offer to perform at the Roxy Club in New York at a salary of $20,000 per week, she used the daylight hours to involve herself in a variety of civil rights issues. The one that gained her the most publicity was her support of a black man named Willie McGee, who had been accused of raping a white woman while she lay in her bed with her small daughter. Many people, including Albert Einstein, rallied to Willie’s defense and said that he had been framed. Although she could not stop his execution, Joséphine paid for his burial and stayed with his wife until Willie died. The next night, when she performed in Detroit, Michigan, Joséphine told the audience that she would perform that night but that her heart was saddened: “They have killed one of my people, Willie McGee. He was executed. I feel very deeply about it. I feel very deeply for my people, just as you feel very deeply about yours.”
While in Philadelphia for five days, Joséphine met face-to-face with the heads of major corporations to urge them to hire black workers, and she challenged a large transit company’s refusal to let blacks drive buses because the company claimed they weren’t qualified. She wanted to know how it was possible that African Americans had driven buses throughout WWII but had now lost their ability to do so. The bus company president refused to budge, and a frustrated Joséphine walked out of the meeting. Later, at the Biltmore Hotel, she made a citizen’s arrest when a man used an expletive against her race. In typical fashion, she made up a story on the spot, telling observers the arrest had been easy for her because her father had been a policeman.
Although her push for desegregation was not appreciated in many places, vast numbers of African Americans sought to honor her efforts. The NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Colored People) declared May 20, 1951, Joséphine Baker Day in Harlem. When she contacted her husband Jo Bouillon about the honor, he was in France checking on the work at Les Milandes. She asked him to bring her two new Christian Dior outfits to wear for the celebration. Jo returned to the United States, carrying a white suit, a black ankle-length raw silk dress, and an off-white pleated gown. Joséphine had recently burned off much of her hair while applying a chemical straightening treatment, so he also brought a hat designed to fit over the artificial, foot-high, conical chignon she was wearing until her hair grew back. On her special day, Joséphine rode on the back of a cream-colored convertible as the 27-car motorcade moved slowly down 7th Avenue. It was reported that 100,000 people lined the street and hung from upstairs windows and fire escapes for a chance to see her. She got out in front of the Hotel Theresa at 7th Avenue and 125th Street to accept presentations from cultural and athletic groups including the American Legion and the Girl and Boy Scouts. That night, the mayor of New York, Vincent Impellitteri, gave a cocktail party in her honor. Five thousand people danced that evening in the Golden Gate Ballroom. Such a turnout encouraged Joséphine to continue her tour to push for civil rights. At that point in her life, it appeared nothing could stop her. She was wrong.
She was next scheduled to speak at the NAACP Convention in Atlanta, Georgia. When she tried to make reservations, she was turned down by three hotels based on her race before she decided to cancel her engagement altogether. The incident brought to light a law that stated that a hotel in Georgia could lose its license if it accommodated a black person’s request for a room. The negative press coverage that followed Joséphine’s event cancellation incited the wrath of the Ku Klux Klan, an extremist organization devoted to white supremacy, and Joséphine received threatening letters in the mail. Joséphine returned for two weeks of performances at the Roxy Club in New York, where she grossed $55,000 from sold-out audiences every night.
Joséphine and Jo reading congratulatory telegrams after her 1951 performances at the Roxy Club in New York. © Bettmann/CORBIS
Part of Joséphine’s attraction was her fabulous $150,000 wardrobe. French designers gave her clothes because her wearing them provided wonderful advertising. Her clothes filled 6 trunks, 48 suitcases, and 8 boxes containing 36 pairs of shoes and a few hats. A television poll named her the Best Dressed Woman of 1951.
WALTER WINCHELL
At one time Walter Winchell was America’s most powerful journalist. He began his career by writing a gossip column for a New York newspaper, but he switched to radio in 1930. Two years later, he hosted a 15-minute radio show for which he developed his signature style—stories delivered at a rapid-fire pace in a staccato speaking style, and with the tapping of a telegraph key in the background. He created his own slang for the coast-to-coast audiences whom he addressed as Mr. and Mrs. America.
As his popularity grew, he held court at table 50 of the Stork Club, where he had access to the celebrities of the day. He associated with mob members and politicians. With a few sharp words, he ruined many careers. He let his emotion overrule his good judgment in the clash with Joséphine Baker, and his position was never the same ag
ain. By the time he died in 1972, little note was made of his passing. Nevertheless, Walter Winchell was inducted into the Radio Hall of Fame in 2004.
Joséphine was riding high on the success of her recent shows until October 16, 1951, when she decided to meet some friends for dinner at the exclusive Stork Club on 53rd Street. That evening, Joséphine came face-to-face with the same unreasonable prejudice against which she had been fighting so hard. Roger Rico, who was starring in South Pacific at the time and was a frequent guest at the club, had invited her to dine with him and his wife. Around midnight, Joséphine and the Ricos entered the Stork Club and were seated. To get to their table, they passed the Cub Room, a special place set off by red velvet ropes and a watchful head waiter, for the most prestigious guests. Walter Winchell, the gossip columnist who had recently praised Joséphine’s talent, sat at table 50, which was permanently reserved for him. The two waved casually at one another as Joséphine passed with her dining companions.
A waiter came to take their order. The Ricos wanted only drinks, but Joséphine was hungry after her show. She ordered steak, crab salad, and a bottle of French wine. After the waiter left their table, Joséphine noticed strange glances from the waitstaff. Her friends received their order, but she did not. Initially, she assumed it was because they had ordered only drinks. Rico tried to catch the attention of their waiter but was unsuccessful. Finally, after an hour, he raised his voice and demanded a waiter come to their table. Rico sent the waiter to find out where Joséphine’s food was. The waiter returned with the news that the club was out of steak and crab meat salad and that they were still looking for the bottle of wine.
Joséphine was furious. She stormed away from the table and across the club to a telephone. She called Billy Rowe, the only black deputy commissioner in the New York City Police Department. She lodged a complaint about discrimination in the restaurant—a violation of the state Civil Rights Act and the State Alcoholic Beverage Control Law. When she went back to her table to join the Ricos, Walter Winchell was gone. Joséphine and the Ricos left the Stork Club to visit Walter White, executive director of the NAACP, and determine what legal action they could take in response to such blatant prejudice.
The Many Faces of Josephine Baker Page 9