When the Allied armies liberated France in 1944, Roberta was eager to do her part to make the American soldiers feel at home. She sang for wounded soldiers in hospitals, and she worked every day at the information desk of the Left Bank Red Cross club that was operated by black Americans. Roberta’s royal status wasn’t of concern to the soldiers who saw her at the Red Cross club thousands of miles from home. They saw a woman with a welcoming smile and a lovely voice. They didn’t care if she was a princess or a commoner.
The 404th Army Service Forces Band
WAC Band #2 found it difficult to keep up with all the invitations to perform for war bond drives. The band was made up of black Women Army Corps (WAC) musicians stationed at Fort Des Moines, Iowa, late in 1943. The band had made its debut at a service club in Des Moines in September. The musicians were under the command of Second Lieutenant Alice McAlpine from Springfield, Massachusetts, and they had played all across the state of Iowa in small towns and large cities by the summer of 1944. The predominantly white communities throughout the state came out to see and hear the black musicians. And, most important, they bought war bonds to help support the fighting men and women in the armed forces.
Members of the all-black 404th Army Service Forces Band. Fort Des Moines Museum and Education Center; Vera Campbell Collection
There was a WAC Band #2 because WAC Band #1—the 400th Army Service Forces (ASF) Band—was all white. Many talented black WACs had auditioned for the ASF band. Some of the women who tried out had been college music majors, music teachers, or even professional musicians in civilian life. But not one black WAC ever made the cut. They decided to start their own band—WAC Band #2.
When the band first formed they didn’t have instruments—nor did they have “official” status in the army. They eventually got both.
Although the US Army didn’t recognize the black WAC band as an official army band, army officers at Fort Des Moines did allow the formation of the group in September 1943. It took about a month to find enough instruments to complete a band. So while the search went on, the black musicians trained as a chorus to improve their music-reading abilities. The result was that by the time instruments had been rounded up, the women sounded very good as a singing group. But it was their reputation as a band that brought the invitations to perform.
Finally, in June 1944—after the black band had become so popular and had been so successful at war bond drives—the army staff at Fort Des Moines recognized the black musicians by making WAC Band #2 official—still segregated, but official. However, the official designation was short lived. Within a month, the women received notice that their group had been disbanded. The reasons given by the army were that the band had not been authorized by the US Army headquarters in Washington and that only one band was allowed on each base—and Fort Des Moines had the 400th. The commander at Fort Des Moines said the budget no longer allowed for a second band. It was not possible for WAC Band #2 to continue.
The all-black WAC band had become a source of pride for many black Americans. The women had just returned from a grand parade in Chicago where crowds had cheered them and celebrated their new official status. They had performed at the University of Chicago to a packed house. How could the army deactivate them?
Black leaders, community members, and members of black organizations across the country learned of the injustice and felt it was intolerable. They instigated a massive protest directed at policymakers in the army and the War Department. Officials were bombarded with letters and telegrams. Black newspapers encouraged the movement. By August the army had reversed its decision to deactivate WAC Band #2 and reinstated the band with an official name—404th AFS Band.
The black WACs were elated. But by November 1944 they were more puzzled than elated. When the original band was disbanded in the summer, the members had been reclassified into non-band positions and the band’s instruments was taken away. Two months had passed since the reinstatement of the new band, and very few members had instruments. In fact, the instruments were coming in from the army supply depot at a rate of only about one every week. At that rate, it would be years before they had enough instruments to begin performing again. Despite the barriers that seemed continually to crop up, the women of the 404th AFS Band refused to give up. The instruments did eventually come and by December they were once again performing. In May 1945 the 404th AFS Band performed in the Mighty Seventh War Bond Drive in Chicago at the Savoy Ballroom. The drive began on May 14 and ended on June 30 and brought in over $26 billion for the war. The army hadn’t made it easy for them, but the women of the black WAC band insisted on doing their part for the war effort.
Home Sweet Home
As the war ended and soldiers began returning home in large numbers, entertainers welcomed them home with special performances. One of those entertainers was concert and stage star Muriel Rahn, who had been told by a hotel clerk in 1942 that she was not welcome because they did not “take your kind.”
In August 1945, 10,000 weary soldiers arrived in New York from Europe on the Queen Elizabeth. The soldiers were so happy to see home that some cried as they disembarked; others kissed the ground. From the ship the soldiers were taken to nearby Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, where Muriel headed up a homecoming show for the returning heroes. Although Muriel was a superstar and could have earned thousands of dollars for her performance, she sang for free.
If Muriel Rahn and other black female entertainers who had helped boost the morale of American servicemen and -women fighting to rid the world of fascism and Nazism hoped that life would be better for black Americans after the war, they were seriously disappointed.
Soprano Muriel Rahn volunteered to sing for returning troops.
Library of Congress, Carl Van Vechten Collection, LC-USZ62-114454 DLC
The Jim Crow laws that prohibited black and white people from associating with one another were still very much in place in the southern United States. Shortly after the war ended the Darlings of Rhythm performed in Georgia. The band’s trumpet player, Toby Butler, was arrested by authorities. It was alleged that she was a white girl associating with the black members of the band—something that was prohibited in the state of Georgia. Jessie Turner, the leader of the Darlings, explained, “My sole interest is in building the best musical unit possible and as long as my girls conduct themselves properly and display ability, I do not see that it would matter even if there were a few women from Mars mixed in.”
The International Sweethearts of Rhythm performed in St. Louis, Missouri, a few months after the war ended. After finishing a three-week engagement they planned to travel to their next appearance—a music festival in North Carolina. Before they left, bandleader Rae Lee Jones received a call from a man who identified himself as a Ku Klux Klan member. He warned that there would be Klan “activity” in North Carolina if white women performed with the Sweethearts. The Sweethearts ignored the warning and played to a crowd of 10,000—with no disturbances. It was thought the swarm of police milling around the grounds deterred the Klan from taking any action.
In 1939 a famous black singer named Marian Anderson had been denied access to a building called Constitution Hall in Washington, DC. The hall belonged to the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR), and they didn’t allow black performers to use their building. It caused a stir at the time. Eleanor Roosevelt severed her membership with the group to protest the discrimination against Marian Anderson.
By 1945 thousands of black men and women had fought and died in a war against fascism and Nazism. Black Americans had contributed generously to war bond drives. They had worked in war plants ensuring that American soldiers had the planes and equipment they needed on the battlefields of Europe, Africa, Asia, and the Pacific. And black performers had traveled to battlefields to entertain the weary troops.
Hazel Scott had performed in concerts to help raise money in war drives. She had entertained servicemen and -women at military camps around the country. She had visited military hospitals to
cheer the wounded. Although she was a famous star and could have demanded a hefty sum, she refused payment for her war work.
So why would the DAR refuse to allow Hazel Scott to use Constitution Hall—their national headquarters in Washington, DC—for a concert? Why would the president of the United States allow such a thing to happen? And, why would the First Lady seem to approve of the actions of the DAR?
In October 1945, Hazel asked to rent Constitution Hall for a piano concert. The DAR said no. They weren’t interested in changing their rule that restricted the use of the hall to “white artists only.” When President Harry Truman was asked to intercede on Hazel’s behalf, he seemed to voice his disapproval of the DAR’s actions. He reminded Americans that America had fought a world war for democratic principles. He said, “We have just brought to a successful conclusion a war against totalitarian countries which made racial discrimination their state policy. One of the first steps taken by the Nazis when they came to power was to forbid the public appearance of artists and musicians whose religion or origin was unsatisfactory to the ‘master race.’”
Still, the president didn’t think he could force the DAR to change their policy of racial discrimination. He said he couldn’t get involved because the DAR was not a public agency.
“I am sure that you will realize, however, the impossibility of any interference by me in the management or policy of a private enterprise such as the one in question,” the president explained.
The DAR blamed their actions on the laws of the District of Columbia. They said the existing laws in the city required separate schools, churches, and other public buildings for blacks and whites. They were just following the laws by refusing Hazel’s request. But they followed up by saying their policy of “white artists only” was “not intended to and should not be considered to imply the inferiority of either race to the other.” If the ladies of the DAR thought this would make Hazel Scott feel better about their racism, they were wrong. Hazel said, “If I weren’t allowed to use the hall because my music was unsuitable, it would be a different matter. But to refuse to let me play because of race is both stupidly reactionary and vicious.”
First Lady Bess Truman had accepted an invitation for tea at the Washington DAR headquarters about the same time as the Hazel Scott incident. Some black people hoped she would decline. Hazel said she hoped the First Lady would show her disapproval of the DAR’s racial discrimination by avoiding the tea, much like Eleanor Roosevelt had done years earlier. But the First Lady went to the DAR event and stayed for almost an hour. The Afro American newspaper reported that when a reporter asked her if she would accept future invitations from the DAR, the First Lady replied, “Why not?”
Hazel was disappointed that the First Lady decided to attend the tea. She said, “I wish she had refused to go because in the midst of this unfortunate discrimination her presence there gives sanction to their action against me.”
Many black female entertainers had made sacrifices in order to do their part for the war effort. Some had traveled in the southern United States to perform for servicemen despite the dangerous Jim Crow laws that made racial discrimination the law. Some had volunteered to perform for the troops without pay. Some had followed the troops to the fronts in Europe, North Africa, and the Pacific—facing many of the same dangers as the soldiers, sailors, and marines. Some had lived in tents and braved jungles, deserts, and stormy seas to give the servicemen and -women a few moments of relief from the war. After the war, most returned to the United States to confront the racism that they hoped would have subsided just a little. A few, like Josephine Baker and Coretta Alfred, chose to remain in their adopted countries, where they knew they would not have to face the cruel racism that ruled American society.
When she was asked about life after the war, Josephine Baker replied, “After the war? Who knows? Paris again? I suppose so. America? I think not.”
EPILOGUE
In 2009 a black woman, Michelle Obama, moved into the White House with her family. She was not there to work as a White House servant, a position that had typically been held by black men and women in previous generations. She was the First Lady. Her husband, Barack Obama, had just become the first black person to be elected president of the United States. His election in November 2008 was a milestone in American history. It was an event that would have been inconceivable in the 1940s.
What monumental events transpired between 1940 and 2009 that made it possible for a black family to occupy the White House? And who were the individuals that helped transform the society that allowed such change?
There were many factors that led to change for black Americans. And there were many courageous people who fought for changes to the unjust system that created segregation and racism. Landmark court decisions—including Brown v. Board of Education in 1954, which ended legal segregation in public schools—changed the portrait of American education. Federal legislation—including the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which outlawed discrimination on the basis of race and gender—had an impact on the American workplace. Rosa Parks, who in 1955 refused to give up her bus seat to a white person, sparked a city-wide boycott in Montgomery, Alabama, altering transportation in America. And Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who led the fight for equality through peaceful resistance, helped bring about a new America.
The actions of many ordinary citizens, who resisted discrimination in many everyday ways, helped change America. Many of the black women who overcame race and gender barriers to help win World War II continued their fight for equality after the war ended in 1945. Some did it in quiet, discreet ways; others were more outspoken in their resistance to injustice.
In 1942 when Juanita Jackson Mitchell led a group of black citizens to the state capitol in Maryland to demand civil rights from Governor O’Conor, she and her fellow marchers were laying the foundation for the civil rights marches of the 1960s. Juanita’s activism in the 1940s continued throughout her lifetime.
Juanita became known as “the first lady of Maryland’s leading civil rights family” for her fight to end segregation and discrimination in the state. In 1950 she was the first black woman to become a lawyer in Maryland, and she served as counsel to the Maryland NAACP. She used her legal expertise to fight segregation in public places and in the state’s schools. She brought lawsuits to end discrimination in hiring and to end a jury system that segregated black and white jurors. In the 1960s she fought to integrate restaurants, and President John F. Kennedy named her to the White House Conference on Women and Civil Rights. She organized a group named Stop the Killing Campaign in 1985 in response to a rash of killings of black teens. When Juanita Jackson Mitchell died in 1992 the governor of Maryland said the state had lost a “great lady.”
When Inda DeVerne Lee led the Fourth of July protest at the Red Cross club in India in 1945, she wanted to call attention to the injustice of segregation in the armed forces. Her fight against injustice became a lifelong mission. Settling in St. Louis, Missouri, after the war, DeVerne organized a chapter of the Congress on Racial Equality (CORE), a leading civil rights activist group. She protested the segregation policies of the bus and train companies. And she took on the banks that refused loans to residents of black neighborhoods. She worked to help ensure fair housing and employment for blacks. She fought for laws to protect the rights of women. She became the first black woman in the Missouri state legislature in 1962 and served until 1982. As a state legislator DeVerne was an advocate for children, disabled, and elderly people. She also worked for reform in the state’s prisons. When she died in 1993 she was called “a giant” for her commitment to civil rights for all people.
When E. Pauline Myers told A. Philip Randolph in 1941 that she wasn’t a party girl and that she wanted to build a movement, she meant it. After the war Pauline worked in the labor movement demanding equal rights for workers. She had been a key organizer in the 1941 March on Washington, and when another March on Washington took place in 1963, Pauline took part in it—alongside
A. Philip Randolph. In 1983, Pauline was still doing the work she loved—demanding equality for American citizens. When she was asked to speak to a journalism class at Howard University and a friend warned her that there might be student protests to contend with because of an unpopular decision made by an administrator, she said, “If there wasn’t any trouble, I wouldn’t want to go.”
In 1998 the Washington Post ran an obituary for 89-year-old E. Pauline Myers. She was described as a “social activist” who contributed to “historic events that laid the groundwork for what came to be known as the civil rights movement.”
Layle Lane, the woman who met with President Franklin Roosevelt in 1941 to demand equality for blacks in employment and the military, continued to “hammer away at the walls of segregation” as she put it, until her death in 1976. Layle’s work with the American Federation of Teachers (AFT) union continued to shape her life after the war. When the AFT was asked to provide an amicus (from the term amicus curiae, “friend of the court”) brief to the Supreme Court for Brown v. Board of Education, Layle led the writing team. Throughout the 1950s she worked to end Jim Crow practices in teachers’ unions across the country. She wrote a monthly column—“Debits and Credits”—about the gains and losses for social justice in education. And she put her words into actions by offering her farm in Pennsylvania as a camp for poor inner-city kids. Layle, who believed education was a road to equality, devoted her life to education and equality.
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