by Elise Hooper
At the mention of Harriet, Helen couldn’t stop herself from leaping out of the bed to tower over Dee. “That’s not true. Harriet’s sick with a cold that she’s gotten from not taking care of herself. I know you’ve been coaching her for years in St. Louis, but she’s distracted and not running well. She couldn’t even make it out of the preliminary heat of the individual hundred-meter.”
Dee’s face reddened. “I know Harriet’s not your favorite person, Helen, but let’s try to be fair here.”
“What about Louise?” Betty asked.
Dee’s face clouded. “She’s a possibility.”
Betty persisted. “She’s been training hard, and as you know, she went to Los Angeles and didn’t get to race there. Olive went to Amsterdam but never competed, but she’s been running well too. And they also worked hard to raise their money.”
“Betty, feel free to step aside to give one of them the opportunity to race. After all, you’ve already won two medals.” Dee jutted out her chin in challenge. When Betty winced and kept silent, Dee went on. “These women have gotten the opportunity to come. Not everyone will end up racing, but being here is the experience of a lifetime. Do you really think most of these women would have ever traveled to Europe if it wasn’t for this? I’m giving them a chance for broadening their horizons, certainly more of a chance than most women will ever get. You two have no idea of the pressure that’s on me about these decisions.” Dee’s voice started to rise. “There’s a lot that goes into deciding these relay teams, issues you two know nothing about. For one thing, our German hosts aren’t thrilled about how well the Negro men are doing.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Helen asked.
“Mr. Brundage is worried about antagonizing our hosts with more successes from colored women, and as you’ve pointed out, we have a bunch of women who could run in the relay without offending Herr Hitler.”
“But why Harriet? How about Olive or Josephine?” Helen grumbled.
“Harriet enlisted some influential sponsors to her cause. I may have to race her to keep everyone happy.”
“Well, I can think of at least a couple of people who won’t be happy,” Helen said. “Listen, running’s all I’ve got. We have to win this. Harriet shouldn’t be our fourth.”
“I have a long history with Harriet and she’s a friend,” Dee snapped. “Helen, running isn’t all you have. Look around. You need to think about what’s really important.” And with that, she stormed from the room.
Helen blinked. She reached to her bedpost and lifted her gold medal from where she had hung it the previous afternoon. Lying on her palm, it felt heavy and cold, but it glimmered. Wasn’t her life supposed to be amazing now that she had won? Instead it felt like she had lost everything.
But had she?
Helen startled as Betty plunked down on the bed to lean against her shoulder. She looked down on the straight part in Betty’s golden hair, inhaled her scent of lemon shampoo and damp wool sweater, and felt a knot inside her loosen. Since Harriet had handed her that newspaper article in the dining hall, Helen’s mind had barely stopped spinning, but with a start, she realized she had overlooked something important.
None of her teammates had believed the lies. People believed in her.
55.
August 7, 1936
Berlin
“CAN YOU TAPE IT INTO MY SHOE?” TIDYE ASKED, HER face contorted in pain.
Louise stared at Tidye’s bare foot. Since the previous day’s accident, purple bruising had darkened and the foot had swelled. Louise lowered to her knees in front of where Tidye sat on her bed. How was she going to slide a sock over it, much less get her shoe on?
How had things gone so wrong?
The previous day had started gray with rain forecast for later in the afternoon, and the women felt fortunate that the weather was cooperating for the morning’s competitions. In the stadium, Louise awaited Tidye’s race while seated next to Mack in the front row, sunken below the track. He smiled and his big brown eyes gleamed.
“Winning medals agrees with you, doesn’t it?” Louise said, tucking herself in close to him, not so close that anyone else would notice, but close enough to feel warm, feel the solidity of him beside her.
The starting gun fired, and on the track, the women headed toward the first hurdle and sailed over it.
“I won’t deny that I’m enjoying some of the perks that come along with winning.” Mack ran a finger along Louise’s bare forearm, sending a shiver up her spine. She gave him a wink but her delight was short-lived.
Because she was distracted by Mack, Louise almost missed it: the split second when Tidye’s toe didn’t quite clear the top of the bar on the third hurdle. In the air, Tidye fought to right herself, to fix the imbalance that catching her toe had caused. Louise held her breath as Tidye raised her arms to the sky as if reaching for something to steady herself, but nothing came to her rescue. Instead she crashed to the cinder. Louise felt her breath catch as Dee and several officials scuttled to where Tidye lay crumpled into a ball.
After Tidye had been carried off the field, she downplayed her injuries and sent away the medical staff that had descended upon her, before waving Louise over. “Help me get out of here without anyone noticing,” Tidye gasped.
Without asking questions, Louise and Mack smuggled Tidye out of the stadium and returned her to Friesenhaus.
A day had passed, and judging by the worsened state of her foot, there was no doubt about it: Tidye could not be considered for the relay. Louise lowered the roll of medical tape to the floor. “Do you really want to try this?”
Tidye winced. “I’m out, aren’t I?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how you can race. You can’t even walk.”
Tidye covered her face with her hands. “But this was my chance,” she wept.
Something in Louise snapped. “You got your chance. It didn’t end the way you wanted, but you had your moment to run and compete. I would give anything for a shot like that. I’ve come all this way and wanted to race so badly that I can barely stand it. I know your foot is hurting, and you can cry because of the pain, but don’t cry because you didn’t get a chance. You got it and you should be proud.”
Tidye inhaled sharply, but before she could say anything, a knock at the door made them both jump. A voice called out, “Come on out to the lounge. Dee’s holding a meeting about the relay.”
The sound of feet shuffling away from their door made Tidye sigh. “True, but this sure isn’t how I wanted my chance to go.”
“Somewhere back in New York, an old AOC bigwig paid money to send you here to represent the United States. They only paid for you and four other women. Don’t forget that. And today, thousands of people watched you line up to race wearing a United States team uniform. They all saw you on that track, Tidye.”
Tidye sniffled and gave a sheepish smile. “You mean they watched me fall.”
“At least you got a chance. That’s still something.”
“But I felt like if we could win medals, we would really show everyone what we can do.”
“I know, but Mack, Jesse, Ralph, and all of the other fellas are showing exactly what Negroes are capable of, but us girls, we’ve got to stop worrying about the finish line and focus on the starting line. If we can get more of us competing, we’ll have more chances to win. Don’t you see? We need more of us in the game!”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I know you are.” She leaned forward and kissed Louise on the forehead. “Now let’s go get you on that starting line.”
Louise lifted Tidye from the bed and helped her hobble to the lounge, to one of the few chairs scattered in the room. Once Louise settled her friend, she leaned against the cold white plaster wall, waiting for everyone to convene. She couldn’t sit, not with her mind turning over and over with a mess of thoughts. Dee would pick Helen, of that Louise had no doubt. Helen’s winning time during the Olympic trial finals in Providence had been 11.7 seconds. None of the
other women had broken twelve seconds in any of their runs and most of their times were bunched pretty close together. For the last month, Louise had mentally reviewed all of their results countless times in her head, but she couldn’t shake the suspicion that Dee wouldn’t rely on past times alone.
Dee entered, last to arrive, and cleared her throat. “Ladies, thank you for all of your hard work over the last few weeks as we’ve trained and prepared for these Games. I know everyone is hopeful about this relay team. The German women have a strong foursome and they’re going to be tough to beat. We need to put out a team with the most experience and speed. Like all of you, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the right racers for this challenge. After a great deal of consideration, I’ve decided that the team will consist of Helen, Betty, Annette, and Harriet. We don’t have much time left, but we’ll spend it practicing hand-offs and then I’ll decide on racing order.”
Murmurs from the women broke out. Louise lowered her face, afraid to see the looks of exuberance on the four who had been selected and anguish on those who hadn’t, but Tidye’s voice rang out clear and angry. “Why did you bring all of us here, if you were going to stick with a group you’ve known the longest?”
A low mumble of agreement spread among the eight women and everyone looked at Dee expectantly.
“I’m doing the best I can. I’m sorry.”
Harriet pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and blew her nose. “I know all of you are thinking that I shouldn’t be the fourth racer, but the truth is I’ve been working my tail off. I’ve earned my spot.”
At this, the room erupted into chaos. From her seat, Tidye wagged her finger at Harriet while Helen implored everyone to calm down and Betty and Annette looked like they wanted to disappear. As Dee tried to talk over the shouting, Louise felt her face grow hot. She slipped from the room.
Twice. Twice she had made it this far only to be denied competition. Why had she done this to herself again? If the AOC was willing to let Helen Stephens, its fastest racer, suffer the indignity of being branded a fraud by the Poles, what made her think she would have anyone fighting for her? She marched outdoors into the Friesenhaus’s garden. Maybe she would leave, keep walking, go find Mack, and never return to her teammates, but as she stepped outside onto the warm paving stones of the courtyard, she heard someone calling her name.
“Louise? Wait!”
She turned to see Olive hurrying toward her.
“This is the worst, huh?” Olive asked. She pulled a silver flask from the cardigan of her navy-blue sweater and held it out. “Want to take the edge off?”
Louise waved it away. She didn’t want to take the edge off. She wanted to feel every ounce of her anger because she’d have to push it all down and go out before the public to support her team. “I’m mad at myself for believing there was a chance it would work out differently. When I started running as a girl, I loved the feeling of being fast and powerful, but over the years it became about . . . about so many other things.” She had run because of guilt, because of promises she made, because it felt like the only opportunity available to her.
“We’ve been at this for a long time. Remember when that girl cheated us out of a first-place finish during a time trial? Was that in Malden or Medford? That was a long time ago.”
Louise felt her throat thicken, her chest heat in anger. “And here we are, eight years later, being disappointed again.”
“Dee’s never been one of my favorites. I was only fifteen when we went to Amsterdam, and she was never very friendly. Poor Betty actually had to room with her the whole time. Still, I was glad when a woman was given the job to coach us. And it’s not like she’s getting a fair shake, working and dealing with all of this pressure without even getting paid.” Olive gave Louise a knowing look. “There’s controversy on the men’s relay team too. Marty Glickman and Sam Stoller have been bumped off the roster to make room for Ralph and Jesse, but everyone is saying it’s politically motivated because Marty and Sam are Jewish.” She gave a weary shake of her head. “This whole thing can be heartbreaking, but it’s all I know. Do you think you’ll keep doing it?”
It’s all I know.
Louise peered past the walls of the courtyard. Was running all she knew?
56.
August 9, 1936
Berlin
SUNDAY, THE DAY OF THE RELAY FINAL, BEGAN WITH the air heavy with the metallic smell of rain. The dampness made Betty’s back ache and her knees stiff. In her bed, she waited for dawn, staring at the ceiling. When Dee had announced the relay team, Betty felt sure that every woman in that room knew she wasn’t the best pick. Everyone had piled on Harriet, but didn’t they remember that in Providence, Betty had barely made the cut? The other women accused Dee of playing favorites with Harriet, but wasn’t that impulse behind her selection of Betty too?
What if everyone pitied her too much to criticize her?
Or worse, what if she was put on the team out of pity?
A sickening sense of fear descended upon her. What if she caused them to lose?
“What’s wrong?”
Betty rolled to her side to see Helen watching her. “I shouldn’t be running today,” Betty confessed. “I wish Dee had picked someone else, one of the girls who doesn’t have any health problems like mine. We’re going to need every tenth of a second we can get. Why, those German women set a new world record yesterday during preliminaries! Who knows what they’ll pull off today?”
“Maybe they’ll be overconfident. Come on, get up. All we can do is run the best race we can.” Helen clambered out of her bed and started dressing in her team tracksuit.
Betty sat and tugged at the curlers in her hair. If only she had Helen’s unshakable confidence in her ability to win. “You don’t even want to do this race.”
“True, I haven’t wanted to run this one.” Helen pulled on her sweatshirt and then sat down on the edge of her bed across from Betty. “The relay’s always felt stressful. The idea of relying on others or being responsible for anyone else frightens me. I’ve been on my own for so long. It’s easier to just focus on my running, not have to worry about anyone else. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
Betty stared at Helen. She’d always assumed Helen’s reluctance to embrace the relay lay more in her lack of confidence in her teammates. “What do you mean? How would you disappoint anyone? You’ve been winning everything easily.”
“I’ve always been a disappointment to everyone. For as long as I can remember, things with my own family have been difficult, and I’ve never really had good friends. It wasn’t until Coach Moore came along that I had someone who believed in me. But even with all of the success I’ve had since I started running, I’ve felt like a phony, like it was just a matter of time before everyone saw me as the awkward, disappointing person I’ve always been.”
“But that’s horrible. Surely you don’t really mean that?”
“Betty, when you’ve spent most of your life being told that you’re not wanted, that you’re ugly and a freak, you start to believe it, and believing those things can be a hard habit to break. So the other evening, when Harriet showed up in the dining hall waving that horrid newspaper around, I felt like the jig was up. Everyone would finally see the truth about me.”
“But those were all lies.”
“Yeah, but the accusations of me being an imposter felt all too true.”
“All of our teammates knew those were lies.”
“I know, that was the most amazing thing. I didn’t expect everyone to react that way. People have been treating me poorly for most of my life. It wasn’t until I started running that people began to pay attention to me. I mean, pay attention in a good way. I went from being an outcast at school to having Fulton throw a holiday in my honor, and it’s felt too good to be true, like it’s just a matter of time before my life takes a turn for the worse again. I’ve been so afraid to lose because it’s felt like if I keep winning, people will continue to like me.
But I don’t think that’s the case now.” Helen smiled. “Do you remember back when we met in Chicago and you asked me to run the relay with you?”
“Of course.”
“Well, when I couldn’t carry that baton to save my life, you told me I could do it. Your confidence in me meant a lot and it worked. Now I want to do the same for you. I want to run this relay today. We can do this.”
Betty blinked back tears, tossed her curlers on the bedspread, and rose to embrace her friend. Enveloped in Helen’s strong arms, Betty felt safe, ready to try anything. “Thank you.”
Helen pulled back and looked down into Betty’s face. “You’re feeling better?”
“I am.” And she was.
“I’m off for my final massage on my shins. The doc used some cream yesterday that felt wonderful, and I’m hoping they use it again on me.”
“Today is the day to break out the best stuff.”
Helen nodded and laughed and—again—embraced Betty tightly. Nestled into Helen’s thick sweatshirt, Betty sighed a little and blinked back unbidden tears. She knew what Helen meant about feeling like an imposter. She could relate. Despite her past successes, she feared she would be the slowest woman on the track during the relay. But even more worrisome, what would she do after this race? The last eight years of her life had been focused on running and then recovering her health. What would happen when all the pageantry and special treatment of Berlin was over? Would she return to her quiet life of living with her parents, being a secretary in the architecture firm? Without the Olympics in her future, what lay ahead?
“Are you crying? I thought you were feeling better!” Helen said, rubbing Betty’s back.
“Oh, I’m just being sentimental.” Betty stepped back and wiped at her eyes. “This is my last Olympics. I’m sad that it’s almost over.”
“Me too. I’m surprised by how attached I feel to our sisterhood of athletes,” Helen said, shaking her head. “But it’s not over yet. We have one final thing to do! What do you say? Are you ready?”