SATURDAY EVENING, JUNE 9, 1928
GOOD MUSIC REFRESHMENTS
Railroad Men’s Ball
AT CANDY’S PLACE
FRIDAY, SATURDAY & SUNDAY,
April 29-30, May 1, 1927
Black Wax, says change your mind and say they
do and he will give you a hearing, while MEAT
HOUSE SLIM, laying in the bin killing all good men.
L.A. VAUGH, President
And at various parties we find features, among them being “Music by the Late Kidd Morgan”; “Music by Kid Professor, the Father of the Piano”; “Music by Blind Johnny”; “Music by Kip Lippy”; “Skinny At the Traps”; “Music Galore”; “Charge De Affairs Bessie and Estelle”; “Here You’ll Hear that Sweet Story That’s Never Been Told”; “Refreshments to Suits”; “Refreshments by ‘The Cheater’”. All of these present to the average rent party habitueé a very definite picture of what is to be expected, as the card is given to him on the street corner, or at the subway station.
The parties outdo their publicity. There is always more than has been announced on the public invitation. Though no mention was made of an admission fee, one usually pays from twenty-five to fifty cents for this privilege. The refreshments are not always refreshing, but are much the same as those served in parts of the South, with gin and day-old Scotch extra. The Father of the Piano lives up to his reputation as he accompanies a noisy trap drummer, or a select trio composed of fife, guitar, and saxophone.
Apart from the admission fee and the sale of food, and drinks, the general tenor of the party is about the same as one would find in a group of “intellectual liberals” having a good time. Let us look at one. We arrived a little early — about nine-thirty o’clock. The ten persons present were dancing to the strains of the Cotton Club Orchestra via radio. The drayman was just bringing two dozen chairs from a nearby undertakers establishment, who rents them for such affairs. The hostess introduced herself, asked our names, and politely informed us that the “admittance fee” was thirty-five cents, which we paid. We were introduced to all, the hostess not remembering a single name. Ere the formality was over, the musicians, a piano player, saxophonist, and drummer, had arrived and immediately the party took on life. We learned that the saxophone player had been in big time vaudeville; that he could make his instrument “cry”; that he had quit the stage to play for the parties because he wanted to stay in New York.
“You Don’t Get Nothing for Being an Angel Child, So you Might as Well Get Real Busy and Real Wild.”
A New York Age editorial
RENT PARTY TRAGEDY
One of these rent parties a few weeks ago was the scene of a tragic crime in which one jealous woman cut the throat of another, because the two were rivals for the affections of a third woman. The whole situation was on a par with the recent Broadway play, imported from Paris, although the underworld tragedy took place in this locality. — In the meantime, the combination of bad gin, jealous women, a carving knife, and a rent party is dangerous to all health concerned.
There were more men than women, so a poker game was started in the next room, with the woman who did not care to dance, dealing. The music quickened the dancers. They say “Muddy Water, round my feet — ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta”. One girl remarked — “Now that party’s getting right.” The hostess informed us of the main menu of the evening — Pig feet and Chili — Sandwiches a la carte, and of course if your were thirsty, there was some “good stuff” available. Immediately, there was a rush to the kitchen, where the man of the house served your order.
For the first time we noticed a man who made himself conspicuous by his watchdog attitude toward all of us. He was the “Home Defense Officer,” a private detective who was there to forestall any outside interference, as well as prevent any losses on the inside on account of the activity of the “Clean-up Men.” There were two clean-up men there that night and the H.D.O. had to be particularly careful lest they walk away with two or three fur coats or some of the household furnishings. Sometimes these men would be getting the “lay” of the apartment for a subsequent visit.
There was nothing slow about this party. Perfect strangers at nine o’clock were boon companions at eleven. The bedroom had become the card room — a game of “skin” was in progress on the floor while dice rolled on the bed. There was something “shady” about the dice game, for one of the players was always having his dice caught. The musicians were still exhorting to the fifteen or twenty couples that danced. Bedlam reigned. It stopped for a few minutes while one young man hit another for getting fresh with his girl while dancing. The H.D.O. soon ended the fracas.
About two o’clock, a woman from the apartment on the floor below rang the bell and vociferously demanded that this noise stop or that she would call an officer. The hostess laughed in her face and slammed the door. Some tenants are impossible! This was sufficient however, to call the party to a halt. The spirit — or “spirits” had been dying by degrees. Everybody was tired — some had “dates” — others were sleepy — while a few wanted to make a caberet before “curfew hour.” Mrs. Bailey calmly surveyed a disarranged apartment, and counted her proceeds.
And so the rent party goes on.
“Muddy Water, round my feet — ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta.”
AME Zion Church
KEEPING THE FAITH
BEFORE 1920 THE church was the center of all social activity among African Americans. With the coming of the renaissance and the economic boom, the church’s influence declined but still remained a powerful resource for Harlem’s middle class. By 1928 there were more than 160 African-American churches in Harlem, a result of the Great Migration in which people came North and brought their churches with them. As well, spiritualists of all kinds set up shop in storefronts, rented halls, parlors, and auditoriums. Among the more exotic were groups such as the Commandment Keepers, Holy Church of the Living God, the Pillar and Ground of Truth, the Temple of the Gospel of the Kingdom, the Metaphysical Church of the Divine Investigation, Prophet Bess, St. Matthew’s Church of Divine Silence and Truth, Tabernacle of the Congregation of the Kingdom, and the Church of the Temple of Love.
From the most stable institutions to the most fly-by-night operations, these churches were not simply a place of worship. They provided a stabilizing force in a community that was experiencing an incredible influx of new people. The churches welcomed these newcomers with open arms and offered them an instant social life. They served as social centers, supplied relief to the orphaned and aged, promoted educational and cultural activities, initiated many civil rights actions, and offered an exclusively black point of view. At the center of all this was the clergy, who acted as part politician and part social worker, part moral counselor and part employment agent. In short, the clergy were involved in almost every aspect of their parishioners’ lives.
BAREFOOT PROPHET
Through the coldest nights of winter and the hottest days of summer the Barefoot Prophet strode the streets of Harlem carrying the “Word.” A giant of a man with huge feet and a magnificent mane of gray hair and a flowing beard, the Prophet often showed up at gin mills, cabarets, and rent parties, where he would quote a few passages of scripture, take up a small collection, and disappear into the night. According to legend, at an early age the Barefoot Prophet, whose real name was Elder Clayhorn Martin, had a vision in which God told him to “take off your shoes, for this is Holy Ground, Go preach My Gospel.” He obeyed.
FATHER DIVINE
The most bombastic of the cult churches at the time was the one known as the Righteous Government, lead by a man called Father Divine. His followers referred to him as “God,” and they often renamed themselves a panoply of odd names, such as Pearly Gates, Beauty Smiles, Norah Endurance, Holy Shinelight, and Rose Memory. The church itself was famous for the free meals it offered to all comers.
Within this community African Americans who were pigeonholed in dead-end jobs could come to church on Sunday and regain their self-
respect. Most large Harlem churches would open early on Sunday morning and remain open until ten or eleven o’clock at night. Parishioners would spend the entire day there, taking meals in the rectory and attending meetings and services. Churchgoing meant dressing in one’s “Sunday best,” forgetting for a time about work, meeting others, and attending to spiritual affairs. The fact that there were so many churches testified to the real need the average African American had for an affordable place to socialize without restrictions.
St. Phillips Episcopal Church.
THOSE JUST-SO SOIREES
HARLEM SPORTED MORE than 700 social clubs, which sponsored activities ranging from noisy “chitterlin’ suppers” and “barrel house” parties to stilted soirees, symposiums, and musicales. The more rarefied of these clubs strived for a social correctness that mirrored that of its downtown white counterparts. The formal winter season began on Thanksgiving eve and ran until the beginning of Lent. One of the most fashionable events of this season was the Alpha Bowling Club ball. The Alpha Club was a charity organization, but it spent most of its time putting on formal events. The guest lists included the most respected individuals of the community — Harlem’s schoolteachers, businesspeople, undertakers, nurses, post office employees, physicians, dentists, lawyers, and a small group of dignified domestics who had long been employed by New York’s white aristocracy.
HARLEM JIVE
continued
Diddy-wah-diddy. A far-distant place; a measure of distance.
Dickty. Swell; grand; high-toned.
Dig. To understand.
Dog. Used as a complimentary noun, as in, “Ain’t this a dog?”
Dog it. To show off; to strut; as to “put on the dog.”
Dog mah cats. An expression of astonishment.
Dogging. Dancing.
Doing the dozens. In verbal agreement, to insult another person’s parents.
Down to the bricks. To the limit.
Fooping. Fooling around.
Frail eel. A pretty girl.
Fungshun. A crowded dance with too many people smelling of sweat (a play on function).
Gum beater. A braggart or idle talker.
Gut bucket. A sleazy cabaret; also: racous, vulgar music.
Hincty. Snooty.
Hot. Wonderful; marvelous.
Harlem Bridge Club meeting
LA BOURGEOISIE NOIRE
E. Franklin Frazier, a professor of sociology at Howard University, coined the term “La Bourgeoisie Noire” to describe the business class of Harlem. These were the people who escaped the white man’s kitchen and dining room. They were made up of families of professional men — doctors, lawyers, and ministers — along with judges, actors, “race leaders,” politicians, educators, and moneyed prize fighters. On the whole these upper-class families embraced a conservative taste and a deep sense of respectability.
LET’S HAVE A PARADE!
Harlem is also a parade ground. During the warmer months of the year no Sunday passes without several parades. There are brass bands, marchers in resplendent regalia, and high dignitaries with gorgeous insignia riding in automobiles. Almost any excuse for parading is sufficient — the funeral of a member of the lodge, laying of a corner-stone, the annual sermon to the order, or just a general desire to “turn out.” Parades are not limited to Sunday; for when the funeral of a lodge member falls on a weekday, it is quite the usual thing to hold the exercises at night, so that members of the order and friends who are at work during the day may attend. Frequently after nightfall a slow procession may be seen wending its way along and a band heard playing a dirge that takes on a deeply sepulchral tone. But generally these parades are lively and add greatly to the movement, colour, and gaiety of Harlem. A brilliant parade with very good bands is participated in not only by the marcher in line, but also by the marchers on the sidewalks. For it is not a universal custom of Harlem to stand idly and watch a parade go by; a good part of the crowd always marches along, keeping step to the music.
— James Weldon Johnson, from Black Manhattan
Funeral procession on Seventh Ave.
Jive. To pursue; to capture; to deceive; also: slang talk; black music.
Jump salty. To get angry.
Kitchen mechanic.
A domestic servant or laborer.
Kopasetee. A term of approval (from copasetic).
Mug man. A small-time criminal or thug.
Negrotarian. A white do-gooder, coined by Zora Neale Hurston.
Oscar. A stupid person.
Piano. Spareribs.
Pole out. To be distinguished or excel.
Rug-cutter. A person too cheap to frequent dance halls who goes to rent parties and proceeds to “cut up” the rugs of the house with his hot feet; also: a good dancer.
Shim sham shimmy. An erotic dance.
Shout. A ball or prom; also: a one-step dance.
Slip, slip in the dozens. To joke with or to kid either one person or a whole group.
Smoking over. Looking over critically.
For the college-educated, all the national African-American fraternities and sororities had New York chapters. Although the majority of their work involved race issues, scholarships, and donations to African-American social agencies, these groups sponsored full social programs and demanded of their members a code of conduct similar to that of elite white social clubs. One fraternity advised its brothers in advance of its annual convention as follows:
Clothing for the formal affairs — late August is likely to be moderately warm in New York City. The type of formal wear is left optional with the Brothers. They can wear either tuxedos or various types of summer formal apparel. However, in all cases FORMAL APPAREL must be worn — NO WHITE LINEN SUITS are considered formal attire.
Charlotte van der Veer Quick Mason
NEGROTARIANS
Zora Neale Hurston labeled the many whites who helped finance and support the Harlem Renaissance “Negrotarians.” These white patrons had only their color in common, since their reasons for involvement ranged from social interest to a belief that blacks were victims of civil rights abuses to an interest in recruiting blacks for revolutionary political purposes. Carl Van Vechten was one of the most prominent white patrons. Countee Cullen wrote the poem “For a Lady I Know” about one of the most notorious “Negrotarians,” Charlotte van der Veer Quick Mason. Known to her beneficiaries as “Godmother,” she was enormously rich and believed in her twilight years that true spirituality existed only in primitive people. She insisted that her “godchildren” sit at her feet and often demanded that they beg for money.
“Man, we strolled in Harlem. This was our turf.”
— Elton Fox
STROLLING
Strolling is almost a lost art in New York; at least, in the manner in which it is so generally practiced in Harlem. Strolling in Harlem does not mean merely walking along Lenox or upper Seventh Avenue or One Hundred and Thirty-fifth Street; it means that those streets are places for socializing. One puts on one’s best clothes and fares forth to pass the time pleasantly with the friends and acquaintances and, most important of all, the strangers he is sure of meeting. One saunters along, he hails this one, exchanges a word or two with that one, stops for a short chat with the other one. He comes up to a laughing, chattering group, in which he may have only one friend or acquaintance, but that gives him the privilege of joining in. He does join in and takes part in the joking, the small talk and gossip, and makes new acquaintances. . . . This is not simply going out for a walk; it is more like going out for an adventure.
— James Weldon Johnson, from Black Manhattan
Solid. Perfect.
Sooner. Cheap or shabby.
Stomp. A raucous dance party.
Stroll. To do something well, as in, “He’s really strolling.”
Syndicating. Gossiping.
Trucking. To walk with style; also: a dance step resembling the stroll.
Wobble. A dance.
Woofing. Gossip; cas
ual or aimless talk.
Work under cork. To appear on stage in blackface makeup.
FROM THE DARK TOWER
The night whose sable breast relieves the stark,
White stars is no less lovely being dark,
And there are buds that cannot bloom at all
In light, but crumple, piteous, and fall . . .
— COUNTEE CULLEN
LIKE THE LINES from Cullen’s sonnet “From the Dark Tower,” Harlem flourished in darkness bathed in moonlight. Most official events, including funerals, were held at night, when those who held jobs were off. The most lavish of these moonlit events were the parties thrown by A’Lelia Walker — the hostess of the Harlem Renaissance. Walker was the heiress to Madam C. J. Walker’s hair-straightening empire, which sold “Madam Walker’s Wonderful Hair Grower” and invented a process to take the tight curls, or “kink,” out of the hair of black women. A’Lelia Walker was a striking woman who stood six feet tall and dressed to emphasize her size with high heels and tall, plumed headdresses and turbans. Throughout the 1920s, the Walker fortune financed hundreds of parties where blacks and whites alike socialized, only to end when A’Lelia Walker died in 1931.
A’Lelia Walker’s most famous contribution to the scene was the establishment of a literary salon — the Dark Tower — in 1928. The name was taken from the title of Countee Cullen’s monthly column in Opportunity. Inspired by her bohemian friends, Walker planned to have music and dancing on one floor of her mansion at 108–110 West 136th Street, while in the library on another floor African-American art would be displayed and poetry would be read. Dubbed the “de-kink heiress,” Walker relished in her extravaganzas and invited not just the “upper rungs of the sepia social ladder,” but also downtown’s white “society café” crowd, Broadway stars, jazz luminaries, and even royalty. Guests would pass through ornate French doors, walk down a hallway with a blue velvet runner, and enter a magnificently decorated tearoom, where Langston Hughes’s poem “The Weary Blues” was stenciled on the wall. For fifteen cents guests could check their hats and ogle the talking parrot. Here, the champagne flowed and the music was hot. Someone was always on the Knabe baby grand piano while Broadway stars such as Alberta Hunter, Adelaide Hall, and the Four Bon Bons performed.
Harlem Stomp! Page 9