Harlem Nocturne (17 page)

B
y late autumn 1943, Harlem faced an uncertain future. It would never fully recover from the riot. Whites, who had been an important source of income, stopped patronizing its nightlife. Eventually, many of the residents of Sugar Hill moved to places like St. Albans, Queens, and the Bronx. Some of the buildings that had been damaged during the riots remained empty of occupants for years. The scourge of heroin and gang violence began to overwhelm Harlem's streets. Eventually, urban renewal efforts would transplant large numbers of Harlem's black poor from tenements to high-rise housing projects, thereby contributing further to the concentration of poverty.

Nonetheless, the sense of political optimism had not completely vanished, as was evident when, on October 24, 1943, the fourth Sunday of the month, close to 4,000 “too-too girls”
and their companions found their way to the Golden Gate Ballroom at 140th and Lenox. New York would hold its first Fashion Week that fall, a gathering of designers, fashion editors, and buyers—fashion industry insiders all. Uptown, the “too-too girls” set their own trends, and the streets of Harlem were their runways. That night, some of them wore softly tailored suits with nipped waists and round collars; others donned shirtwaist dresses with thin fabric belts. Pompadours and platform pumps seemed to send them soaring. The sidewalk outside the Golden Gate filled with young couples and groups of young men and women, all anticipating the evening. The occasion: a political rally in support of African American Communist Benjamin J. Davis Jr., a candidate for city council.
¹

On October 16, 1943, a full-page ad had run in the
Amsterdam News:

THRILLING—SENSATIONAL—INSPIRING—COLOSSAL

. . .

TERRIFIC ENTERTAINMENT TEDDY WILSON

PRESENTS

ALL STAR VICTORY SHOW

I
N
T
RIBUTE TO

B
ENJ
. J. D
AVIS
, J
R
.

C
ITY
C
OUNCIL
C
ANDIDATE
.

The ad featured photographs of Fredi Washington, Coleman Hawkins, Paul Robeson, Billie Holiday, and Mary Lou Williams. Tickets ranged from 55 cents to $2.50. That same issue ran an article about the planned event.

After graduating from Harvard Law School in 1929, Benjamin Davis had opened a legal office in Atlanta, where he had represented Angelo Herndon, who faced the death penalty for simply leading a protest demonstration. Stunned by the bitter racism he confronted in court, Davis joined the Communist Party. It was the party's support for and defense of Herndon—as well as the Scottsboro Boys, nine young black men indicted for the rape of two white women—that helped to garner the party such widespread respect in many black communities during the thirties and forties. Consequently, Davis was already an admired figure when he relocated to Harlem in 1935. In New York he edited the journal
Negro Liberator
and worked on the staff of the
Daily Worker
. By 1937, he had become a secretary of the Harlem Division of the Communist Party. Within a few years, Davis was one of the most popular political figures in Harlem. He was a leader who gave voice to the community's concerns and placed their plight in the context of larger national and global struggles. Davis saw “perfectly legitimate grievances” as the cause of the riots of 1943, including an increase in police brutality against blacks even as black soldiers fought against the fascists abroad.

By the time he ran for Powell's council seat, Davis had received the endorsement of the clergyman congressman and a bevy of Harlem's religious, civic, and political leaders. Cultural
figures, including the writers Richard Wright and Langston Hughes, and actress Fredi Washington had also endorsed him. Poet Countee Cullen joined Ben Gold, president of the Fur Worker's Union, and Ferdinand Smith, secretary of the National Maritime Union, as a vice chairman of the nonpartisan committee to elect Ben Davis to the City Council of New York. Audley Moore, who would later be known as Queen Mother Moore, served as campaign manager. Moore is best known for her black nationalist politics, but at the time she was a leading black leftist. In the 1940s, ideological lines were not as harshly drawn between leftists and black nationalists; they were united in their commitment to the black freedom struggle. The brilliant pianist Teddy Wilson—the “Marxist Mozart”—chaired the Artists Committee. As pianist at Café Society and a widely respected musician, Wilson had helped to further Billie Holiday's career by featuring her as vocalist on a number of his recordings. He was able to successfully organize his fellow artists to appear at the rally in support of Davis's candidacy.

Two hours before the show started, the fire department had to close the doors because the ballroom was already filled to capacity. According to Davis, another 5,000 people stood outside the ballroom awaiting entrance. The committee quickly rented another hall six blocks away, the Renaissance, at 121 West 138th Street, and over 2,000 people came to hear the entertainers give a second show.

Musicians Coleman Hawkins, Hazel Scott, Count Basie, Lucky Roberts, Art Tatum, Jimmie Lunceford, and Mary Lou Williams; vocalists Billy Daniels, Billie Holiday, Lena Horne,
Josh White, and Ella Fitzgerald; and dancers Helen Tamiris and Pearl Primus were among the featured performers. There was even a performance by the Swa-Hili Dance Group “in Native African Dances.” Fredi Washington served as mistress of ceremonies. Adam Clayton Powell Jr. roused the crowd with his opening remarks: “The will of the anti-Fascists, anti-Christian Frontiers and anti–Ku Klux Klan will send Benjamin J. Davis, Jr., to the City Council on November 2.” Paul Robeson introduced Davis, remembering their long friendship, which had started when Robeson's Rutgers football team played against Davis's Amherst College team. (Davis had been the star of the team and was named “All Eastern Tackle” his senior year.) Hazel Scott received a roar of applause, not only because of her performance but also because of her $100 contribution to Davis's campaign ($1,333 in today's dollars). The cast of the Broadway play
Oklahoma
pledged $100 each to the campaign. And labor leader Elizabeth Gurley Flynn joined others of note on the platform. The
People's Voice
reported that the event “brought out more top flight stars than have ever honored any political candidate in the history of Harlem.” According to the
Amsterdam News
, the artists “gave from the heart in a thrilling performance for a cause close to their hearts.”
²

In November 1943, Harlem sent Benjamin Davis, a Communist leader, to the New York City Council to represent their interests. On November 11, 1943, shortly after the election, a
New York Times
headline read “Democrats Margin in New Council Cut, ‘Left' Forces Gain.” Fellow Communist Peter V. Cacchione of Brooklyn joined Davis on the council. Davis
noted that it was “crystal clear” that he had not been elected by Harlem alone or by the Communist Party alone. Davis had been elected by a coalition of voters who crossed religious, ethnic, and racial boundaries.
³

When Davis returned to the Golden Gate Ballroom to deliver his first report on the city council, Count Basie, Teddy Wilson, Billie Holiday, Pearl Primus, Josh White, and Mary Lou Williams provided the entertainment again. In 1945, Davis won reelection with the second-highest vote ever received by a councilman. However, in 1949, he was expelled from the council. Tried and convicted, along with other Communists, under the Smith Act for conspiring to overthrow the US government, he was imprisoned, and he was not released until 1954. But Harlemites and their beloved celebrities refused to give up on Davis and continued to hold rallies in support of him even after his arrest. As late as 1949, Ann Petry wrote that Harlemites had “voted for Ben Davis because [they] felt he would never sell Harlem down the river,” not because they were members of the Communist Party.
⁴
For Petry, Davis's commitment to black people, particularly those who were economically disadvantaged, endeared him to Harlem. They believed he would fight for their concerns and that he would not comply with policies that were not in their best interest. For them, his racial loyalties were more significant than his party affiliation.

The artists who performed at the events in support of Davis's candidacy more than likely shared these sentiments. They were not just the black community's most popular stars; with
the exception of Count Basie and Ella Fitzgerald, most of the musicians were also affiliated with Café Society, which meant that they were likely staunch supporters of progressive causes. Teddy Wilson drew on his colleagues at Café Society, and the club's owner, Barney Josephson, encouraged his artists to be involved in political and civic events.

Mary Lou Williams was one such artist. Williams performed at Café Society nightly, and the club quickly became the nexus of her political, social, and creative life. Mary Lou and other performers from Café Society performed at a number of benefits. According to Williams, “Josh White had just joined the show . . . and we used to do sometimes 2 or 3 benefits per night.”
⁵
These might be performances for soldiers at the Canteen on 44th Street or benefits for war relief, war orphans, political rallies, or other causes.

The Davis rally was the beginning of Mary Lou Williams's political activity.
⁶

Of her political involvement, Williams later said, “There's not one musician I think would be in any kind of political anything if they weren't disturbed about the race, as being abused and whatnot, [and] trying to help the poor.”
⁷
A child of the black poor, Williams believed they suffered from the twin evils of racism and poverty and that they were in need of special assistance. Williams remained deeply concerned about and committed to the plight of black Americans, especially the black poor, for the rest of her life. There were rumors she hosted Communist Party cell meetings in her Harlem apartment. It is unclear whether these rumors were true. But, although she
sympathized with the Communist cause, and may have generously opened up her home to artists and activists who needed a place to meet, she was never a member of the Communist Party.

Most importantly, more so than Primus or Petry, Williams's passion for racial and economic justice was as spiritually driven as it was politically motivated. In fact, one cannot separate her spiritual quest from her political and philanthropic activities. By the early 1940s, she had not yet found a religion or a denomination to which to direct her spiritual yearnings. Nonetheless, her sense of spirituality, deeply informed by a kind of organic mysticism, called her to act in the world to alleviate human suffering. Unlike Petry and Primus, Williams did not always do so through organized efforts; in fact, most often she was engaged in individual, one-on-one efforts to free people of debt, addiction, violence, and homelessness.

By the time she moved to Sugar Hill in Harlem during the summer of 1943, Williams was already an established star in the black community. Black newspapers across the country documented her move to the city as well as her residency at Café Society. (It should be remembered that papers such as the
Pittsburgh Courier
, the
Chicago Defender
, and the
Baltimore Afro-American
had national distribution, so the news they reported was the news of black America.) When Williams moved to Harlem, the
Amsterdam News
reminded readers that “she is an Immortal of Jazz, one of the best female pianists in the business, and one of the top arrangers and composers regardless of sex.”