HUNGRY GERALD

In the wake of frightening events in Missouri, HG/BSK watched a wrenching video of Billie Holiday singing the anti-lynching song “Strange Fruit.” It was in 1946 that young HG heard Holiday sing the song during her appearance at the Club Onyx on New York’s W.52nd Street (then known as “Swing Street.”). As was her custom. lights were dimmed (only a spot on Holiday’s face) as she sang “Strange Fruit.” At the end, all lights went out. No encore. HG nursed a beer at the bar and Holiday moved HG to tears. The song was written by a Jewish, Bronx high school teacher, Abel Meeropol. He wrote the song after seeing a photo of Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith, two young African-American men, hanging from a tree following an Aug. 7, 1930 lynching in southern Indiana. The lynching of African-American men (most prevalent in the South) was very much part of American life for many years. Lynch mobs (and their leaders) were seldom prosecuted. The Dyer Anti-Lynching Law (which would have made lynching a federal offense), was introduced in the House of Representatives in 1918 and was passed but was defeated in the Senate by a Southern filibuster. This established a disgraceful pattern. Some 200 anti-lynching measures were introduced (the last in 1956) but all were blocked by Southern Senators. In 2005, the United States Senate issued a formal apology for its actions. Deemed superfluous by later civil rights legislation, the United States has, in fact, never passed an anti-lynching law. (A sidebar: Abel Meeropol, a Communist, and his wife, adopted the two sons of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg following their execution for espionage. According to the boys, they had a happy childhood with the Meeropols. They recalled Meeropol as an uproariously funny household comic and mimic. Our days were filled with laughter, said the boys).

In 1951 Ivan Black, the press agent for the Cafe Society clubs, became involved in a bitter battle with Walter Winchell, the all-powerful columnist and radio personality. Josephine Baker, the New York raised, African American dancer who had become one of the most famous entertainers in France, went to the Stork Club — at the time, one of New York’s top clubs and celebrity hangouts. Ms. Baker felt she received rude service because of her race and she made her displeasure known. A radio talk show guy, Barry Gray, took up Baker’s cause and criticized Sherman Billingsley, the Stork Club proprietor. Billingsley was a Winchell pal (WW had a nightly table in the Club’s super-exclusive Cub Room). The battle was on: Barry Gray and Ivan Black VS the Stork Club and Walter Winchell. WW accused Baker of fascist sympathies and communist ties. (Baker sued WW for defamation — but the timid State Department refused her a visa for some years so she was unable to take the suit to court). WW characterized Barry Gray and Ivan Black (who was also the press agent for the restaurant where Gray broadcast) as “commie sympathizers.” In WW’s columns, Gray was ” Borey Pink” and Black was “Ivan Pink.” Such was Winchell’s power that Gray was hounded out of New York. He relocated to Miami where he was very successful and later returned to New York as a popular (and politically conservative) radio gabber. Today, he is acknowledged as the “Father of Talk Radio.” Ivan, a gentle and scholarly Harvard graduate, had some business reverses but survived. The Ivan Black papers at the New York Public Library (some 55 boxes of press releases, clippings, photos and musical scores) are an invaluable historical source for the night club and jazz scene in New York (1937-1978).

Winchell? Television destroyed him. His TV show was a flop. Soon his radio broadcast and column disappeared. With chagrin, he watched his old rival, Ed Sullivan, become a TV icon. (Yes, WW did voice overs on “The Untouchables” TV show but that was just nostalgia shtick). WW died, quite forgotten, age 74. HG is ambivalent about WW. Winchell liked the prose HG contributed to his column and gave HG clients favorable mention. HG’s career as a press agent got a jump start when Winchell printed, in bold face, a prose poem HG authored. WW sent HG a note: “Keep it comin’, keed–WW.” And that’s what HG has done for many a year.

As for Abel “Strange Fruit” Meeropol who was mentioned in Part I of the University Place posts: He and his wife adopted the two orphaned young sons of atom spies Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. Both boys grew up to be college professors. Their childhood with the Meeropols was a happy one. Abel, they recall, was a master of comic improvisations and impersonations. He kept them laughing. After the torment that those boys went through, HG is certainly thankful for that.

HG recently did a post on the good and bad sides of Cedar Bar the legendary hangout of abstract expressionist artists and their hangers on. Its location was University Place in New York’s Greenwich Village neighborhood. A meandering torrent of HG memories ensued. Let’s start with an omelette and burger joint, Cookery, on the corner of 8th and University Place. Food was adequate but secondary. Its renown was based on live jazz. Mary Lou Williams and Alberta Hunter were two of the club’s star performers. Opened in the 50’s and had an almost 30-year run. The owner was a Village legend, the elegant and courtly Barney Josephson. A remarkable guy, Barney was a race relations pioneer. In 1940, he opened a night club — Cafe Society Downtown — in a basement on Sheridan Square. First totally racially integrated — performers and audience — night club in New York and perhaps in the United States. Even the great Harlem clubs of the 20’s — the Cotton Club, etc. — were “whites only.” Yes, a few African-American were seated, but in obscure, hidden locations. Barney changed all that. With the legendary John Hammond acting as talent scout, Barney booked great jazz artists like Billie Holliday and Sarah Vaughan and fledgling stars like Lena Horne. He is also credited for starting the vogue for folk music in Greenwich Village by presenting Josh White. It wasn’t all music. There were laughs. Zero Mostel was the Master of Ceremonies and Imogene Coca and Carol Channing performed there. The club’s press agent, Ivan Black (more on him later), gave Mostel his odd first name: “Because he came from nothing.” A Bronx school teacher, Abel Meeropol (more on him later), approached Barney with a song he had written, Strange Fruit, a passionate, wrenching protest against the lynching of African-Americans. Billie Holliday sang the song and it was a smash. Barney had special rules for the song. It would end her set and there would be no encore. The club would go silent and there would be no service when it was sung. No lights but a baby spot on Holliday’s face. HG was too young for Cafe Society Downtown but heard Billie sing it at the Onyx Club on W. 52nd Street. Same presentation. Devastating. With the success of Cafe Society Downtown, Barney opened Cafe Society Uptown on E. 58th. Both clubs flourished. Then, disaster. Barney’s brother, Leon, was the lawyer for both clubs. A radical leftist (Leon was briefly jailed in Denmark in 1935 for joining in an unsuccessful plot to kill Hitler), Leon was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee at the height of the Red scare. Tough and defiant, Leon refused to testify and was cited for contempt. The Hearst newspapers and their columnists (Westbrook Pegler, Dorothy Kilgallen and Walter Winchell), declared war on
Josephson and the two clubs. Performers were cowed by threats their careers would end if they performed at “commie” clubs. People who patronized the clubs feared reprisals. By 1948 the clubs were gone. Barney was quiet for a while but soon got back in action by founding the Cookery chain. At one point there were five but Barney closed the other four so he could concentrate on the University Place location. The University Place Cookery closed in 1984 after reuniting Jospehson with many of the performers he had introduced at the original Cafe Society. In 1988 he died at 86.