Sugar House (9780991192519) (15 page)

In the good old summer time,

Strolling thru' a shady lane

With your baby mine.

You hold her hand and she holds yours,

And that's a very good sign

That she's your tootsie wootsie

In the good, old
summer time.
^[1]

"Why would anyone want to listen to that mushy
nonsense instead of ragtime?" Joe asked.

The piano player laughed. "Easier to dance
slow to, my boy, and the ladies like it. But you two won't care
about that for a few years yet. Here, I'll play you another rag.
This one's called 'Echoes from the Snowball Club.'" The man turned
toward the ivory keys and began to play another spirited tune.

"That's the best song I've ever heard," said
Sam when the player had finished.

"Uh huh!" added Joe.

"Well, thank ya kindly small gentlemen…
you're looking at the composer of that rag. Harry P. Guy, at your
service." Harry P. Guy tipped his imaginary cap.

"You? You wrote that?" asked Joe.

"Sure did, boy. Almost twenty years ago.
Probably played it a thousand times since then. Still love it. I
could play that rag every day and never get tired of it," said
Harry.

"Wow, a thousand times? And never get tired
of it?" asked Sam.

"No, and I'll tell you why. Come here closer
boys. I'll let you in on a little secret… 'Echoes from the Snowball
Club' is a musical story of sorts. Ya see, when I came here to
Detroit over twenty years ago there was only one or two small Negro
bands. All the white folk listened to classical music and such;
ragtime had just come out a year or two before at the Chicago
World's Fair."

Joe interrupted for a moment. "Were you at
the World's Fair?"

"No boy, now be quiet and let me tell you
this story, ya wanna hear it, right?"

"Yes sir! Sorry." Joe sat on a stool near the
piano to listen to the piano player's tale.

"Now, I been playing piano since I was a boy.
Some said I had a knack for tickling the ivories. Didn't much care
what others said… just loved playing. Even got a scholarship to the
National Conservatory of Music in New York! Can you imagine? A
scholarship for a mulatto piano player! Family was so proud. Had
myself a grand old time in New York. Even played at Carnegie Hall
one time. I suppose you boys never heard of Carnegie Hall."

"No sir, is it famous?" asked Joe.

"Is it famous?" Harry laughed. "You could say
that. Well, I meet this beautiful angel named Julia, and I follow
her here to Detroit because she puts some kinda voodoo love spell
over me and I gotta have her for my wife. So I look around and find
me a job playing in a Vaudeville theater while I am trying to
convince Julia to marry me. Soon I hear about an opening in an
all-Negro orchestra called Finney's and I audition. Before I know
it, I'm playing with the best musical group in the city, and we
can't find enough nights in the week to play for all the requests
we're getting; on account of the white folk are loving ragtime
music and want us to play for all their dances and parties.

"Woo Hoo! And did we have a good time
playing. We played day and night! Played for the Detroit City Band
afternoons on the steam ships on the river and for Finney at night!
Rolling in dough we were."

Joe and Sam stood next to the upright piano
listening. Harry's arms and hands emphasized words and sentences
for effect.

"Well, good money for a colored man, anyway.
We spent all of it too, but that's a story for another day. Did one
thing right though, joined the Black Musicians Union. That's
leading me to the point of the Snowball Club. The Negro bands and
orchestras got so popular, the white musicians couldn't get any
work. So the white boys decided they wanted to get a piece of the
pie and they petitioned to join our union."

Harry started laughing so hard at this point
that a tear streamed down his light bronze cheek. "White boys
tryin' to join a colored union! Whites were putting us down for two
hundred years… we finally got a leg up, and they thought we were
going to help them out?" Harry guffawed and slapped his knee. "So I
was so tickled by this. I sat down and wrote a song about it.
Called it 'Echoes from the Snowball Club' because that's what they
called the union when we blackballed the white musicians."

One of the other men picked up the story.
"Best part is Harry's song's so popular, the white boys gotta play
it when they
do
get a job!" The men laughed and laughed,
smiling and playfully punching each other in the arm. The boys
smiled at the men and waited for their amusement to subside.

"Sorry boys, we get carried away with that
story sometimes," Harry said, wiping his eyes. "You boys looking
for something in particular?"

"No sir," replied Sam. "Just having a look
around."

"You don't happen to be wanting to hear the
gramophone, do you?"

"Yes sir! I mean, if we can; that'd be
terrific sir," replied Sam.

"Come on boys. Let's show these young lads
our new piece of musical machinery, shall we?" Harry said. The boys
followed him to the other side of the store, where the gramophone
was. Joe looked at the tall wooden cabinet with the horn attached
and wondered how it could play music.

"You mind if I choose the record?" he
asked.

Joe and Sam looked at each other unsure how
to reply. "No sir," said Sam.

Harry walked behind the gramophone and pulled
a long thick envelope from one of fifty wooden slots on the wall
behind it. He glanced at the title and put it back. "Too slow," he
said. Pulling another he also returned it to its place. "Too lovey
dovey." Pulling a third envelope out he announced that he had found
the right record.

"Here we go boys. This one'll tickle your
funny bones." Harry took the record out of the envelope, placed it
on the Victrola and set the needle on it. After a few bars of
music, a man's comedic voice began to sing "The Little Ford Rambled
Right Along." Harry knew a few things about young boys, because he
couldn't have chosen a better tune. The singer crooned about a Ford
automobile beating out a limousine. The little Ford could run over
glass, smash up fences and telegraph poles, run into ditches, and
speed out of sight of cops. The boys giggled at the verses,
enjoying the antics of the car. When the singer sang "he ran into a
mule and the darned old jackass kicked like a fool," the boys
laughed out loud.

When the record was over, Harry stopped the
gramophone and placed the record back in its slot. "Well, boys…
whatcha think?"

"That was great, Mr. Guy," said Joe.

"Now, don't be calling me that, boys. Harry
will do just fine. I gotta get moving on out now. I'm filling in
for one of the boys at the Pier Ballroom tonight. Hey, why don't
you come down and watch a set? Just stand by the back door where it
says colored employee entrance and I'll find you."

"We're going to go to a dance at the Polonia
Hall, but thanks anyway Harry. Maybe another day!" replied Joe. Joe
and Sam looked around the store for a few more minutes after Harry
left. Sam pointed out the player pianos to Joe and explained how
they operated. Joe wanted to try working the pedals and make music
on his own, but Sam was anxious to move onto to their next
adventure.

A cold wind swept down the avenue as the boys
exited the store. Joe pulled his cap down over his ears and felt a
chill go down his back.

"Come on, Joe" said Sam excitedly. "Let's
check out a real live show!" Sam took off down the busy sidewalk
toward Campus Martius Park and turned right on Monroe Street. Large
gaudy signs covered the buildings here and extended above them.
This street was known as the Theater District, a broad term to
describe the entertainment available there. Flashing lights
advertised vaudeville, burlesque, and moving picture films.
Nickelodeons and arcades sandwiched in-between larger theaters. Joe
stopped to gawk at the bright lights.

"We've gotta come here at night and take a
look at these lights, Sam" Joe said. "It must look incredible."

"Yeah, sure, come on Joe. Let's go buy a
ticket for a show. What do you want to see?"

"Your pick, Sam, I wouldn't know where to
start."

Sam appeared unsure himself as he looked up
the bustling street. How to choose their afternoon entertainment
with so many choices on one street? All within two blocks; the
Palace, the Temple, the Liberty, the Columbia, the Royale, and the
National Theatre all beckoned to acquire the boys' coins. Joe
thought the National Theatre looked the best, with its two dazzling
domed towers straddling an arched entranceway. But it was Sam's
money and his choice, so Joe remained silent.

"Here! Let's go in this one," Sam said,
pointing at the Palace Theatre, next door to the one Joe wanted to
attend. "Shows are only ten cents, and they are showing Charlie
Chaplin in 'Shanghaied.' Sam paid their twenty cents to the ticket
attendant in the booth on the sidewalk, and they walked into the
theater. The lobby was small and dark, with posters of upcoming
films haphazardly pasted on the walls. A uniformed man took the
boys' tickets and opened the door to the theater. Joe and Sam
walked down the narrow aisle and found a seat near the front of the
stage.

"Hey, look! See the organ?" Joe asked
Sam.

"Yeah, they play the music for the movies on
it. Some bigger theaters have a whole orchestra that sits down near
the stage and plays."

Joe settled into his wooden seat, enjoying
the warmth of the theater and the excitement of a new experience.
The organ began to play a light tune. A couple appeared on the
stage, which was thirty feet in length. They were introduced as Mr.
Bee Ho Gray and his wife, Ada Sommerville. Bee Ho was dressed in
cowboy chaps, neck bandana, and Stetson hat. Ada was in similar
attire but wearing a tasseled leather skirt. Holding hands, they
smiled at the crowd and moved to separate sides of the stage. Bee
Ho began twirling a lasso above his head, and Ada mimicked the
maneuver. They dipped and twirled their ropes in perfect synchrony.
Bee Ho spun his lariat and began to jump through it and back.

Then Ada brought out several objects onto the
stage, a small beer keg, a Coca-Cola bottle, and a thimble. She
placed the keg on a stool and stood back. Bee Ho easily lassoed the
keg and caught it with his left hand. The audience clapped and
stomped their feet. Next she placed the glass bottle on the stool
and Bee Ho caught it as easily as the first. The audience responded
with whistles and applause. When Ada place the thimble on the stool
the crowd began to cheer in anticipation. But Bee Ho tricked them
and just knocked off the thimble with the rope. The crowd laughed
and Ada moved the props off stage.

Ada threw another rope at Bee Ho and he began
to twirl one above his head and the other at his feet. As he jumped
into the second rope at his feet while twirling the first around
his body the crowd stood on their feet. Joe and Sam had to stand on
their chairs to see. A white horse walked onto the stage from the
left, with Ada was sitting astride her. As they reached center
stage, Ada whispered in the horse's ear, commanding her to bow
before the audience. The audience roared, and Ada directed the
horse to stand again and dance along with the organ. Joe had seen
horses do many tasks but never dancing! He was delighted. The act
ended with Bee Ho spinning three lariats and lassoing the horse by
its neck and feet and his wife by the neck. Ada laughed; lifting
off the lasso and jumped from her mount as they both took a
bow.

The theatre manager came onto the stage and
announced that the couple had been secured by the Palace for a
one-time engagement only and that they could be seen all weekend
performing at the Orpheum Theatre on Lafayette, with their entire
entourage of cowboys, Indians, rodeo clowns, and horses.

Joe wiggled in his seat as a large white
screen was pulled down by two ushers in matching uniforms. The
lights dimmed. For a minute the screen remained black, and then it
came alive with scenes of soldiers fighting in Europe. The newsreel
had subtitles in English informing the audience of the latest
battles that had occurred. Images of young men in muddy fields
operating cannons and men in trenches shooting at the enemy flashed
before Joe's eyes. The men looked crowded and dirty as they went
about digging and fighting. Typed updates flashed at the bottom
describing the progress of the war and reminding the audience of
the continued state of neutrality of the United States.

When the newsreel showed several young
soldiers lying dead in a shallow grave, the audience began to
murmur loudly. A man a few rows behind the boys spoke loudly to his
companion. "America needs to join the war." His companion
disagreed, and others chimed in with their opinions.

"We need to stay out of their war. Europe is
always fighting!" one yelled.

"My family is over there! We need to join in
and help the Allies!" shouted another.

"Germany needs to be stopped! Remember the
Lusitania!" shouted yet another, referring to the passenger liner
that had been sunk by the Germans the year before, with many
Americans aboard. Several men stood up and began arguing and
pushing each other.

The organist began to play a lighthearted
tune to change the mood of the audience, and the theater manager
quickly started the feature film. The crowd quieted and settled in
to watch the show. A funny sort of Gypsy music floated from the
organ as the opening credits played on the screen.

Joe and Sam laughed uproariously as Charlie
Chaplin kicked, punched and tripped about the ship he was on, never
losing the small bowler hat he always wore. He rambled and danced
on the screen. The crowd went wild when he tried to eat his dinner
on the rocking ship. They clapped and whistled when he sailed into
the sunset with his girl.