Word: harlem
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...poetry. Its exact definition, however, has given jazzmen many a troubled hour. Author Hugues Panassie of the classic Le Jazz Hot tentatively explains "swing" as "une sorte de balancement dans de rythme et la mélodic qui comporte toujours un grand dynamisme." To black Bandmaster Chick Webb of Harlem's Savoy Ballroom, swing "is like lovin' a special girl, and you don't see her for a year, and then she comes back it's somethin' inside...
...From the Harlem Y. W. C. A. last week a slender, young Negro woman was lifted into a taxicab, driven away to Manhattan's Town Hall, where one of the most curious audiences of the season had gathered to hear a singer whose name had already spread the length & breadth of Europe. Some wondered why the curtain went up showing her so carefully posed in the crook of a grand piano. Not until she had sung four songs did she trouble to explain that her foot was in a cast, that she had injured it aboard ship, that...
...clothing smoking and his coal afire, Driver Wilson departed in bewilderment. Firemen later extinguished the blaze. By the smoldering bed they found the charred bodies of two Negro men, one Negro woman, all devout disciples of Harlem's bald little Rev. Major J. ("Father") Divine (TIME, May 27, March n, et ante...
...darkness just before one dawn last week an automobile sped into that part of New York City which lies north of the Harlem River, ground to a halt at the great Bronx Terminal Market. Foodhandlers, working under arc lights, stopped to stare and pound their frozen hands together, as out of the car emerged a small, swart Napoleonic figure wrapped in a greatcoat. The man mounted, with assistance, the tailboard of a truck, took a paper from his pocket. Two shivering policemen braced their shoulders, put bugles to their chapped lips, sounded assembly. Half way through the call one bugle...
...Italian prisoners, but toward men, women and children of their own race. I saw children who had stolen a little bread, with hands chained to their feet. I have not written a book, I have written an epistle. Don't call me the Self-Styled Black Eagle of Harlem-just call me the Black Eagle...