|
Books by Marcus Bruce
Christian
Song of the Black Valiants: Marching Tempo
/
High Ground: A Collection of Poems /
Negro soldiers in the Battle of New Orleans
I am New
Orleans: A Poem
/
Negro Iron Workers of Louisiana: 1718-1900 /
The Liberty Monument
* * *
* *
Letter 35
Ruth
Unhappy with Christian's Response
Encourages Him to Vacation in
Chicago
ARMY SERVICE FORCES
Chicago Signal Depot
1903 West Pershing Road
Chicago 9, Illinois
August 14, 1945
Dear,
dear Bruce:
I received your short note and frankly I don't think it justifies my waiting a whole week for. But I suppose you're
either awfully busy or you're not feeling well. Which is it? Usually you are much more long-winded than I. Why I've seen
you write longer letters to Bontemps.
Well, I had decided to put off my vacation but I decided a week's rest should do me a lot of good so I have taken five
days off which time, I shall use by going to the theaters, parks, museums, etc. This is the last week for concerts out in
Grant's park. The concerts have been on since the beginning of summer. Every night except Monday and Friday, concerts are
held and admission is free. It begins at 8 o'clock and at that time one can see people crowded all about the park, some sitting on
benches, and a great many relaxing on the grass. I must say, the parks here are the most beautiful I have ever seen. On hot
summer days one can see girls, women of all ages sitting out
in the sun in play suits while just opposite them traffic and business go on as usual.
The music in Grant's park is supplied by Chicago's leading Symphonic Orchestras with now and then a brilliant newcomer in
the field of classical music.
Sitting there in the park watching all these things I know you'd enjoy, I somehow wish you were here with me. Do you
think you'd care to make a trip here, say about next summer on your vacation? If you're willing, I would supply half the
fare. You need a good rest and a week or so in Chicago would about
do it. Then, together we could visit the Civic Opera house, the parks, antique shops, trading shops and even the printing
houses. There are so many beautiful places to go to, so many odd things to see, seeing so many fine things here often
instill within me a desire to travel and see the rest of the U.S. If ever I should come into some money, I think I should
like to spend it traveling.
The weather here is quite pleasant. Not too hot and not too cool. Summer's here now but it seems more like Fall. We
haven't had but 2 really hot scorching days at which time the mercury went up to 96 and 98 degrees. All the rest have been
quite cool. Would you believe it, the last of March found us still wearing coats and sweaters and also on the last of March
we had a thin covering of Snow? My first winter here wasn't so bad. I stood it pretty well. Bundled myself up with woolens,
flannels, head pieces and the like until I must have looked like Grandma. But I kept warm and didn't catch but one cold. I
think I am quite seasoned to the cold now.
Snow is so lovely when it's fresh. It's when it melt it becomes a mass of ugly slush. When the cold winds freezes the
snow it forms a slippery layer of ice which has to be shoveled off. I took about three falls last year.
The buildings here are marvelously huge and practically all built of brick. But the most beautiful are the apartments
which are built of soapstone. And because of this, they are cleaner. Dust and soot do not cling to the soapstone as with
brick.
As for the money I am making . . . Maybe it is more than you are making but it takes twice as much for me to live.
Everything is sky-high. Then too, I don't cook, I eat all of
my meals out. You see, here where I live we have a community kitchen and most of the people here do cook. I never like to
become too friendly with the folks and if I cook there's a possibility of having to come in contact with them a little
too often. Sure, I like them, respect them, and talk to them sometimes but I have yet to invite them to sit in my room and
talk. You see. I have found out, women are naturally jealous
of another woman and there's always a chance of foul play and knowing Chicago women as I know them, I want very little or no
part of them.
I can easily understand your ideas about women in general. They know now that I don't like being too friendly
and so I am never worried. Most of the people living here are women. There's only one man on our floor and we see him so
seldom it's like he's not here at all. There is also a married couple on our floor. On the second floor there are only three
people. Down in the basement is a family of three and the Janitor. In all, the house is always quiet. Thanks goodness
there are no loud mouths here.
Another reason for my not cooking is that meats, lard, etc. are really difficult to find and I would wear myself to a
frazzle just looking for food to cook.
At work we have a very large, airy, neat Cafeteria. A balanced meal is always served. There is a Colored Chef who
prepares all the meals and take it from me, he knows his business. A whole meal, as I buy it, includes ice cream and
cake comes to about 65 cents . . . then too it's according to how many side dishes one gets. Some days we get Roast beef,
another day we get baked ham. Mashed potatoes, gravy, side dishes of string beans, or Carrots, peas, beets, asparagus,
which ever you choose. Another day we'd get fish served with slaw or relish.
Egg-Foo-Young, a Chinese dish, potato patties, Pork patties, meat balls and
spahagetti, all kinds of salads with cottage cheese or if one desires a dish of cold cuts and
salad. We also have watermelon, fruits and fruit juices. The first dinner is served at 11:15 a.m. and the supper is served
7 o'clock p.m. Breakfast anytime between 7 a.m. and 8:30 a.m.
I assure you, I eat well (as if you didn't know). But
one thing eating out has done for me. It has made me leave starchy food alone and has
thereby cut off some of this weight I had gained when I left you.
On Sundays when I am at home I go to a little Creole
cook shop on 51st street. 2 blocks away and get a good dinner. Sometimes I take it home with me and eat it as I listen to the
Radio. Sunday dinners cost me much more because these places are not cheap.
As for washing and such . . . we have everything convenient in the basement for laundry but due to the soot and
dust in the air, one's clothes never become too clean and dry, so I send my things to the laundry . . . there we have a
laundry bill.
I clean the bathroom once a week and my room twice a week. The bathroom is all tiled, both floors and walls. It's
easy to clean and when cleaned it shines and sparkles like sunlight. If ever I should build a home I shant forget to make
my bathroom all tiled. I guess you must think I have some pretty big ideas, uh?
I was indeed surprised to hear that our Dr. Dailey had gotten married and above all things gone on a Second
Honeymoon! I was glad to hear of Dr. Quarles success. I miss his slow mischievous smile.
So Sister has moved into her new house. You mentioned where Annie May and Alonzo lived but what about Willie? Has
she left Alonzo? If not, when you see her tell her to write me.
I had meant to ask before about Manual, how is he? I've missed him and thought about him more than I've thought about
any of your folks. Maybe it's because I've always thought Man was more gallant than the rest. He took my part and I felt he
was earnest about it.
I guess you're wondering how I happen to type this
letter and I am on my vacation? Well, today is payday and I came down for my check. I came early because I wanted to cash it and
stay awhile to type this to you. We get paid every two weeks
exactly now. Before I had to wait fifteen and twenty days for my pay. Before I manage to save anything I am going to buy a few
clothes. Winter things, right now. You don't know what a
thrill it is to be able to make my own money and buy the things I want. I don't want for anything.
As for that short note you wrote, you could have written a much longer note if you had only answered my questions. I am
sure there's still a bone you want to pick with me. So you
just as well put it down on paper and get it all off your chest.
I am enclosing a few clippings. One is a list of the
many and varied radio stations we have here. The other is a
clipping from the Herald American paper which daily carry some short story about a newspaper boy, black or white.
The other is a page from the Sunday paper showing what's playing at the playhouses and classical theatres.
Well, that's all for now. Take it easy, and DON'T WRITE ME ANY MORE NOTES. I want a letter and nothing short of it
unless you can't do better and if I know Marcus Bruce Christian, he does know better. Give my regards to all, and
don't work too hard. Love as ever,
Your Skipper,
Ruth
P.S. While here at work our Supervisor has just told us,
President Truman announced that the Japs have accepted our terms.
<<---Previous34
Next--36->>
* * * *
*
Ruth Warm again on Chicago and Gives Christian Her View of
Conflict /
Ruth Unhappy with Christian's Response
Ruth Lonely for
Christian Chicago Wears Thin /
Ruth Enjoys Negro
Life in Chicago /
Ruth, the Bible, & a
Marriage Certificate
Ruth Anxious Aout War's
End Plans to return to Will's Point
* *
* * *
Selected Letters
Selected Diary Notes Memories of Marcus B. Christian
(Cains) Christian's
BioBibliographical Record Introduction to I AM NEW
ORLEANS
A
Theory of a Black Aesthetic Magpies,
Goddesses, & Black Male Identity
Activist Works on Next Level of Change
Intro to I Am New
Orleans
Letter from Dillard University
A
Labor of Genuine Love
Letter of Gift of
Photos
Letters from
LSU and Skip Gates * * *
* *
|
Negro Iron Workers of Louisiana: 1718-1900
By Marcus Bruce Christian
Study of the blacksmith tradition and
New Orleans famous lace balconies and fences.
Acclaimed during his
life as the unofficial poet laureate of the New Orleans
African-American community, Marcus Christian recorded a
distinguished career as historian, journalist, and literary
scholar. He was a contributor to Pelican's
Gumbo Ya Ya, and also wrote many articles that
appeared in numerous newspapers, journals, and
general-interest publications. |
 |
* * *
* *
* * * * *
 |
Salvage the Bones
A Novel by Jesmyn Ward
On one level, Salvage the Bones is a simple story about a poor black family that’s about to be trashed by one of the most deadly hurricanes in U.S. history. What makes the novel so powerful, though, is the way Ward winds private passions with that menace gathering force out in the Gulf of Mexico. Without a hint of pretension, in the simple lives of these poor people living among chickens and abandoned cars, she evokes the tenacious love and desperation of classical tragedy. The force that pushes back against Katrina’s inexorable winds is the voice of Ward’s narrator, a 14-year-old girl named Esch, the only daughter among four siblings. Precocious, passionate and sensitive, she speaks almost entirely in phrases soaked in her family’s raw land. Everything here is gritty, loamy and alive, as though the very soil were animated. Her brother’s “blood smells like wet hot earth after summer rain. . . . His scalp looks like fresh turned dirt.” Her father’s hands “are like gravel,” while her own hand “slides through his grip like a wet fish,” and a handsome boy’s “muscles jabbered like chickens.” Admittedly, Ward can push so hard on this simile-obsessed style that her paragraphs risk sounding like a compost heap, but this isn’t usually just metaphor for metaphor’s sake. She conveys something fundamental about Esch’s fluid state of mind: her figurative sense of the world in which all things correspond and connect. She and her brothers live in a ramshackle house steeped in grief since their mother died giving birth to her last child. . . . What remains, what’s salvaged, is something indomitable in these tough siblings, the strength of their love, the permanence of their devotion.— WashingtonPost
|
* *
* * *
|
The Looting of America: How Wall Street's Game of Fantasy Finance
Destroyed Our Jobs, Pensions, and Prosperity—and What We Can Do About It
By Les Leopold
How could the best and brightest (and most highly paid) in finance crash the global economy and then get us to bail them out as well? What caused this mess in the first place? Housing? Greed? Dumb politicians? What can Main Street do about it? In The Looting of America, Leopold debunks the prevailing media myths that blame low-income home buyers who got in over their heads, people who ran up too much credit-card debt, and government interference with free markets. Instead, readers will discover how Wall Street undermined itself and the rest of the economy by playing and losing at a highly lucrative and dangerous game of fantasy finance. He also asks some tough questions: Why did Americans let the gap between workers' wages and executive compensation grow so large? Why did we fail to realize that the excess money in those executives' pockets was fueling casino-style investment schemes? Why did we buy the notion that too-good-to-be-true financial products that no one could even understand would somehow form the backbone of America's new, postindustrial economy? How do we make sure we never give our wages away to gamblers again? And what can we do to get our money back? In this page-turning narrative (no background in finance required) Leopold tells the story of how we fell victim to Wall Street's exotic financial products. Readers learn how even school districts were taken in by "innovative" products like collateralized debt obligations, better known as CDOs, and how they sucked trillions of dollars from the global economy when they failed. They'll also learn what average Americans can do to ensure that fantasy finance never rules our economy again. The Economy |
 |
* *
* * *
The White Masters of the
World
From
The World and Africa, 1965
By W. E. B. Du Bois
W. E. B. Du Bois’
Arraignment and Indictment of White Civilization
(Fletcher)
* *
* * *
Ancient African Nations
* * * * *
If you like this page consider making a donation
* * * * *
Negro Digest /
Black World
Browse all issues
1950
1960
1965
1970
1975
1980
1985
1990
1995
2000
____ 2005
Enjoy!
* * * * *
The Death of Emmett Till by Bob Dylan
/
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
/
Only a Pawn in Their Game
Rev. Jesse Lee Peterson Thanks America for
Slavery
* *
* * *
The Journal of Negro History issues at Project Gutenberg
The
Haitian Declaration of Independence 1804
/
January 1, 1804 -- The Founding of
Haiti
* * * * *
* * * *
*
ChickenBones Store
(Books, DVDs, Music, and more)
update 2 March 2012
|
