Memphis World Memphis World Publishing Co. 1955-07-15 Raymond F. Tisby MEMPHIS WORLD The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO. Every TUESDAY and FRIDAY at 164 BEALE—Phone 8-4030 Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1870 Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE W. A. Scott, II, Founder; C. A. Scott, General Manager Raymond F. Tisby .................... Managing Editor Mrs. Rosa Brown Bracy ..... Public Relations and Advertising William C. Weathers .............. Circulation Promotion The MEMPHIS WORLD is an independent newspaper — non-sectarian and non-partisan, printing news unbiasedly and supporting those things it believes to be of interest of its readers and opposing those things against the interest of its readers. SUBSCRIPTION RATES: Year $5.00—6 Months $3.00—3 Months $1.50 (In Advance) A Bad Wind Sometimes Blows Somebody Good Of late one hears from every kin and quarter protests about taxes and rumors of taxes. In some areas, tax has almost gained confiscatory proportions, and we have heard merchants say they would by far rather have the tax-take, than their measly profits often eaten into by losses and bad breaks. Yes, every one, old and young, rich and poor, low and high must feel the keen sting of taxes. But tax-talk arouses the citizen. It puts him on his political mettle; it gains that concern in his business methods and his home life that reams of paper have sought to kindle. The citizen comes into the realization that he holds the veto power of those who tax him and expend his tax dollars; he begins to feel that such economies as would reduce his huge tax rate have not been fully resorted to. Therefore, he listens, he reads and he reacts to the economic conditions now threatening his very existence. In that the non-voter who has stood by obstinately and refused to participate, in politics, comes into the realization that politics is also his business. Politicians are keenly sensitive to the economic weather and if and when proper demands are made for economizing government, they will observe proper caution in economic administration of affairs. Every citizen who buys a loaf of bread, pays taxes. In that these citizens begin to realize that they have a portion in this area of government. They also know that one must keep registered if he would defend his faith in economic government and upright officials. May the tax winds blow the unregistered voter good. SIX DAYS IN BOX-CAR Manuel Ramirez, 28, is recuperating in a hospital from the effects of six days he spent locked inside a pitch black, refrigerated railroad car. The man jumped into the car in Chicago, hoping to hitch a ride to his family in Laredo, Tex. A workman sealed the car, the temperature of which was about 50 degrees. Instead of reaching Texas, the car arrived in Philadelphia, and when the car was opened, employes found Ramirez almost too weak to move. Copyright, 1954, by Helen Reilly Distributed by King Features Syndicate SUSAN averted her own eyes indifferently, turned from the grave and walked toward the gates, thinking hard. The house in which Jim Andrus had drunk wine on the night Roger was killed with Michdel, Brodsky and a woman, was within reasonable walking of Brodsky's cabin—and that was four miles to the south. There was no car around. If the woman she had just left was the right one, how had she got here? She must, have come by bus, would go back the same way. Barry put down the paper he was reading and opened the door for her with an indulgent smile. "Satisfied, Susan?" She drove slowly back the way they had come. Nothing in the real view mirror except rain. At the intersection she pulled into the curb near a small grocery store. "I've got to pick up a couple of things and I might as well do it here." There was a bus drawn up across the street. It was a starting point. People were climbing into the bus. The driver was in a doorway, talking to a couple of men. Susan went into the store. She bought am and cheese and fruit and milk and was getting change when the cemetery woman hove into view, hurrying and clambered into the bus as it was getting ready to take off. Susan was back in the car when the bus started. She followed in its wake. Barry picked his car up at the garage and went back with her to the house. As she approached it she had trouble with her breathing. But there was no excitement, everything was peaceful. Andrus was still safe. When they went inside, making a dash for it through the downpour, Edith was there. She surveyed them, her black eyes snapping. "Where on earth—" Barry's presence made concealment impossible. "You went to that man Brodsky's funeral! Really, Susan, really!" Edith's narrow smile said that Susan had always been peculiar, but that there were limits. She said, laughing, "I only hope you won't get into the papers." Regina sat on the couch turning the pages of a magazine listlessly. She merely observed in a quiet voice, "You'd better get out of those wet things." Her thoughts were obviously elsewhere. She was probably wondering about Andrus, where he was, what was happening to him. To tell her that he was concealed in the loft of the barn within a hundred yards of them wouldn't be any help, Susan decided. It was a good thing she hadn't tried to hide her trip to the cemetery. The doctor knew about it. He dropped in ostensibly for a cup of tea between calls, but really to have a look at Regina. Dave Redgate's eyes took in everything there was to see. He braced Susan on his way out. Susan, what were you doing at that cemetery on Maldan street, a little while ago? I saw you, a patient of mine lives near there." Susan shrugged. "I had my reasons." "It's Andrus, isn't it? Susan, what's your interest in that man?" She said, "I just happen not to believe he killed Michael Brodsky." Dave's gray-green eyes were slate. "1 don't know, Susan—and I don't care. It's Regina I'm thinking of. She was getting over Roger's death, was beginning to straighten out — until Andrus Showed up, and all this happened, I don't want her hurt again." Susan said in a low voice, "Regina loved him, Dave. I don't think she's ever stopped." The doctor said, "You must be wrong. Regina adored Roger, he was her life. No man—" "Suppose Jim Andrus didn't kill Roger?" Dave said, "Now, Sue, don't worry any more. It's over and done with. Don't go on thinking about it, brooding. What you need is a sedative—I'll send something over later." He got into his coat and picked up his bag. Barry left a little later. Susan walked out on the porch with him and he said, "I hope you're not going to let this business about Andrus interfere with you too much." His hand was on her arm, his nice brown eyes on her face. "I'm worried about you, Susan. I wish you'd say you'd marry me." She was very fond of Barry, he was the best of companions and friends. Once she had thought it might do but that was a long time ago. She merely gave her head a shake and smiled. "I love you very much, Barry, but I won't marry you, and you know it" Barry continued to look at her. He said with startling and unusual vigor, "Curse that fellow Andrus, I'm starting to hate him," kissed her cheek and walked off. It was getting dark. Susan had driven her car into the barn when she got back but Barry was behind her. She wanted to give Jim Andrus the food she had bought, and more important, the information about the cemetery woman. Better, wait until it was full dark before trying anything; she went into the house. In the loft of the barn Andrus also waited for darkness to come. He had seen Lofting drive off with Susan at a quarter of three. Shortly after they left Regina had gone out, in a raincoat and scart, leaning against the wind, to post a letter. Watching her return, he had asked himself whether they could take up their interrupted lives where they had broken off a year and a half ago. To his own surprise there was no lift to the idea. Leaving the window he threw himself full length on the cot, clasped his hands behind his head, looked up into the gloom of the dusty rafters, listened to the rain on the roof, and tried to empty his mind of the present and let it till with the details of that distant night in May, the night before the wedding. So far his brain had produced only two pictures, a picture of the room with the plants and the love birds and the woman, and the interior of Midnight Mike's cabin. After awhile against the wail of the wind another image began to form, of someone, himself, being violently ill in a gutter, and a man, Midnight Mike, taking his arm. "Hold up, lad, hold up." He had been hanging onto a telephone post . . . nothing else, nothing more. Presently he tell asleep. He woke shivering. The cold was intense. The loft was dark Night had come. Something had roused him . . . He sat up and spoke aloud without any previous mental effort, any conscious volition. "A white house with a white picket fence around a front yard . . . a path to a side door marked with white stones . . ." That was all—and there it was. Now he knew what to do, what to look for. The Wolf Hill inn as a beginning, the white house as the end . . . He unwound blankets, threw them off and got stiffly to his feet. It was pitch dark out. Icy rain was changing to straight sleet. Lighted windows glimmered taintly here and there behind veils of sleet. The sidewalks were empty. An occasional car went past. Andrus went toward the Wolf Hill inn and past the gates in the direction of the flattened out curve at the summit of the hill. Once there had been a big hotel started there but it had burned to the ground and all that was left of it was a long tunnel boring into solid rock at the base of the cliff with a mountain of silt choking the end of it. He and Regina and Roger had explored the tunnel on the last week-end they had had together. Roger had gone on ahead, and Regina had been nervous. "Don't go in so far, darling. There might be snakes or something." Roger and he had made common cause against her, smiling at each other. There was nothing there now but a little park overlooking the city and the river and the palisades. The drop beyond it was precipitous. The escalator that had serviced the Hill in the early 1900's had been demolished but there was a path of sorts down the steep northwest face with steps set into it at intervals. Andrus found the opening to the path and started down. Five minutes later, assisted by gravity, sodden to the skin and considerably the worse for wear from vines and whipping branches, he reached the flat top of the old railroad embankment 1,000 feet below. He found the final pair of steps, descended, them carefully, and was on a small side street running into one of the main roads. Andrus looked around, his eyes half shut—they had grown accustomed to the darkness—and saw it —the white house with a white picket fence enclosing a front yard. It was just as he remembered it. There was a vacant lot on one side, on the other the embankment. Between the embankment and the picket fence the path, edged with white stones, led to a side door. He remembered something else. He had wanted one of the white stones as a souvenir, and Midnight Mike had objected. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Copyright, 1954, by Helen Reilly Distributed by King Features Syndicate SUSAN averted her own eyes indifferently, turned from the grave and walked toward the gates, thinking hard. The house in which Jim Andrus had drunk wine on the night Roger was killed with Michdel, Brodsky and a woman, was within reasonable walking of Brodsky's cabin—and that was four miles to the south. There was no car around. If the woman she had just left was the right one, how had she got here? She must, have come by bus, would go back the same way. Barry put down the paper he was reading and opened the door for her with an indulgent smile. "Satisfied, Susan?" She drove slowly back the way they had come. Nothing in the real view mirror except rain. At the intersection she pulled into the curb near a small grocery store. "I've got to pick up a couple of things and I might as well do it here." There was a bus drawn up across the street. It was a starting point. People were climbing into the bus. The driver was in a doorway, talking to a couple of men. Susan went into the store. She bought am and cheese and fruit and milk and was getting change when the cemetery woman hove into view, hurrying and clambered into the bus as it was getting ready to take off. Susan was back in the car when the bus started. She followed in its wake. Barry picked his car up at the garage and went back with her to the house. As she approached it she had trouble with her breathing. But there was no excitement, everything was peaceful. Andrus was still safe. When they went inside, making a dash for it through the downpour, Edith was there. She surveyed them, her black eyes snapping. "Where on earth—" Barry's presence made concealment impossible. "You went to that man Brodsky's funeral! Really, Susan, really!" Edith's narrow smile said that Susan had always been peculiar, but that there were limits. She said, laughing, "I only hope you won't get into the papers." Regina sat on the couch turning the pages of a magazine listlessly. She merely observed in a quiet voice, "You'd better get out of those wet things." Her thoughts were obviously elsewhere. She was probably wondering about Andrus, where he was, what was happening to him. To tell her that he was concealed in the loft of the barn within a hundred yards of them wouldn't be any help, Susan decided. It was a good thing she hadn't tried to hide her trip to the cemetery. The doctor knew about it. He dropped in ostensibly for a cup of tea between calls, but really to have a look at Regina. Dave Redgate's eyes took in everything there was to see. He braced Susan on his way out. Susan, what were you doing at that cemetery on Maldan street, a little while ago? I saw you, a patient of mine lives near there." Susan shrugged. "I had my reasons." "It's Andrus, isn't it? Susan, what's your interest in that man?" She said, "I just happen not to believe he killed Michael Brodsky." Dave's gray-green eyes were slate. "1 don't know, Susan—and I don't care. It's Regina I'm thinking of. She was getting over Roger's death, was beginning to straighten out — until Andrus Showed up, and all this happened, I don't want her hurt again." Susan said in a low voice, "Regina loved him, Dave. I don't think she's ever stopped." The doctor said, "You must be wrong. Regina adored Roger, he was her life. No man—" "Suppose Jim Andrus didn't kill Roger?" Dave said, "Now, Sue, don't worry any more. It's over and done with. Don't go on thinking about it, brooding. What you need is a sedative—I'll send something over later." He got into his coat and picked up his bag. Barry left a little later. Susan walked out on the porch with him and he said, "I hope you're not going to let this business about Andrus interfere with you too much." His hand was on her arm, his nice brown eyes on her face. "I'm worried about you, Susan. I wish you'd say you'd marry me." She was very fond of Barry, he was the best of companions and friends. Once she had thought it might do but that was a long time ago. She merely gave her head a shake and smiled. "I love you very much, Barry, but I won't marry you, and you know it" Barry continued to look at her. He said with startling and unusual vigor, "Curse that fellow Andrus, I'm starting to hate him," kissed her cheek and walked off. It was getting dark. Susan had driven her car into the barn when she got back but Barry was behind her. She wanted to give Jim Andrus the food she had bought, and more important, the information about the cemetery woman. Better, wait until it was full dark before trying anything; she went into the house. In the loft of the barn Andrus also waited for darkness to come. He had seen Lofting drive off with Susan at a quarter of three. Shortly after they left Regina had gone out, in a raincoat and scart, leaning against the wind, to post a letter. Watching her return, he had asked himself whether they could take up their interrupted lives where they had broken off a year and a half ago. To his own surprise there was no lift to the idea. Leaving the window he threw himself full length on the cot, clasped his hands behind his head, looked up into the gloom of the dusty rafters, listened to the rain on the roof, and tried to empty his mind of the present and let it till with the details of that distant night in May, the night before the wedding. So far his brain had produced only two pictures, a picture of the room with the plants and the love birds and the woman, and the interior of Midnight Mike's cabin. After awhile against the wail of the wind another image began to form, of someone, himself, being violently ill in a gutter, and a man, Midnight Mike, taking his arm. "Hold up, lad, hold up." He had been hanging onto a telephone post . . . nothing else, nothing more. Presently he tell asleep. He woke shivering. The cold was intense. The loft was dark Night had come. Something had roused him . . . He sat up and spoke aloud without any previous mental effort, any conscious volition. "A white house with a white picket fence around a front yard . . . a path to a side door marked with white stones . . ." That was all—and there it was. Now he knew what to do, what to look for. The Wolf Hill inn as a beginning, the white house as the end . . . He unwound blankets, threw them off and got stiffly to his feet. It was pitch dark out. Icy rain was changing to straight sleet. Lighted windows glimmered taintly here and there behind veils of sleet. The sidewalks were empty. An occasional car went past. Andrus went toward the Wolf Hill inn and past the gates in the direction of the flattened out curve at the summit of the hill. Once there had been a big hotel started there but it had burned to the ground and all that was left of it was a long tunnel boring into solid rock at the base of the cliff with a mountain of silt choking the end of it. He and Regina and Roger had explored the tunnel on the last week-end they had had together. Roger had gone on ahead, and Regina had been nervous. "Don't go in so far, darling. There might be snakes or something." Roger and he had made common cause against her, smiling at each other. There was nothing there now but a little park overlooking the city and the river and the palisades. The drop beyond it was precipitous. The escalator that had serviced the Hill in the early 1900's had been demolished but there was a path of sorts down the steep northwest face with steps set into it at intervals. Andrus found the opening to the path and started down. Five minutes later, assisted by gravity, sodden to the skin and considerably the worse for wear from vines and whipping branches, he reached the flat top of the old railroad embankment 1,000 feet below. He found the final pair of steps, descended, them carefully, and was on a small side street running into one of the main roads. Andrus looked around, his eyes half shut—they had grown accustomed to the darkness—and saw it —the white house with a white picket fence enclosing a front yard. It was just as he remembered it. There was a vacant lot on one side, on the other the embankment. Between the embankment and the picket fence the path, edged with white stones, led to a side door. He remembered something else. He had wanted one of the white stones as a souvenir, and Midnight Mike had objected. God Can Do So Much With So Little BY EVA LITTLE There are many miracles God wrought through faith, as recorded in the Holy Bible. God can take our little alth, tiny as a mustard seed, and remove mountain of difficulties from us. Nothing shall be impossible. This is consolation enough for Christians to make progress. There was a woman who had been ill with a malady for 12 years. She had gone to all the physicians but no one could cure her. By this time all of her money was gone. Doctor Jesus didn't want her money, all He wanted was a little faith. As people thronged Jesus, she had to push through the crowd. She said "If I may touch his clothes, I can be made whole" Mark 528. Jesus said unto her "Daughter thy faith hath made thee whole." Mark 5-34. One day Jesus and his disciples came to a desert place and they were very hungry. The disciples wanted to go and buy food, but their money was scare and Jesus said they need not depart. Give them rye to eat St. Matt. 14-16. "And they say unto him, we have here but five loaves and two fishes." He said, bring them hither to me." He commanded the multitude to sit down on the grass, and took the five loaves and two fishes, and looking up to heaven. He blessed, and brake and gave the loaves to His disciples and the disciples to the multitude. They all did eat and were filled, and they took up the fragments that remained twelve baskets. And they that had eaten were about five thousand men, beside women and children. What about David, killed a giant with a little stone. David trusted God with this little stone. What about the present day situation? Dr. Mary Mcleod Bethune started out with $1.50 and faith in God and founded the BethuneCookman College. From a log cabin to the White House. She was a torch bearer in leaership for America and the world. All the victories and achievements of all races come through letting God use this wonderful divine attribute to make us whole MEMPHIS AF CADET TRAINEE — Luther Lee Nolen of 3024 McAdoo Avenue, Memphis, Tennessee, is presently attending the Air Force ROTC Summer Training Unit at Kelly Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas. Cadet Nolen, who completed his junior years in Advanced AFROTC is attending a four week summer training period as part of his reserve officer training at college. While at summer training, Cadet Nolen actually observes the Air Force in action and participates in many of the Air Force operations. Following graduation at Tuskegee Institute, he will be eligible for appointment as a second lieutenant in the United States Air Force Reserve. Daddy Grace Shows and then broke ranks to put on a special act for the spectators. Followers and admirers of Daddy Grace arrived for the day's festivities from all parts of Virginia and several North Carolina communities. A bus load came from Newport News, and another from Charlotte, N. C. in addition to scores of automobiles filled with people from Newport News, Portsmouth other sections of Virginia, Charlotte and Elizabeth City, N. C. Washington, D. C. and cities on the eastern seaboard. More than 15,000 people participated in the parade on foot in addition to hundreds of automobiles and trucks and buses. "Daddy" Grace was warmly cheered during the parade and on each appearance before the throng at the church. Gently Does It GENTLENESS makes good friends... in fun-making, and in a cigarette, where gentleness is one of the greatest requirements of modern taste. That's why today's Philip Morris, born gentle, refined to special gentleness in the making makes so many friends among our young smokers. Enjoy the gentle pleasure the fresh unfiltered flavor, of today's Philip Morris. In the convenient snap-open pack, regular or smart king-size. Philip Morris MEALTIME MELODIES "Are you thinking about camping out? There is adventure and fun in staying out overnight. Whether it's the family-the-troop-club or Similar, group-plans have to be laid. Here's an outline: Plan placecost - time-check list (what to bring) — food, etc. (Menu) cook ing equipment How to dresspermission for individual and use of camp site, etc. — safe dry sleeping place — shelter and tested water supply One thing usually neglected is the dishwashing outfit think it out and arrange, soap, cleanser and cloths to make the job easier. Have a good first aid kit. Also for more complete entertainment bring along a portable radio. A camera for nature pictures will give you something to talk about many moons later. A good shack for such a trip is 12 frankfurters 1 pound American Cheese 12 buttered frankfurter buns 12 slices bacon or 12 thin slices ham Make a lengthwise split part way through frankfurters. Cut cheese in long strips and put one piece in each frankfurter. Press together and wrap with bacon, fasten the ends with toothpicks. Roast on sticks or on a grill, over hot coals until bacon is crisp and frankfurters are heated through. Serves 6. Maybe you aren't ambitious enough to camp out but you do enjoy outdoor eating "Pups in Blankets" are just as good right in your own back yard. This dessert will be fine for that back yard eating. Just remove seeds from small, cantaloupe halves and pour about a tablespoon of cherry wine in each hollow. Fill centers with vanilla ice cream. You will enjoy this perfect flavor harmony and there need not be any dishes to wash. For other camping out hints and recipe suggestions read "Hungrytime Outdoors." This booklet will be sent to you absolutely free if you call Memphis Dairy Council 8-7303 and give your name and address. Or if you live out of town just write: Memphis Dairy Council, 135 North Pauline and give your name and address so we will know where to mail the booklet. PUPS IN BLANKETS "Are you thinking about camping out? There is adventure and fun in staying out overnight. Whether it's the family-the-troop-club or Similar, group-plans have to be laid. Here's an outline: Plan placecost - time-check list (what to bring) — food, etc. (Menu) cook ing equipment How to dresspermission for individual and use of camp site, etc. — safe dry sleeping place — shelter and tested water supply One thing usually neglected is the dishwashing outfit think it out and arrange, soap, cleanser and cloths to make the job easier. Have a good first aid kit. Also for more complete entertainment bring along a portable radio. A camera for nature pictures will give you something to talk about many moons later. A good shack for such a trip is 12 frankfurters 1 pound American Cheese 12 buttered frankfurter buns 12 slices bacon or 12 thin slices ham Make a lengthwise split part way through frankfurters. Cut cheese in long strips and put one piece in each frankfurter. Press together and wrap with bacon, fasten the ends with toothpicks. Roast on sticks or on a grill, over hot coals until bacon is crisp and frankfurters are heated through. Serves 6. Maybe you aren't ambitious enough to camp out but you do enjoy outdoor eating "Pups in Blankets" are just as good right in your own back yard. This dessert will be fine for that back yard eating. Just remove seeds from small, cantaloupe halves and pour about a tablespoon of cherry wine in each hollow. Fill centers with vanilla ice cream. You will enjoy this perfect flavor harmony and there need not be any dishes to wash. For other camping out hints and recipe suggestions read "Hungrytime Outdoors." This booklet will be sent to you absolutely free if you call Memphis Dairy Council 8-7303 and give your name and address. Or if you live out of town just write: Memphis Dairy Council, 135 North Pauline and give your name and address so we will know where to mail the booklet. Would Revoke of president which was vacated by the recent death of Prof. C. L. Harper. After a lively discussion, it voted to defer this election until the general meeting in November. The plight of several hundred of Negro garment workers was also brought to the attention of the body. These workers were the employees of a large local garment concern which recently went into receivership. At the time of the closing of the business, many of the workers were owed wages for two and three weeks. Two new members, C. W. Greenlea and Dr. A. M. Davis, were sworn into the executive committee. J. H. Calhoun was also installed as acting president. During the open meeting, at which Dr. E. C. Mitchell presided, J. H. Calhoun, William Fowlkes, and Mrs. Peggy Church reported on the recent national convention held in Atlantic City, New Jersey. They were among the five delegates from Atlanta. Among the reports was one by Whitney Young, head of the Atlanta School of Social Work, who described the efforts being made to secure employment for Negroes in the city. Near the end of the public meeting an exchanged developed between C. A. Scott and V. W. Hodges when the latter ruled out of order a motion made by Mr. Scott requiring the future policy statements be cleared through the executive committee. This was aimed at limiting the statements to be made by Acting President Calhoun. $200,000 Fire Sweeps Churches In Atlantic City N. J. Two Negro Baptist churches were wrecked by fire within a matter of hours here last week. Officials of Union Baptist temple and Second Baptist church said that total damages exceeded $200,000. Thomas B. Wooten, public safety director said he believed the fires were set deliberately and placed police guards at all other Negro church es in the city.