only about the size of stick matches, I was able to make enough of them so that, after selling
them to musicians I knew at the Braddock Hotel, I could pay back Sammy and have enough profit
to be in business. And those musicians when they saw their buddy, and their fan, in business: "My
man!" "Crazy, Red!"
In every band, at least half of the musicians smoked reefers. I'm not going to list names; I'd have
to include some of those most prominent then in popular music, even a number of them around
today. In one case, every man in one of the bands which is still famous was on marijuana. Or
again, any number of musicians could tell you who I mean when I say that one of the most
famous singers smoked his reefers through a chicken thighbone. He had smoked so many
through the bone that he could just light a match before the empty bone, draw the heat through,
and get what he called a "contact" high.
I kept turning over my profit, increasing my supplies, and I sold reefers like a wild man. I scarcely
slept; I was wherever musicians congregated. A roll of money was in my pocket. Every day, I
cleared at least fifty or sixty dollars. In those days (or for that matter these days), this was a
fortune to a seventeen-year-old Negro. I felt, for the first time in my life, that great feeling of
free! Suddenly, now, I was the peer of the other young hustlers I had admired.
It was at this time that I discovered the movies. Sometimes I made as many as five in one day,
both downtown and in Harlem. I loved the tough guys, the action, Humphrey Bogart in
"Casablanca," and I loved all of that dancing and carrying on in such films as "Stormy Weather"
and "Cabin in the Sky." After leaving the movies, I'd make my connections for supplies, then roll
my sticks, and, about dark, I'd start my rounds. I'd give a couple of extra sticks when someone
bought ten, which was five dollars' worth. And I didn't sell and run, because my customers were
my friends. Often I'd smoke along with them. None of them stayed any more high than I did.
Free now to do what I pleased, upon an impulse I went to Boston. Of course, I saw Ella. I gave
her some money: it was just a token of appreciation, I told her, for helping me when I had come
from Lansing. She wasn't the same old Ella; she still hadn't forgiven me for Laura. She never
mentioned her, nor did I. But, even so, Ella acted better than she had when I had left for New
York. We reviewed the family changes. Wilfred had proved so good at his trade they had asked
him to stay on at Wilberforce as an instructor. And Ella had gotten a card from Reginald who had
managed to get into the merchant marine.
From Shorty's apartment, I called Sophia. She met me at the apartment just about as Shorty went
off to work. I would have liked to take her out to some of the Roxbury clubs, but Shorty had told
us that, as in New York, the Boston cops used the war as an excuse to harass interracial couples,
stopping them and grilling the Negro about his draft status. Of course Sophia's now being married
made us more cautious, too.
When Sophia caught a cab home, I went to hear Shorty's band. Yes, he had aband now. He had
succeeded in getting a 4-F classification, and I was pleased for him and happy to go. His band
was-well, fair. But Shorty was making out well in Boston, playing in small clubs. Back in the
apartment, we talked into the next day. "Homeboy, you're something else!" Shorty kept saying. I
told him some of the wild things I'd done in Harlem, and about the friends I had. I told him the
story of Sammy the Pimp.
In Sammy's native Paducah, Kentucky, he had gotten a girl pregnant. Her parents made it so hot
that Sammy had come to Harlem, where he got a job as a restaurant waiter. When a woman
came in to eat alone, and he found she really was alone, not married, or living with somebody, it
generally was not hard for smooth Sammy to get invited to her apartment. He'd insist on going out
to a nearby restaurant to bring back some dinner, and while he was out he would have her key
duplicated. Then, when he knew she was away, Sammy would go in and clean out all her
valuables. Sammy was then able to offer some little stake, to help her back on her feet. This
could be the beginning of an emotional and financial dependency, which Sammy knew how to