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[[preprinted]] THE SHOW-DOWN Page 11 [[/preprinted]] [[begin column 1 of 2]] Bombay, or Turkesan. Here one can see mem- bees of every race and nationality working side by side in contentment and harmony. There are several dance halls of the taxi vari- ety on this street. At night their open windows giving forth the barbaric off beat rhythm of the Negro orchestras. We continues to walk. As we stroll leisurely along, we are attracted by a crowd. Inquisitive, we cross to them. A man who claims to be the son of an African chief, extolls his fellow black workers to fight for economic freedom. We be- come interested in his diction and masterful elocu- tion, which is perfect. Later we learn that he is a graduate of Oxford University, England. The crowd is composite. Here and there, a few whites are listening intently. A group to the right are talking in cockney dialect. West Indian Negroes from the British Island possessions. In our walk we have passed several of these gather- ings. An Indian medicine man, in full tribal regalia, with his snake oil and liniments guaranteed to cure all ills and pains. A communist excitedly preaching the doctrine of Karl Marx. On another corner an old blind couple, a Neg- ro man and woman, are singing a spiritual in the old fashion way, accompanied by a blind hunch- back dwarf, playing the organ, from the bowels of which, comes the sad and minor strains of the spiritual they are singing. The hunchback's gingers, deft and nimble, seem to become a part of the instrument. There are stores and shops of every descrip- tion on both sides of the street. Here and there a fortune teller. Stores where one can buy herbs and drugs foreign to the whites, East Indian, African and Hindu shops, catering to the superstitions of the tropics, love powders, cure alls, luck charms, fetish- es, and other elements of witchcraft and magic. Dress shops, where copies of the latest Pari- sian gowns can be bought. Madame Nadine advertises in her apartment window, that she can help you communicate with the deceased. A Haitian mystery man, unknown to the law practices, the magic of voodoo. Sailor John stands in front of his miniature museum, surrounded by a conglomeration of curi- osities, freak objects, a stuffed alligator, birds, paintings, rugs and masks from the South Seas. In the center, a tray of what appears to be rare jewels, fake of course. Restaurants, where one can be served any kind of food concoction desired. The curried foods of the Orient, Chinese dishes, Japanese shrimp, fried chicken, corn pone, chili con carne, Italian spa- ghetti, crab gumbo, French and Creole dishes. A haven for the gourmand, if there ever was one. Saloons abound with their well patronized bars. Speakeasies and night clubs, from the high class Small's Paradise, featuring the latest in se- pian entertainment, where one can hear the lowest songs and parodies of the most vulgar extraction. Theatres presenting all Colored attractions, [[end column 1 of 2]] [[begin column 2 of 2]] with blaring signs advertising their offerings in en- tertainment. It is customary that whenever a Col- red actor takes a small part in a production show- ing, he or she becomes the featured attraction, the high-priced white star becoming a minor attraction. There are numerous theatres showing motion pictures exclusively, the lates in white production being shown to a public trying to find a black man's soul in a white civilization. Further downtown, there are theatres showing Spanish productions, with Spanish dialogue. These are supported by the Spanish groups, regardless of color. We have journeyed quite some distance from our original starting place to our present location, One Hundred and Thirty-First Street. we pass by what is known as the "Tree of Hope". The placque at it's base carries the following- lowing inscription, "Here tis, you asked for it," signed Bill Robinson. This particular tree has a superstition that traces itself back to the jungle and the worship of na- ture. To the Negro actor and actress of the old school, this tree is a Deity and good luck omen, to kiss the bark means to bring good luck and suc- cess in the theatre. With the younger generation, this means nothing, their answer, laughter and ri- dicule. We are now entering what is known as the sporting and nite-life district. The sidewalks, at this point, are crowded with people, actors and actresses, pimps, gigilos, con men, cut throats, number runners and dope addicts. This district abounds with dives and joints, where all the vices known to man can be satisfied. Hallways, dark and dreary, in and out of which, the inmates of these dives, slink and slither as they go about their nefarious and shady occupations. Basements and alleyways, leading who knows where, sometimes to death. In this district, the police work in pairs, walk- ing in the center of the street. Even they are not safe from the accidently dropped brick or ashcan. The evil doer slinking away across the roofs, dis- appearing in the darkness. The streets are abound with loose women who side up to each prospective patron, with careful, but conniving salutations. Woe unto him who steps into their carefully set snares. Procurers make themselves available to the uninitiated, offering their wares unashamed. Gambling houses operate with open doors. Contrary to the average opinion, the rattle of dice are seldom heard, the favorite games, being Twenty-one, Black-jack, or Coon-Can. The number lottery, with its branches bollitta, last figure, etc., is well supported daily. Betting on horse racing also gets a heavy play. We are now at 139th Street and 7th Avenue. Let us turn West into this street, where the well kept and beautiful homes, sheltered on both sides of this thoroughfare by stately trees, their abund- ant green foliage lending the quiet and contented atmosphere of a small town Main Street, remind us of a famous murder case. These beautiful examples of American architecture, designed by the victim, Stanford White, who was murdered by [[preprinted]] (Continue of page 17 [[/preprinted]] [[end column 2 of 2]]
