Wanamaker's at Astor Place, 1920s |
In 1928, about 300,000 black people resided in New York City and 250 of them were employees of
the department store known as Wanamaker’s.
Founded by
John Wanamaker in Philadelphia in 1876, the same year as the nation’s
centennial, the store employed African-Americans through Reconstruction and
into the Jim Crow era. Wanamaker’s
devout Christianity led him to believe in racial equality – to the extent that
the times permitted.
John Wanamaker |
The brilliant
entrepreneur was also influenced by his friend Robert Curtis Ogden, who joined
Wanamaker’s soon after it opened and conceived of the store’s innovative
advertising and marketing schemes.
Robert C.
Ogden had been committed to the education of black Americans since 1874, when
he joined the board of the Hampton Institute.
The Institute, established after the Civil War as a teachers’ training
school, provided agricultural and industrial education – although little in the
way of academics – to freed slaves. *
Nature study brochure Hampton Institute, 1908 |
In 1896,
Ogden moved from Philadelphia to New York City to manage a new branch of
Wanamaker’s located downtown near Astor Place.
There he
drew admiration from black employees who soon formed the Robert Curtis Ogden
Association of the John Wanamaker Store.
Its purpose was to celebrate the achievements of the store’s black
employees; for example, the association awarded annual prizes for achievement
in musical composition and performance.
In 1905
Wanamaker and Ogden addressed the National Negro Business League, founded by the educator Booker T. Washington to support black-owned businesses. Their remarks received flattering reviews in
the New York Age, one of the nation’s foremost African-American
newspapers.
Robert Curtis Ogden |
But
contemporary scholars note that the speeches were patronizing and that both men
denied the existence of systematic racism.
Further, it is now evident that Wanamaker’s nonwhite employees were rarely
promoted. They remained in menial jobs behind the scenes with the exception of
elevator operators.
However, the
store’s employment practices were tolerant compared to other businesses.
After World
War I, for example, white veterans lobbied the Fifth Avenue department stores to
fire black elevator operators and give them the jobs instead. Saks and Best & Co. obliged but
Wanamaker’s and Bloomingdale’s did not buckle.
One could
argue that Wanamaker and Ogden were racists, yet they rose above the shameful standards of the day.
John
Wanamaker died in 1922, by which time his son Rodman had complete control of
the company. While Rodman’s three
passions were music, aviation, and American Indian culture, he continued the
work of the Ogden Association and the store’s relatively liberal hiring policy.
Everything
changed when Rodman Wanamaker died in March 1928 and a glad-hander named Grover
Whalen, a longtime store employee who had been one of Rodman’s assistants,
stepped into the top position.
Perpetually
doffing a homburg hat, Whalen dabbled in everything: politics, public
relations, ceremonies. He did have some
good ideas such as the creation of WNYC, the city’s radio station. Also, he was a fabulous greeter of General
Pershing, Charles A. Lindbergh, and numerous famous people who visited New
York.
But he
wasn’t great for Wanamaker’s. Just a few
months after Whalen stepped in, the New York Age ran a front-page story about a change in the store's longstanding policy.
It turned
out that a white woman customer had observed employees eating together
in the integrated company cafeteria and complained to management. Whalen immediately issued an order to segregate the lunchroom. In protest,
black employees began eating in local restaurants rather than in the cafeteria, but Whalen remained unbowed.
Fortunately,
or unfortunately, Grover Whalen could not resist the call of City Hall. Within a few months he was gone from
Wanamaker’s, having accepted the job of Police Commissioner offered to him by
playboy Mayor Jimmy Walker.
“There is
plenty of law at the end of a nightstick,” declared Whalen. Communists and bootleggers counted among his
many targets.
Over time, Whalen’s
views on race might have evolved. But
they did not.
In his autobiography,
Adam Clayton Powell, Jr., the first black member of the U.S. House of
Representatives, recalled visiting Whalen around 1935 just after the former
police commissioner had been named chair of the New York World’s Fair
Corporation. The fair would open in
1939.
We went
to ask him for employment for qualified Negro people. He offered us token jobs. We refused them. The slogan of the fair was “Building the
World of Tomorrow,” and I can remember telling Grover Whalen: “You cannot have
a World of Tomorrow from which you have excluded colored people.”
Mr.
Whalen, suave and urbane, smiled beneath his carefully trimmed mustache and
said, “I do not see why the world of today or tomorrow of necessity has to have
colored people playing an important role.”
“A loss
shared by all New Yorkers,” came the cry when Whalen died in 1962. Even though the language is boilerplate, it’s
still hard to choke down.
Grover Whalen (second from left) greets Charles Lindbergh (facing camera) at the Manhattan Bridge in June 1927 |
*The Hampton
Institute (now Hampton University in Hampton, VA) and the Tuskegee Institute (now
Tuskegee University in Alabama) were denounced in some quarters for providing
what critics considered the equivalent of a grammar-school education.
https://www.throughthehourglass.com/2020/02/wanamaker-ogden-whalen-powell-story.html
My mom loved going to "Johnny Wannamaker's" to shop at Cross county in Yonkers. I loved the way she made it sound like they were friends. This is another great story. It's good to learn these details behind the plight of the African American family. The civil rights movement in the 60's was nothing short of miraculous. I hope you keep the blog up for many years to come.
ReplyDeleteUnsurprisingly, like my sister I remember the way my mother used to say "Johnny Wanamaker" with her French accent. It was one of her favorite stores.
ReplyDeleteAlso funny is how rarely we went father than Cross County. "Lost in Yonkers" is such an apt movie/play title, because I indeed got lost every single time I tried to get out of there.
I'm thinking "The Racist History of New York" is a really good book idea as well. Probably is the title of a dissertation.