There's a group of poems in here that deal
with the African-American soldiers
who fought in World War I. And these soldiers what they do
is really quite odd.
It's really quite ironic how they
came to fight in the war to end all wars.
A war that was supposed to make the world safe for democracy.
It turned out that many Black men did enlist in the army
and they wanted to fight when America finally
did join the war.
Later, however, they were not sent overseas
because the United States Army was segregated.
And the armed forces, the people in charge,
couldn't figure out, heaven forbid,
that these black soldiers should fight side by side
with the white soldiers.
And so, these soldiers actually just languished here in camps
until the French said, well, if you don't want them
we'll certainly take them.
What happened then was that several regiments
of black soldiers were put under French command
during World War I. And they fought
in uniforms which were motley of both American and French
nations.
They distinguished themselves in combat.
Got an amazing number of awards, French awards, for valor.
They were the first to reach the Rhein in 1918.
And they did something else that was very cool.
They brought jazz to Europe because one of the regiments
was headed by a man named Lieutenant James Reese Europe.
Another irony.
That a black man's name is Europe,
but he had been a band leader before the war.
And when America did join forces with the allies,
he was asked to put together a military band
and provide entertainment.
And to also act in that, kind of, diplomatic role.
So they played jazz and all throughout Europe.
I'll read you two poems from this group.
Neither of which take place during the war itself,
during the war when America was in it.
The first one-- they both spoke about James Reese Europe.
The first one takes place in 1915
in New York City, right before--
well before America joined the war
but the war was certainly going on.
James Reese Europe's Society Orchestra
used to play for Vernon and Irene Castle's dinner dances.
And Vernon and Irene Castle were this [INAUDIBLE] couple.
They won a lot of dancing, partner dancing, to people
and taught them.
They, basically, taught a lot of English elite whites
in New York City how to dance.
And they had a dance called the Castle Walk.
Now this dance was, as far as I could make out
from old descriptions of--
was really a little more than a, kind of,
what Morticia and Gomez--
[LAUGHTER]
--thing.
It was, kind of, put your cheeks together and go.
So you have James Reese Europe playing these wonderful rag
times to a group of people who really don't
know how to appreciate them.
"The Castle Walk" You can't accuse this group
of having too much muster.
Their glove, their button tighter than buddy
snare drum but their pink so we pay them back.
Pour on the violins, insinuate a cello,
lay some grizzly piano under that sweet jelly roll.
Our boys got a snap and buzz no one dancing
in this gauze and tinsel showroom knows how to hear.
The couple stroll past counting to themselves as they orbit.
Chins down as if expecting a kiss or in need of a shave.
We pinch and surge through each ragtime.
And I swear it's both luck and hardship, the way
the music slips as it burns.
These white folks stomp through privilege
just like they dance, one, two, stop, pose over and over.
We ain't nobody special, but at least we know it.
Across the Black Atlantic, their trampling
up the map into a crazy quilt of rage and honor.
Here, the biggest news going would be Irene and Vernon
teaching the Castle Walk.
Trot on, Irene.
Vernon, fake that juke joint slide.
So boys, lay down tracks.
The old world's torched [INAUDIBLE]
buy the string as far as it's going.
Let's kick it.
Time for the [INAUDIBLE] Buddy it's set in motion
and you Mr cricket Smith mortified
with your [INAUDIBLE] molten silver moon.