The Stories Behind the Music ©
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
February 4, 2024
Today is the time and the place to call upon the memories of the ancestors. Today we are hearing of heroes, and of giants. In the words of our author Qiyamah Rahman, “It is that time and place to remember those who came through the long night to witness another sunrise.”
From our place in 21st century America, it’s hard to imagine the roads traveled by Scott Joplin and by James Weldon Johnson, the lyricist of our closing hymn today – Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing. And so we tell old stories, so that we can try to imagine, to honor them, and to grow in compassion for all those walking along stony roads, trying to reach their potential; to become all that they can be.
Scott Joplin was born in 1868, not long after the end of the Civil War. There were six children in the family, and his father, who worked for the railroad, left them. Despite the severe hardship that resulted, the family was musical, and Scott was able to access opportunities to learn to play the piano, the guitar, and the mandolin. One person in particular made a big difference in Scott’s early life – a German-Jewish piano teacher named Julius Weiss, who had experienced anti-semitism in Germany before emigrating to the United States, and had compassion for this talented Black boy, and taught him for free for several years. As a teen, Scott formed local musical groups, and eventually, probably in his late teens, embarked on a life as a travelling musician. It was hard to find opportunities – most demand for Black piano players came from early roadside saloons and brothels.
A turning point for Joplin came at the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893. Black performers were not welcome at the Fair itself, but formed groups and bands in saloons nearby, and exposed many fairgoers to their music, including early jazz and ragtime. Music scholars posit that ragtime music caught on as a result of the exposure it gained at the World’s Fair, and by 1897 it was sweeping the country. Scott Joplin wasn’t the first to publish ragtime pieces, but he had a huge success with his Maple Leaf Rag which was published first sometime around 1897 or 1898. He was slow to receive much in the way of royalties, but eventually his earnings from this immensely popular rag provided basic financial support throughout most of his life.
Ragtime wasn’t enough for Joplin. He turned his attention to opera, and in his few remaining years devoted himself to composing and attempting to stage two full-length operas. The first, named A Guest of Honor, actually began touring around the country, but someone stole all the earnings, and left Joplin in debt for hotels and payroll. The score of the opera was lost, possibly taken for non-payment of bills and then destroyed.
To further his operatic ambitions, Joplin moved to New York City in 1907. It’s widely mentioned that he was already beginning to suffer the effects of syphilis. But he persevered in creating a second opera, known as Treemonisha. Racing against time due to his illness, he invited potential financial backers to a staging before it was really ready, and the audience walked out. He was left crushed, and bankrupt. About a year later, Joplin was committed to an asylum due to dementia, and died there in 1917 at the age of 48. He was buried in a pauper’s grave.
Scott Joplin believed that his music was ahead of its time. He told people that he would be unrecognized for 25 years, and then discovered for his later works. And as it turned out, he was right. Ragtime’s popularity gave way to jazz, but it began to enjoy a revival in the 1960’s. And then came The Sting, the Paul Newman movie in 1973 with its ragtime score that made Scott Joplin a household name again. Royalties paid for the development and performance of his opera, Treemonisha, which toured the country, including New York City.
Life is an unending journey. Perhaps, at the end of his remarkable life, having lost almost everything, Scott Joplin did retain some small hope that someday he would be truly seen for who he was. And indeed, that is what happened.
In contrast to Scott Joplin, Rosa Parks led a long life, dying at the age of 92. And she lived to be celebrated for her courage and her involvement in the Civil Rights movement, which continued after her move to Detroit for as long as she was able. She participated actively and also offered what financial contributions she could, even establishing an Institute for Self-Development offering mentoring programs for young people. Toward the end of her life she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom, as well as a Congressional Gold Medal. And she was one of the few non-elected officials to ever lie in honor at the U.S. Capitol. And yet she was forced to rely on charity. Life can be a long and complicated journey.
Back in 1962, President Kennedy welcomed Nobel Prize winners to a dinner at the White House, remarking, “I think this is the most extraordinary collection of talent, of human knowledge, that has ever been gathered together at the White House, with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone.” https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/remarks-dinner-honoring-nobel-prize-winners-the-western-hemisphere
But there is another person who might have matched Thomas Jefferson for intellectual breadth and depth that President Kennedy forgot about, possibly because he was a man of color. That man was James Weldon Johnson, the author of the lyrics to our closing hymn this morning, Lift Every Voice and Sing. It’s possible that President Kennedy had never heard of him.
It’s fun to read a description of James Johnson: he is described as the first Black person to pass the bar in Florida, and as a novelist, poet, diplomat, songwriter, NAACP official, and the first Black professor at New York University. His brother, John Rosamond Johnson, became a composer, and in fact, wrote the tune for Lift Every Voice and Sing.
The Johnsons were somewhat more advantaged than Scott Joplin or Rosa Parks. Their father was a black preacher and a headwaiter at a luxury hotel. Their mother was a teacher and a musician, who taught her sons starting at a young age. Johnson made his way to Atlanta University, an historically black university, graduating with the understanding that he would use his education to further the opportunities for other Black people following him. After college he returned to teaching at his own segregated former school in Jacksonville, and managed at the same time to study and pass the bar. He and his brother joined the Great Migration at the beginning of the 20th century and moved to New York, where they began their careers as songwriters. In 1904, however, Johnson met Theodore Roosevelt and worked on his campaign for president. As a result he was appointed as the U.S. Consul in first Venezuela, and then in Nicaragua. Upon his return to New York, he immersed himself in the Harlem Renaissance and became a leading voice, writing prose and poetry.
In 1916 Johnson became a leader in the NAACP. It was an era of lynchings and violent race riots, and Johnson was active in creating local chapters of the NAACP and opposing the race hatred sweeping the country. In 1917, he helped to organize a silent parade in New York City, when somewhere between 8 – 15,000 Black Americans marched in silence down Fifth Avenue to protest the recent horrific race riot that had taken place in East St. Louis. Muffled drums were the only sound as people marched, and the parade garnered empathy from the spectators and respect for the NAACP as Black boy scouts handed out fliers explaining the reasons for the march. Other cities followed suit.
Like so much African American history, the Silent Parade was forgotten and enveloped in silence itself as the years went on. Interestingly, it wasn’t until Google commemorated it as its Google Doodle on the 100th anniversary in 2017, that the protest was brought back to light.
In 1930 Johnson returned to academia, with professorships at Fisk University in Nashville, as well as at New York University, and continued his writing.
James Weldon Johnson’s life was cut tragically short in an accident; in 1938 while vacationing in Wiscassset, Maine, the car his wife was driving was struck by a train. We can only imagine what else he might have accomplished had he lived longer. Perhaps he would have been invited to dinner at the White House.
While not as well known to the public today as Rosa Parks or Scott Joplin, James Johnson’s name continues to shine: a school, a library, and a park are named for him in Jacksonville, and Emory University in Atlanta has a James Weldon Johnson Institute for the Study of Race and Difference. He was depicted on a postage stamp in 1988. Yet most of us know him only as the author of the words that we will sing in a few moments. His towering intellect and many achievements deserve to be known everywhere as a source of inspiration for all Americans: an inspiration and a reminder of what people can become when opportunities are available.
My friends, we should leave here today inspired by the lives of three exceptional Americans and all that they accomplished. May it inspire us to find ways to smooth the road for those coming along, the many who still are confronted with too many obstacles, too heavy burdens. Who knows where some help along the road can lead?
Blessed be,
Amen.
