The Streckfus Steam Boats were owned by four brothers, Vern, Roy, Johnny and Joe. Captain Joe was the oldest, and he was the big boss. There was no doubt about that. All of the brothers were fine fellows and they all treated me swell. At first I had the feeling that everybody was afraid of the big chief, Captain Joe. I had heard so much about how mean Captain Joe was that I could hardly blow my horn the first time I played on the steamer Sydney, but he soon put me at ease. But he did insist that everyone attend strictly to his business. When we heard he was coming on board everybody including the musicians would pitch in and make the boat spic and span. He loved our music; as he stood behind us at the bandstand he would smile and chuckle while he watched us swing, and he would order special tunes from us. We almost overdid it, trying to please him.
Captain Joe got the biggest boot out of Baby Dodds, our drummer, who used to shimmy while he beat the rim shots on his drum. Lots of times the whole boat would stop to watch him. Even after I stopped working on his boat Captain Joe used to bring his wife and family to hear me play my trumpet.
Captain Vern reminded me, smile and all, of my favorite movie comedian, Stan Laurel. At our very first meeting he gave me such a warm smile that I felt I had known him all my life. That feeling lasted as long as I was on that boat. Lots of people made a good living working on the boats of the Streckfus Line.
My last week in New Orleans while we were getting ready to go up river to Saint Louis I met a fine young white boy named Jack Teagarden. He came to New Orleans from Houston, Texas, where he had played in a band led by Peck Kelly. The first time I heard Jack Teagarden on the trombone I had goose pimples all over; in all my experience I had never heard anything so fine. Jack met all the boys in my band. Of course he met Captain Joe as well, for Captain Joe was a great music lover and he wanted to meet every good musician and have him play on one of his boats. Some of the finest white bands anyone could ever want to hear graced his bandstands, as well as the very best colored musicians. I did not see Jack Teagarden for a number of years after that first meeting, but I never ceased hearing about him and his horn and about the way he was improving all the time. We have been musically jammed buddies ever since we met.
Finally everything was set for me to leave my dear home town and travel up and down the lazy Mississippi River blowing my little old cornet from town to town. Fate Marable's Band deserves credit for breaking down a few barriers on the Mississippi – barriers set up by Jim Crow. We were the first colored band to play most of the towns at which we stopped, particularly the smaller ones. The ofays were not used to seeing colored boys blowing horns and making fine music for them to dance by. At first we ran into some ugly experiences while we were on the bandstand, and we had to listen to plenty of nasty remarks. But most of us were from the South anyway. We were used to that kind of jive, and we would just keep on swinging as though nothing had happened. Before the evening was over they loved us. We couldn't turn for them singing our praises and begging us to hurry back.
I will never forget the day I left New Orleans by train for Saint Louis to join the steamer Saint Paul. It was the first time in my life I had ever made a long trip by railroad. I had no idea as to what I should take, and my wife and mother did not either. For my lunch Mayann went to Prat's Creole Restaurant and bought me a great big fish sandwich and a bottle of green olives. David Jones, the melophone player in the band, took the same train with me. He was one of those erect guys who thought he knew everything. He could see that I was inexperienced, but he did not do anything to make the trip pleasant for me. He was older than I, and he had been traveling for years in road shows and circuses while I was in short pants.
When we arrived at Galesburg, Illinois, to change trains, my arms were full of all the junk I had brought with me. In addition to my cornet I had a beat-up suitcase which looked as though it had been stored away since Washington crossed the Delaware. In this grip (that's what we called a suitcase in those days) Mayann had packed all my clothes which I had kept at her house because Daisy and I quarrelled so much. The suitcase was so full there was not room for the big bottle of olives. I had to carry the fish sandwich and olives in one arm and the cornet and suitcase in the other. What a trip that was!
The conductor came through the train hollering: "All out for Galesburg." He followed this with a lot of names which did not faze me a bit, but when he said, "Change trains for Saint Louis," my ears pricked up like a jackass.
When I grabbed all my things I was so excited that I loosened the top of my olive bottle, but somehow I managed to reach the platform with my arms full. The station was crowded with people rushing in all directions. David Jones had had orders to look out for me, but he didn't. He was bored to tears. He acted as though I was just another colored boy he did not even know. That is the impression he tried to give people in the station. All of a sudden a big train came around the bend at what seemed to me a mile a minute. In the rush to get seats somebody bumped into me and knocked the olives out of my arm. The jar broke into a hundred pieces and the olives rolled all over the platform. David Jones immediately walked away and did not even turn around. I felt pretty bad about those good olives, but when I finally got on the train I was still holding my fish sandwich. Yes sir, I at least managed to keep that.
By this time I was getting kind of warm about Br'er Jones, and I went right up to him and told him off. I told him he put on too many airs and plenty more. And I did not say a word to him all the way to Saint Louis. There the laugh was on him. It was real cold and he was wearing an overcoat and a straw hat. When I heard the people roar with laughter as they saw David Jones get off the train I just laid right down on the ground and almost laughed myself to death. But his embarrassment was far worse than mine had been, and I finally began to feel sorry for him. He was a man of great experience and he should have known better. He could not get angry with me for laughing at him considering how he had treated me. Later on we became good friends, and that is when he started helping me out reading music.
The first night I arrived I was amazed by Saint Louis and its tall buildings. There was nothing like that in my home town, and I could not imagine what they were all for. I wanted to ask someone badly, but I was afraid I would be kidded for being so dumb. Finally, when we were going back to our hotel I got up enough courage to question Fate Marable.
"What are all those tall buildings? Colleges?"
"Aw boy," Fate answered, "don't be so damn dumb."
Then I realized I should have followed my first hunch and kept my mouth shut.
chapter 12
As the days rolled on I commenced getting hep to the jive. I learned a good deal about life and people as I shot dice with the waiters, the deck hands, the musicians and anybody else who gambled. Sometimes after we left the bandstand we would gamble all night and even up to the following night. Lots of times I would win, but most of the time I lost. Those waiters were old hustlers from 'way back, and so were the deck hands and musicians. Like everybody else I hated to lose, but since I was not used to having a whole lot of money – or even any money much of the time – I did not take my losses so hard as some of the more experienced fellows.
When we collected our pay I did not know what to buy so I bought a lot of cheap jive at the five and ten cents store to give to the kids in my neighborhood when I got back to New Orleans. I did not have to worry about Daisy and my mother because they both had good jobs. My sister Beatrice was down in Florida with her husband working on some kind of saw mill job, and I did not have to send her anything either. So I ran from one salary to another spending money like water. I was the happiest kid musician in the world.