Monday, February 13, 2017

Everthing you wanted to know about the "Zoot Suit" created in Chicago by Harold C. Fox, and the National Zoot suit riots.


In historical writing and analysis, PRESENTISM introduces present-day ideas and perspectives into depictions or interpretations of the past. Presentism is a form of cultural bias that creates a distorted understanding of the subject matter. Reading modern notions of morality into the past is committing the error of presentism. Historical accounts are written by people and can be slanted, so I try my hardest to present fact-based and well-researched articles.

Facts don't require one's approval or acceptance.

I present [PG-13] articles without regard to race, color, political party, or religious beliefs, including Atheism, national origin, citizenship status, gender, LGBTQ+ status, disability, military status, or educational level. What I present are facts — NOT Alternative Facts — about the subject. You won't find articles or readers' comments that spread rumors, lies, hateful statements, and people instigating arguments or fights.

FOR HISTORICAL CLARITY
When I write about the INDIGENOUS PEOPLE, I follow this historical terminology:
  • The use of old commonly used terms, disrespectful today, i.e., REDMAN or REDMEN, SAVAGES, and HALF-BREED are explained in this article.
Writing about AFRICAN-AMERICAN history, I follow these race terms:
  • "NEGRO" was the term used until the mid-1960s.
  • "BLACK" started being used in the mid-1960s.
  • "AFRICAN-AMERICAN" [Afro-American] began usage in the late 1980s.

— PLEASE PRACTICE HISTORICISM 
THE INTERPRETATION OF THE PAST IN ITS OWN CONTEXT.
 


As a child, Harold C. Fox had studied to be a violinist. He got a job with a string group in a Chicago restaurant. When the Century of Progress World's Fair opened in 1933, the restaurant manager decided to change the sweet sound of Fox's combo to something brasher and brassier. Violins were out; trumpets were in.

Fox had never played the trumpet before, but this was the Depression, and one could not afford to let a good job slip away.

"Somehow, I learned enough to fake my way through the season," Fox said. "I could only play in one key, A-flat, because that was the key that required the least amount of fingering. I could play loud, and I could play hot, but I never was a great musician."

When the fair closed, Fox got an offer to play with another combo in New York. But by the time he arrived with his wife, Marie, and daughter, the deal had fallen through. Eventually, Fox managed to hitch up with a group called the Chick Winters Band. That opened some more doors, and Fox was invited to play his trumpet over New York`s WNEW radio station.

All the while, Fox was staying in touch with his father, who owned a woolen wholesaling house back in Chicago. His father would send him sample bolts of cloth, and Fox would design wild suits and band uniforms for his musician friends. Fox got the idea for the Zoot suit in New York but didn't put it into production until 1939, when he moved back to Chicago to take over the family business with his brother, Aaron.

The Zoot suit is the most innovative men’s garment of the twentieth century. Its knee-length jacket featured exaggerated padded shoulders, and the voluminous, high-waisted pants narrowed to a pegged ankle.

Harold C. Fox



When the Zoot suit emerged, it was a radical departure from typical men’s suits which had changed little in nearly a century. Fox sold the first Zoot suit in Chicago in 1939. 
Fox came up with the name "Zoot Suit" by borrowing from the distinctive street jargon of the day.

"It was cool in those days to talk in rhymes," Fox said. "In those days, the highest compliment you could pay someone or something was to say it was 'the end to end all ends.' I needed a word to rhyme with the word 'Suit,' so I used the letter of the alphabet that is the end to end all ends - 'Z' - and came up with ZOOT."

Fox even invented the most distinctive accessory to the Zoot suit, the long, looping watch chain worn dangled from a trouser pocket.

"Our clothing store, Fox Brothers, had a commode you flushed by pulling on a chain," Fox recalled. "One day, I flushed the toilet, and the chain came off in my hand. For some reason, I took the chain with me when I went out into the showroom to phone a plumber." A commodious chain.

"Some cat was getting fitted for a Zoot suit, and he asked me if I had any accessories to go with the suit. Just on impulse, I hooked one end of the chain to his pants and put the other in his pocket. Bingo! He thought it was terrific, and pretty soon, everybody who came in for a Zoot suit had to have a chain."The Zoot suit was one of the Fox Brothers' first designs, and almost instantly the clothing house found itself among the avant-garde of American fashion.
Fox came up with endless variations to the Zoot suit, then branched out. He takes credit for popularizing padded shoulders, polka-dot shirts, be-bop berets (adorned with an upright toothpick), the cape-back Casablanca-style trench coat, and something he calls the double-single-breasted jacket.

Word spread and Harold Fox was soon the clothier of the stars. Dizzy Gillespie shopped there, and so did Charlie "Bird" Parker. Woody Herman and Stan Kenton were regulars. So were Sarah Vaughan, Lionel Hampton, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Nat "King" Cole, Miles Davis, Billie Holiday, Earl Hines, and Scatman Crothers.
Fox was the leader of the Jimmy Dale Orchestra when he took over his family’s tailoring business in 1941. He reputedly traded suits for musical arrangements made by the popular jazz musicians who frequently played in Chicago and sported the extreme style. In addition to jazz musicians, urban blacks and Latinos were the primary wearers of the style.
Fox Brothers were also the clothier of choice for Chicago's leading mobsters and panderers.
Joel Daley, Bill Frink, and John Coleman at the Balaban and Katz "B&K" Uptown Theater, Chicago.





A Zoot Suit with a Reet Pleat [1942]
Dorothy Dandridge & Paul White

The Zoot suit was regarded as fashionable by some and as rebellious and unpatriotic by others. Its popularity coincided with World War II. Rationing during the war led to clothing restrictions for U.S. citizens. To some people, the copious amounts of fabric required to construct a Zoot suit constituted open defiance of the American war effort.


THE STORY OF THE ZOOT SUIT RIOTS
The Zoot Suit Riots were a series of violent clashes during which mobs of U.S. servicemen, off-duty police officers and civilians brawled with young Latinos and other minorities in Los Angeles. The June 1943 riots took their name from the baggy suits worn by many minority youths during that era, but the violence was more about racial tension than fashion. The Zoot suit garnered a racist reputation. In California, Latino, known as “pachucos” (male members of a counterculture associated with Zoot suit fashion, jazz and swing music), often wore flashy, brightly colored Zoot suits, porkpie hats and long dangling watch chains, were increasingly viewed by affluent whites as menacing street thugs, gang members and rebellious juvenile delinquents.
 
Pork Pie Hat
Wartime patriotism didn’t help matters: After the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and the U.S. entry into World War II, wool and other textiles were subject to strict rationing. The U.S. War Production Board regulated the production of civilian clothing containing silk, wool and other essential fabrics. Despite these wartime restrictions, many bootleg tailors in Los Angeles, Chicago, New York and elsewhere continued to make the popular Zoot suits, which used profligate amounts of fabric. Servicemen and many other people, however, saw the oversized suits a flagrant and unpatriotic waste of resources.

The local media was only too happy to fan the flames of racism and moral outrage: On June 2, 1943, the Los Angeles Times reported: “Fresh in the memory of Los Angeles is last year’s surge of gang violence that made the ‘Zoot suit’ a badge of delinquency. Public indignation seethed as warfare among organized bands of marauders, prowling the streets at night, brought a wave of assaults, and finally murders.”


In the summer of 1943, tensions ran high between Zoot-suiters and the large contingent of white sailors, soldiers and Marines stationed in and around Los Angeles. Mexican Americans were serving in the military in high numbers, but many servicemen viewed the Zoot-suit wearers as World War II draft dodgers (though many were in fact too young to serve in the military).

On May 31, a clash between uniformed servicemen and Mexican American youths resulted in the beating of a U.S. sailor. Partly in retaliation, on the evening of June 3, about 50 sailors from the local U.S. Naval Reserve Armory marched through downtown Los Angeles carrying clubs and other crude weapons, attacking anyone seen wearing a Zoot suit or other racially identified clothing.
In the days that followed, the racially charged atmosphere in Los Angeles exploded in a number of full-scale riots. Mobs of U.S. servicemen took to the streets and began attacking Latinos and stripping them of their suits, leaving them bloodied and half-naked on the sidewalk. Local police officers often watched from the sidelines, then arrested the victims of the beatings. 
Zoot suiters lined up outside Los Angeles jail en route
to court after a feud with sailors in 1943.
Thousands more servicemen, off-duty police officers and civilians joined the fray over the next several days, marching into cafes and movie theaters and beating anyone wearing Zoot-suit clothing or hairstyles (duck-tail haircuts were a favorite target and were often cut off). Negroes and Filipinos — even those not clad in Zoot suits — were also attacked.

By June 7, the rioting had spread outside downtown Los Angeles to Watts, East Los Angeles and other neighborhoods. Taxi drivers offered free rides to servicemen to rioting areas, and thousands of military personnel and civilians from San Diego and other parts of Southern California converged on Los Angeles to join the mayhem.

Leaders of the Mexican American community implored state and local officials to intervene — The Council for Latin American Youth even sent a telegram to President Franklin D. Roosevelt — but their pleas met with little action. One eyewitness, writer Carey McWilliams, painted a terrifying picture:

“On Monday evening, June seventh, thousands of Angelenos turned out for a mass lynching. Marching through the streets of downtown Los Angeles, a mob of several thousand soldiers, sailors, and civilians, proceeded to beat up every Zoot-suiter they could find. Street cars were halted while Mexicans, and some Filipinos and Negroes, were jerked out of their seats, pushed into the streets, and beaten with sadistic frenzy.”

Some of the most disturbing violence was clearly racist in nature: According to several reports, a black defense plant worker — still wearing his defense-plant identification badge — was yanked off a streetcar, after which one of his eyes was gouged out with a knife.

Local papers framed the racial attacks as a vigilante response to an immigrant crime wave, and police generally restricted their arrests to the Latinos who fought back. The riots didn’t die down until June 8, when U.S. military personnel were finally barred from leaving their barracks.

The Los Angeles City Council issued a ban on Zoot suits the following day. Amazingly, no one was killed during the weeklong riot, but it wasn’t the last outburst of Zoot suit-related racial violence. Similar incidents took place that same year in cities such as Philadelphia, Chicago and Detroit.

A Citizens’ Committee appointed by California Governor Earl Warren to investigate the Zoot Suit Riots convened in the weeks after the riot. The committee’s report found that, “In undertaking to deal with the cause of these outbreaks, the existence of race prejudice cannot be ignored.”

Additionally, the committee described the problem of juvenile delinquency youth as “one of American youth, not confined to any racial group. The wearers of Zoot suits are not necessarily persons of Mexican descent, criminals or juveniles.
Cherry Poppin' Daddies
"Zoot Suit Riot" (original video 1997)

"It was okay with me," Fox said of the end of the fad. "I was sick of Zoots by that time anyway."

Merriam-Webster [Dictionary] Company accepted Mr. Fox's claim to the name "Zoot Suit."

The initial fad of Zoot suits was short-lived, but the 1990s witnessed a resurgence in the popularity of swing dancing and the Zoot suit. In an effort to embody the spirit of the 1940s, many dancers dressed in vintage clothing which helped bring back the Zoot suit. Soon, the fad expanded to dressier occasions such as high school proms. Several tailors throughout the country began offering custom-made Zoot suits. Fox, who died in 1996, continued wearing the fashion throughout his life and was buried in a lavender Zoot Suit. 

The Fox Brothers Custom Tailors at 556 West Roosevelt Road, Chicago, Illinois, is still open for business. 

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Horse drinking from a fountain which stood at LaSalle and Monroe Streets, Chicago, Illinois. circa 1911

At the 1874 organizing convention of the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union, the members were urged to erect drinking fountains in their towns so that men could get a drink of water without entering saloons and staying for stronger drinks. Often the drinking fountains that were erected offered a place for horses to drink, another place for dogs, and of course, a place for humans to drink.
Horse drinking from a fountain which stood at
LaSalle and Monroe Streets, Chicago, Illinois. circa 1911

In 1876, Thomas Hoyne and Harvey Doolittle Colvin were both Chicago Mayors at the same time.

Thomas Hoyne
Thousands of Chicagoans live on Hoyne Avenue, yet few know much about the man it was named after. Thomas Hoyne was a schoolteacher, a lawyer, Chicago’s third City Clerk, the first president of the Chicago Public Library’s Board of Directors, a U.S. Marshall, and holder of numerous other public offices.

He is perhaps most famous for what he wasn’t. On April 16, 1876, he was elected mayor of the City of Chicago. He took the oath of office on May 9 and attempted to act as mayor. The City Council and some city department heads accepted him. Other departments claimed that the election was invalid. Harvey Doolittle Colvin still claimed to be mayor since the election was not called by either the City Council or the mayor.

During 28 tumultuous days in 1876, Chicago had two men claiming to be mayor. Chicago adopted the Illinois Cities and Villages Act in 1875. The Act changed the date of the mayoral elections and extended the term of Harvey Colvin, the current mayor. Thomas Hoyne was nominated in a mass meeting and subsequently won an April 16, 1876 election. Colvin claimed the election was illegal and that he was entitled to serve for another year.

Harvey Doolittle Colvin
The City Council and most city departments accepted Hoyne as mayor. However, the Comptroller and the Police Department did not, and continued to support Colvin. During May and June, the Police Department guarded the Mayor’s office against Hoyne’s supporters. Hoyne with the support of the City Council fired Colvin’s supporters and appointed his own. Both mayors offered to resign but didn’t.

The impasse was resolved by the June 5 ruling of the Cook County Circuit Court that the April election was illegal--meaning that Thomas Hoyne had never legally been mayor. Monroe Heath was elected mayor July 12th, nearly bringing the saga to an end.

However, in August, after Heath took office, the city attorney was asked if Hoyne and the department heads he appointed should be paid. The city attorney issued an opinion stating that although Hoyne was never mayor de jure, he had been mayor de facto, and thus he and his appointees should be paid.

Thomas Hoyne continued to be active in public affairs until his death in a train crash on July 28, 1883, in Carlyon, New York. He is buried in Rosehill Cemetery, Chicago, Illinois.


THE CARLYON TRAIN WRECK: 
ITEM IN THE NEW YORK TIMES, JULY 29, 1883

A BAD RAILWAY WRECK.

A SCORE OF PERSONS KILLED AND MANY WOUNDED.

THE STEAM-BOAT EXPRESS ON THE ROME, WATERTOWN, AND OGDENSBURG DASHED TO PIECES — THOMAS HOYNE KILLED.

Rochester, N.Y., July 28, 1883. — The Rome, Watertown, and Ogdensburg Railroad, heretofore so free from disastrous accidents, has at last met with one which has cost dearly in life and property. The news received has been very meager all day, and the morning papers here published the most scanty details of one of the worst accidents which has occurred since the Spuyten Duyvil disaster. The accident occurred at the flag station on the Oswego and Niagara Falls Division of the road known as Carylon, 30 miles west of Charlotte, and almost directly north of the village of Albion, on the Falls Branch of the Central Railroad. The train was the steam-boat express, which runs regularly between Niagara Falls and Cape Vincent, and frequently draws from seven to 10 sleeping cars, filled with Thousand Islands excursionists from the West. Last night it consisted of eight sleeping cars, one regular coach, a smoking car, and a baggage car, and was drawn by two locomotives, engines Nos. 61 and 51.

A terrible gale was blowing, and rain was falling in torrents. The train was running at the rate of 35 or 40 miles an hour. It was not marked to stop at Carylon, and there was no one to warn the engineer of any danger. A boxcar had been left on the siding, and this car was started by the wind and blown down and upon the main track, so that it stood upon an angle, half on and half off the track. The express train struck this car and the terrible wreck which followed was the result. The crash was heard by persons living near, above the storm, and they rushed out of doors to behold nothing, but hear groans and cries for help. The front-engine was flung from the track on the north side, while the one following left the rails on the south side, and, turning around parallel with the train, literally made a somersault, landing in the ditch with its trucks in the air, with escaping volumes of smoke and steam coming from it. The baggage car was jerked after it and tossed as if only the tail of a kite on top of the locomotive. The smoking car, which followed, was torn from the rails and dashed into a thousand splinters. The scene was indescribable. The first sleeper kept on the track, although it was hurled from the trucks, and the sides and ends were smashed in. It was completely flattened out. The second sleeper was telescoped half upon it and left its trucks and the track. The third left its forward trucks and mounted the wreck, but stood on its rear trucks and was not demolished.

Under and around the wreck could be seen heads and arms, and men and women were calling for help in most piteous accents. For a wonder, the engineer and fireman of the pilot engine were not seriously injured. Their companions on the following engine did not fare so well. Engineer McCarthy, one of the best on the road, was terribly scalded, and his death was a question of only a few hours. Fireman Lucius France was instantly killed, his body being scarcely recognizable. W. H. Chauncey, the trainmaster of the road, sat upon the fireman's side of the engine and is among the injured, but notwithstanding his wounds, he superintended the work of rescuing the victims.
This picture, taken the morning after the accident occurred, shows the crowds gathered at the wreckage. Nearby residents assisted in pulling wounded passengers from the wreckage and removed the corpses to a designated area, into the early morning.
A wrecking gang was at once sent out from Oswego, and also from Lewiston, and the work was commenced of getting out the killed and wounded. Surgeons were sent from Oswego, and also from Rochester. The list of the dead, so far as known this evening, is as follows:

THE KILLED.
  1. Lucius France, fireman, Oswego.
  2. James McCarthy, engineer, Oswego.
  3. _______ Sill, colored porter, Watertown.
  4. Mr. Thorp, residence unknown.
  5. Archie Tyler, baggageman, Watertown.
  6. Prof. C. W. Stone, Battle Creek, Mich.
  7. Thomas Dickson, No. 249 Pearl-street, Cleveland.
  8. Thomas Hoyne, Chicago.
  9. Mrs. Worthy, Saline, Mich.
  10. Henry McCormick, Benton, Mich.
  11. Dr. Schenck, Oberlin, Ohio.
  12. Willie Lefever, Bay City, Mich.
  13. O. B. Troop, Schoharie.
  14. Bernard Bostwick, Toledo, Ohio.
  15. Mrs. Jane E. Carl, Lansing, Mich.
  16. _______ Cromb, residence unknown.
  17. _______ Adams, Chicago.
  18. _______ Dower, Lansing, Mich.
  19. Unknown, young lady, of Leslie, Mich.
  20. Mary Troop, daughter of O. B. Troop.
  21. Louis J. Booth, No. 1,108 Pine-street, Philadelphia.
  22. Mrs. Louis J. Booth.
Those of the injured who could travel were placed in a sleeper and taken to the Falls, while the rest were taken to the neighboring houses and cared for. One man, who lives only a few rods from the wreck, had driven his son to Lyndonville, a distance of three miles, to take the train and got home just in time to find him a corpse. The work of removing the débris is being pushed forward rapidly, and the track will be cleared in a few hours.

There are about 50 persons injured, some of whom will die. There were about 270 people on the train. The list of wounded is as follows, as far as ascertained at this hour:

W. H. Chauncey, Oswego; bruised.
W. E. Rockfellow; leg broken.
Mr. Aiken and his wife, Sarnia.

The conductor on the train was E. Garrison. He was in the fourth car, but when he heard the signal he ran back to the car to set the brake, and, seeing the car breaking up, he jumped and saved himself. This afternoon a special train arrived at Charlotte with 12 bodies from Carylon. During the afternoon the Coroner of Orleans County impaneled a jury and commenced the inquest. The station agent at Carylon states that he set the brake when he left the car on the siding, and he is of the opinion that the car was pushed to the junction with the main track by some maliciously inclined persons.


Chicago, July 28, 1883. — Thomas Hoyne, who was killed by the accident at Carlyon Station last night, was born in New‑York City and came West in 1835. He lived in Galena for two years and then came to Chicago, where he began the practice of law. He found his professional work very remunerative and amassed a large fortune. He was a charter member of the Iroquois Club and a member of the committee from that organization that recently visited the East and interviewed Tilden, Hewitt, and other Democratic lights for the purpose of securing the next Democratic National Convention for Chicago. Mr. Hoyne was at one time Mayor of Chicago. He leaves four sons and a daughter, all residents of this city. It was not until 10 o'clock tonight, 25 hours after the disaster, that Mr. Hoyne's relatives here were informed of his death. 

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.