In the decades straddling the 20th century, Fort Wayne factories routinely advertised an urgent need for new female workers. Typical adds in daily newspapers were the following: "Wanted Girls: Boss Manufacturing Company," "Wanted Girls: Wayne Knitting Mills," "Wanted Girls: General Electric Company," "Wanted Girls: Foster's Shirt Waist Factory." While today this might seem like an economic developer's dream, Fort Wayne's female workers were particularly vulnerable to the evils of a rapidly growing industrial city, workplace hazards, and exploitation. For thousands of young working women, the local YWCA offered a helpful protective umbrella.
Between 1900 and 1920, Fort Wayne's population nearly doubled, growing from a mid size town of 45,000 to a bustling city of over 86,000. Much of this growth was due to manufacturing jobs that brought thousands of new workers to town. Fort Wayne became Indiana's second largest industrial center, a leading producer of electrical appliances, light bulbs, magnet wire, railroad cars, knit stockings, gasoline pumps, clothing and trucks.
Fort Wayne also became well known for its unusually high number of young women in the workforce. By 1920 local factories employed roughly 6,000 female workers, about one third of its entire workforce. In comparison, female workers made up approximately 20 percent of the national workforce. While other factory towns drew recent immigrants, the majority of our city's young workers were native born and shared a German American heritage. A significant number were as young as 14.
As in other industrial centers, female workers were mostly unmarried. Jobs were unskilled and considered gender specific. While national tragedies such as the 1911 Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in New York City alerted local factories to hazardous conditions, changes came slowly. By 1920 the typical 55 hour work week was shortened to 48 hours. Female employees earned approximately half of what unskilled male workers were paid. While their low wages kept production costs competitive, young women were lucky to earn enough to cover basic living costs.
Employers justified such wages with the overly simplified assumption that young women lived at home and would only work for a few years before marrying. Public opinion reinforced prejudices against married women in the workpace. In a factory town known for its unlicensed saloons, prostitution and "droves of blackguards," low wages added still more risks.
In Fort Wayne, as across the country, the YWCA was organized to serve as an ally for young working women. Our local story also involves a very special young woman who was part of a large family of famous women leaders.
Fort Wayne's YWCA was organized by 26 year old Agnes Hamilton* as a result of her volunteer work in a church mission established near the Wayne Knitting Mills on West Main Street. In this neighborhood known as Nebraska, Agnes met young girls who lived "in the midst of low squalor, troubles, frightful temptations." She experienced first hand poverty aggravated by the economic depression of 1893-1894. Recognizing the special needs of young women, she took charge of a low cost tea and lunch service known as the "Noon Rest" at 25 West Wayne Street. A boarding house to accomodate 20 roomers soon followed at 51-53 West Berry Street. The Y also kept a registry of acceptable rooms for referral. Following the national movement, the Y promoted physical, social, intellectual and spiritual interests of the women they served.
As factories grew, the scarcity of housing became ever more alarming. It was not unusual for young women to arrive at the train station with little more than the hope of a job. Moreover, employers faced a shortage of workers, what they called "the girl problem." This combination of humanitarian concern and economic self-interest led to building larger dormitories and offering programs to keep young women safe.
In 1910, Wayne Knitting Mills, the city's largest employer of young women, built a large dormitory to accomodate 100 workers. Publicity assured parents that the three story dorm and clubhouse [still standing near West Main Street] provided a safe and attractive environment.
Soon the YWCA, supported by leading city manufacturers, launched a $100,000 building drive for a new Y dormitory. In the same West Wayne Street block where the Allen County Public Library now stands, a 50 room,three story dorm and clubhouse opened in 1913. An attractive dining room seated 100 people. A spacious lounge and library, basement gym, and rooftop garden along with classes and Sunday teas turned the Y into a popular home and social center.
Housing nevertheless remained a major concern. By 1919 the Y took over another building to house 40 more young women. To meet the continued demand, the WCTU opened yet another downtown dorm.
Through its factory based clubs organized as the Federation of Industrial Clubs, the Y coordinated programs for thousands of young working women. Because local leaders shared the philosophy that young women were only short term workers, Y clubs emphasized traditional female activities. Annual meeetings of the federation brought hundreds of young women from across the city together for fellowship.
With World War I, female workers took on some new jobs vacated by men who had joined the military. Working conditions improved with growing recognition of women's importance in the workfoarce. Mirroring national concerns, women became more conscious of opportunities and wages. Some joined unions for the first time. Out of financial necessity, more women remained in the workforce. A small number were trained as supervisors.
By 1920 Y programs had become more diverse and sophisticated as well. A popular Engish teacher from Central High School, for example, offered a class in the American short story. The Y emphasized the importance of a healthy lifestyle and offered free health conferences. While the YWCA still extended a needed hand of security and friendship, their programs began to reflect broader opportunities for women. For Wayne's "Industrial Girls" were moving into a new era.
*Agnes Hamilton became well known as a settlement house leader in Philadelphia. Cousin Alice became a pioneer leader in public health and workplace safety and an advocate for world peace. Cousin Edith achieved fame for her book on Greek mythology and for many years as an educator. Their grandmother Emerine Hamilton was well known in Fort Wayne as a woman's advocate. Other Y founders were Rena Nelson and Minnie Moon.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Fort Wayne Women & the Fight Against Domestic Violence
By Marilyn Moran-Townsend
History Center Board Member and Chair of the YWCA’s Circle of Women
Let’s start with a Pop Quiz. What does a horse have to do with the story of our region’s domestic violence programs?
According to the research of our foremothers, in the early 1900’s, the Humane Officer was in charge of both horse and wife beatings. Routinely, the horse beatings were given larger fines.
Let’s turn back the clock.
The year was 1975. Domestic Violence wasn’t in our lexicon because people generally believed it wasn’t in our homes. To quote one local leader, why provide an opportunity to flee when a woman “goes zooey”? The Board of Directors of the YWCA wasn’t particularly looking to create a Women’s Shelter related to domestic violence; they were just trying to decide what to do with the resident space they had at the facility.
Board President Peggy Hobbs set up a committee to explore the unmet needs of women needing shelter; and Marion Coufoudakis was chair of that committee. The committee surveyed over 120 churches and social service organizations. That survey indicated a strong need for a shelter from domestic violence, but community funders at first didn’t believe the need was real. So IPFW Professor Mike Downs gave the YWCA an intern, Myrtle Slater, to document the legal cases of domestic abuse.
By then, the matter had moved from the Humane Officer to traffic court! Myrtle extrapolated from the data at least 6,000 cases of domestic violence in one year…and those were only the known cases.
As our foremothers were building the case for a shelter in Fort Wayne, one of their stops was the new shelter in Elgin, IL. There they heard the story of how a local politician embarrassed himself at a public meeting when we responded to their request for funding by saying, “I’d sooner fund a cathouse!” A picture of him on the front page of the local paper and the resulting outrage led to the shelter’s funding.
The Fort Wayne women were counseled, “You can always count on some local politician to say the wrong thing at the right time.” Sure enough, a local politician said the wrong thing at the right time in Fort Wayne and that got Journal Gazette Editorial Page Editor Larry Hayes involved.
Here’s the story: A Journal Gazette reporter was at a local township meeting when the YWCA was seeking funding. When Marion Coufoudakis got to the point in her presentation that the shelter would be located at an “undisclosed location,” the Trustee interrupted the presentation, reportedly saying that if we “interfered” with his marriage and took in his wife, that he would come after her and “tear the house down.” The reporter was so incensed….and that got Larry Hays incensed too. A major editorial followed, becoming the turning point for community sentiment.
In late 1977, United Way approved a hundred-eighty-thousand-dollar grant for a pilot project. The Woodhaven building, a former home for unwed mothers, was identified. The first Women’s Shelter in Fort Wayne, and one of the first in the nation, opened in the middle of the GREAT Blizzard of 1978…somehow very appropriate for the whirlwind of awareness the YWCA had created in what was the largest freestanding shelter in Indiana and one of the largest in the nation.
Carol DeWeese was the first Shelter Director. Jan Bates was the second. She and other Fort Wayne pioneers helped start the Indiana Coalition Against Domestic Violence in 1980. Bates was one of the first Chairs. The Coalition got the first Domestic Violence legislation passed, adding $10 to the cost of a marriage license to help fund domestic violence services.
In 1986, the YWCA built its current women’s shelter, again becoming the largest freestanding shelter in Indiana and the only one designed specifically for this purpose. Bea Williams-Tevis was the Women’s Shelter Director at the time. Bea’s many contributions included the development of the domestic violence outreach services, the self-sufficiency program, the unlearning racism program and the shelter’s first domestic violence children’s program.
Fort Wayne’s reputation as a pioneer in this field also includes the story of Deputy Police Chief Dottie Davis, who helped start a lethality assessment and is training thousands of police officers across North America to use the assessment to prevent domestic homicides.
In retrospect, Marion Coufoudakis identified two critical success factors for the Women’s Shelter: It began under the umbrella of the YWCA, which had a significant track record in both management and fiscal responsibility; and the women who started it all were highly respected in the community.
The funding for the YWCA Women’s Shelter began with women in the late 70’s who had little earning power of their own. Then, in 1997, YWCA Executive Director Becky Hill and volunteer Chair Sandi Kemmish teamed up to create the first Circle of Women. The goal was to identify 20 table captains who would each invite 9 other women to attend a luncheon and contribute $100 apiece to help fund the shelter. Now there are nearly 600 in attendance at the annual event! And as for the table captains, there are many, including Chris Rupp and Irene Walters, who have been table captains every year for 15 years! As a result, YWCA CEO Debby Beckman says the Domestic Violence Services are now able to serve our entire region.
YWCA Board Chair Jan Wilhelm says the 35-year story of the Shelter is an important legacy we must continue to preserve and grow. As this year’s Chair of the Circle of Women, I would add, “I can think of no better proof of the VALUE of the YWCA Domestic Violence programs than the time, talent and treasure invested by so many for so long. It is mission-critical that the Circle of Women remains unbroken.”
Monday, February 27, 2012
Calling London
Walter Font, our curator, is working on the 75th anniversary edition of the Old Fort News. While going through our archives to pull photographs for the issue, he pulled this photograph which he thought our blog readers would like to see. The copy below the photo was saved with the image.
The first telephone call made between Fort Wayne, Indiana, and London, England, made February 10, 1927 by means of wire land lines and radio over the Atlantic ocean (sic). The call was made by Mr. Frank E. Bohn, Vice President and General Manager of The Home Telephone and Telegraph Company of Fort Wayne, who talked with Sir Alexander Roger, Chairman of the Telephone Development Association of Great Britain.
The first telephone call made between Fort Wayne, Indiana, and London, England, made February 10, 1927 by means of wire land lines and radio over the Atlantic ocean (sic). The call was made by Mr. Frank E. Bohn, Vice President and General Manager of The Home Telephone and Telegraph Company of Fort Wayne, who talked with Sir Alexander Roger, Chairman of the Telephone Development Association of Great Britain.
Those “listening in” in the picture, seated left to right are:
1. E. A. Crane, Pres. Rotary Club
2. Agatha Diek, Sec’ty Board of Works
3. J. T. Johnson, Board of Works
4. Wm. S. O’Rourke, Board of Works
5. Wm. E. Geake, Mayor of Fort Wayne
6. Frank E. Bohn, V.P. & Gen. Mgr., The Home Tel. & Tel. Company
7. C. M. Neizer, Pres. H.T. & T. CO.
8. Walter Kavanaugh, Chief of Police
9. G. Max Huffman, Director H.T. & T. Co.
10. Ed. M. Wilson, “ “ “ “
11. C. I. Kuppinger, Representing A. E. Inc., Chicago
12. Angus McCoy, Board of Works
Standing, left to right:
1. E. C. Miller, Director H.T. & T. Co.
2. O. Marahrens, Sec’ty H.T. & T. Co.
3. Robt. Snyder, Sec’ty Rotary Club
4. Arthur Remmel, Editor Ft. Wayne News-Sentinel
5. L. G. Ellingham, Owner Ft. Wayne Journal-Gazette
6. Thos. Snook, Board of Works
7. C. I. Hall, Research Dept. G. E. Co.
8. W. A. Bohn, Director H.T. & T. Co.
9. L. H. Moore “ “ “ “
10. H. E. Bodine, Sec’ty Chamber of Commerce
11. B. J. Griswald, Sec’ty Real Estate Board
Friday, February 17, 2012
A Letter "To My Old Master"
Letter-writing has become a lost art, to the dismay of historians and our own empty mailboxes, so in coming across the blog "Letters of Note," I was impressed by the grace, wit and eloquence with which so many of these letters, long and short, have been written.
In honor of Black History Month, here is a particularly sly, forthright and striking letter written by a freed slave. You can access the original, published in an 1865 newspaper, via the link below.
www.lettersofnote.com/2012/01/to-my-old-master.html
Dayton, Ohio,
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master, Colonel P.H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee
Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin's to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.
I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,—the folks call her Mrs. Anderson,—and the children—Milly, Jane, and Grundy—go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, "Them colored people were slaves" down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.
As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor's visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams's Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.
In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.
Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.
From your old servant,
Jourdon Anderson.
In honor of Black History Month, here is a particularly sly, forthright and striking letter written by a freed slave. You can access the original, published in an 1865 newspaper, via the link below.
www.lettersofnote.com/2012/01/to-my-old-master.html
Dayton, Ohio,
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master, Colonel P.H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee
Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin's to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.
I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,—the folks call her Mrs. Anderson,—and the children—Milly, Jane, and Grundy—go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, "Them colored people were slaves" down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.
As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor's visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams's Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.
In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.
Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.
From your old servant,
Jourdon Anderson.
The Power of Indiana's Early Colored Women's Clubs (Part 2)
By Marsha Smiley
The Black Experience in Indiana
(see Part I, posted in January 2012, here)
In Indiana, black migrants found many of the same impediments they’d faced in the South. Significantly, in response to their oppression, Hoosier blacks formed a multitude of fraternal organizations to meet the needs of their communities. Due to discrimination and being shorn of their basic human rights, Indiana blacks founded numerous “religious, fraternal, social welfare, cultural, and educational organizations, institutions and societies… from the 1860’s to the 1930’s.”15 While auxiliary women’s groups have always sprung up to complement male lodges, women have independently formed clubs to meet specifically their own needs and purposes. Black women, however, would be called upon, due to the dictates of black society, to not only focus on their own self-improvement but to work for the advancement of all African Americans. Closely tied to the church, black society saw the role of women primarily as one of moral uplift. Although faced with both racial and gender discrimination, black women played a pivotal role in the development of black society, leading the way in philanthropic projects and elevating the status of black people through the granting of educational scholarships to youth, enrichment activities and cultural programs for the community.
From 1890 -1895, society witnessed a period of time when organizational activity escalated among all strata of Americans across the country, with Indiana not being left out. Due to the combined impact of industrialization, changes in transportation, and urbanization Americans sought ways to preserve their past mores and values. Americans believed societal concerns could be addressed by organized group action. Black women agreed, feeling this method was the best way “to address the overt causes of and a potent antidote to corruption, racism, poverty, and disease”.16 A myriad of women’s clubs took form. In 1890, white women organized the General Federation of Women’s Clubs. In keeping with the accepted practices of that time, GFWC would not allow any black women to join their ranks.17 During that era, white women were indifferent or unaware of black women’s groups and were actively opposed to the establishment of any linkage. “Most white women did not experience social ostracism, segregation and the denial of basic rights. Nor were white women encumbered with the elevation of an entire race”.18 Their realities and identities differed. One notable exception, however, was May Wright Sewall, whose accomplishments render her one of the most important women in Indianapolis history. One of the founders of the Indiana Museum of Art, a founder of the National Council of Women and the International Council of Women, she was one of the leading feminist of her generation.19 Unlike her peers, Sewall was actively interested and engaged in the problems of black women. She was one of the principal speakers at the forming of the Indiana State Federation of Colored Women’s Clubs, in 1903, in the Hoosier capital.20
The clubs of African-American women are deeply rooted in the church. Without question, the church has played a crucial role in black social development and history. At the turn of the 20th century the black church, the foundation and center of black life, began to assume the role of community leadership, merging both sacred imperatives with secular concerns. It was black women who prodded the church towards service as a welfare agency, shaping it into an institution for social, as well as, spiritual uplift. The black church is where the first organized grouping or meeting of black women occurred. Due to the religious ties and the location of club meetings in the churches many of the women’s clubs were inextricably bound to the churches. The clubs, associations, and societies within the church provided its women members the opportunity to develop leadership, (granted surreptitiously), organizational and governance skills. Women in black churches initially acquired training and organizational skills through their involvement in administering various church activities such as missionary societies, social events, fundraising, and aid society programs for challenged members. For example, several black churches in Terre Haute, in 1914, through their women-led aid societies, banned together to establish a much needed day care nursery, for the many working mothers of their congregations.21
Even though women in the black church showed through their church work and activities many qualities, black society refused to budge from viewing a woman’s role solely as one of moral uplift. By the late 1890’s, large numbers of black women became involved with more secular based clubs, associations, organizations, and societies. While they did not abandon their church clubs, it became apparent to them the inherent structural and organizational limitations imposed by church clubs kept them from working with a broader section of women. They found limiting club membership to solely church members and concentrating power in the hands of men too restrictive. Gradually, black women, in Indiana, made it known club structure needed to be flexible and more inclusive. Black women knew in order to be able to create and influence black social development they would need to organize more inclusive secular institutions where new coalitions could be forged and collective action could shift to a broad spectrum of community issues.22
There were commonalities in the establishment of black women’s clubs. “Usually one woman, or a small group, would found a club by calling a meeting of a few friends. Once assembled in a private home, church, or lodge building the group would debate, discuss, argue, and eventually agree to organize for a particular purpose…It was not unusual for one woman to belong to several clubs and to hold leadership positions simultaneously in each organization. By the way, there appears to be an exception to the rule even here. According to a 1953 state federation booklet the Alpha Art Club, now defunct, was organized by a Dr. Charles E. Hawkins on November 16, 1916 in Gary, Indiana, and was the only church club to hold membership in the Indiana State Federation.
For the most part, with black life dominated by low-skill paying jobs, wretched living circumstances, housing limited to ghetto areas, and white bigotry, the present and future for them looked inexorably bleak. Therefore, most clubs regardless of their particular socially uplifting project, justified their existence in almost identical terminology: they sought to protect either the sanctity of the home, guard the welfare of black children, improve the status of black women or to elevate the race.”23 All clubs raised funds for projects, performed important welfare and charitable functions in their communities where many inhabitants were poverty-stricken and often new migrants from the rural areas of the South requiring assistance in adjusting to a new and sometimes hostile environment. The very transition of living in an urban setting had its own challenges for those who had just recently arrived from rural areas of the South.
It was from the financial proclivities of those employed in the fields of semi-skilled and/or domestic services and the black middle class that funds were derived for instituting socioeconomic projects to elevate the status and raise the living conditions of black people. As previously pointed out, blacks migrating from the abominable conditions in the South, found themselves in similar circumstances in their new locales-- relegated to sub-par shelter, deplorable living conditions, untenable health care, dead-end, penury paying jobs, and unequal education. A small minority of African Americans, however, were able to earn degrees in such professions as lawyers, physicians, businessmen, ministers, and teachers. On the whole, many of the professionals in the black middle class were women teachers, forming the largest educated segment of black society.24 It was teaching in segregated school systems that principally afforded the most opportunities vocationally for educated blacks, particularly women. “Black women teachers exerted incalculable influence in the classroom as well as in civic and cultural life.”25 They were the most revered, enjoying more prestige and providing more leadership than their counterpart in the white community. An upwardly mobile black middle class did develop by providing services and products to the black masses that patronized them and supported their entrepreneurial ventures. The black middle class grew wealthy, bought real estate and built posh homes while accepting community leadership roles, ultimately they set the mark of success within the black community.
The reason, usually, women professionals exceeded their counterpart was simply economics. Since it was necessary for every member of a black family to work in order to exist, keeping children in school meant sacrifice. Girls often received the most schooling, while boys entered the workforce at an early age to help supplement family income. In fact, in 1876, the first black graduate from an Indianapolis public school was a girl. Most young women attended teacher training schools, after completing normal school. Gertrude Mahorney became Indy’s first black college graduate, graduating from Butler University in 1887. During her long tenure in the Indianapolis public school system, she would be the only black teacher who taught German.26
Notes
15. Darlene Clark Hine, When the Truth is Told: A History of Black Women...Indianapolis, 1981, p.13.
16. Gerda Lerner, Early Community Work of Black Club Women, Journal of Negro History 59, April 1974,
p. 158-167.
17. Black Women in White America, N. Y.: Pantheon Books 1972. When the Truth is Told, p. 33.
18. William H. Chafe, The American Woman: Her Changing Social, Economic, and Political Roles 1920-1970, Oxford University Press, 1972, p. 16-17.
19. Wilma Gibbs, Indiana’s African American Heritage: Essays, Indianapolis, 1993, p. 77.
20. Ibid., p. 77.
21. Ibid., p. 72.
22. When the Truth is Told, p.32. Gerda Lerner, Black Club Women.
23. Indiana’s….Heritage/History of Black Women p.74. When the Truth is Told, p. 33.
24. Ibid., p.72-73.
25. Ibid., p. 13. History of Black Women, p. 73.
26. Ibid., p.73
The Black Experience in Indiana
(see Part I, posted in January 2012, here)
In Indiana, black migrants found many of the same impediments they’d faced in the South. Significantly, in response to their oppression, Hoosier blacks formed a multitude of fraternal organizations to meet the needs of their communities. Due to discrimination and being shorn of their basic human rights, Indiana blacks founded numerous “religious, fraternal, social welfare, cultural, and educational organizations, institutions and societies… from the 1860’s to the 1930’s.”15 While auxiliary women’s groups have always sprung up to complement male lodges, women have independently formed clubs to meet specifically their own needs and purposes. Black women, however, would be called upon, due to the dictates of black society, to not only focus on their own self-improvement but to work for the advancement of all African Americans. Closely tied to the church, black society saw the role of women primarily as one of moral uplift. Although faced with both racial and gender discrimination, black women played a pivotal role in the development of black society, leading the way in philanthropic projects and elevating the status of black people through the granting of educational scholarships to youth, enrichment activities and cultural programs for the community.
From 1890 -1895, society witnessed a period of time when organizational activity escalated among all strata of Americans across the country, with Indiana not being left out. Due to the combined impact of industrialization, changes in transportation, and urbanization Americans sought ways to preserve their past mores and values. Americans believed societal concerns could be addressed by organized group action. Black women agreed, feeling this method was the best way “to address the overt causes of and a potent antidote to corruption, racism, poverty, and disease”.16 A myriad of women’s clubs took form. In 1890, white women organized the General Federation of Women’s Clubs. In keeping with the accepted practices of that time, GFWC would not allow any black women to join their ranks.17 During that era, white women were indifferent or unaware of black women’s groups and were actively opposed to the establishment of any linkage. “Most white women did not experience social ostracism, segregation and the denial of basic rights. Nor were white women encumbered with the elevation of an entire race”.18 Their realities and identities differed. One notable exception, however, was May Wright Sewall, whose accomplishments render her one of the most important women in Indianapolis history. One of the founders of the Indiana Museum of Art, a founder of the National Council of Women and the International Council of Women, she was one of the leading feminist of her generation.19 Unlike her peers, Sewall was actively interested and engaged in the problems of black women. She was one of the principal speakers at the forming of the Indiana State Federation of Colored Women’s Clubs, in 1903, in the Hoosier capital.20
The clubs of African-American women are deeply rooted in the church. Without question, the church has played a crucial role in black social development and history. At the turn of the 20th century the black church, the foundation and center of black life, began to assume the role of community leadership, merging both sacred imperatives with secular concerns. It was black women who prodded the church towards service as a welfare agency, shaping it into an institution for social, as well as, spiritual uplift. The black church is where the first organized grouping or meeting of black women occurred. Due to the religious ties and the location of club meetings in the churches many of the women’s clubs were inextricably bound to the churches. The clubs, associations, and societies within the church provided its women members the opportunity to develop leadership, (granted surreptitiously), organizational and governance skills. Women in black churches initially acquired training and organizational skills through their involvement in administering various church activities such as missionary societies, social events, fundraising, and aid society programs for challenged members. For example, several black churches in Terre Haute, in 1914, through their women-led aid societies, banned together to establish a much needed day care nursery, for the many working mothers of their congregations.21
Even though women in the black church showed through their church work and activities many qualities, black society refused to budge from viewing a woman’s role solely as one of moral uplift. By the late 1890’s, large numbers of black women became involved with more secular based clubs, associations, organizations, and societies. While they did not abandon their church clubs, it became apparent to them the inherent structural and organizational limitations imposed by church clubs kept them from working with a broader section of women. They found limiting club membership to solely church members and concentrating power in the hands of men too restrictive. Gradually, black women, in Indiana, made it known club structure needed to be flexible and more inclusive. Black women knew in order to be able to create and influence black social development they would need to organize more inclusive secular institutions where new coalitions could be forged and collective action could shift to a broad spectrum of community issues.22
There were commonalities in the establishment of black women’s clubs. “Usually one woman, or a small group, would found a club by calling a meeting of a few friends. Once assembled in a private home, church, or lodge building the group would debate, discuss, argue, and eventually agree to organize for a particular purpose…It was not unusual for one woman to belong to several clubs and to hold leadership positions simultaneously in each organization. By the way, there appears to be an exception to the rule even here. According to a 1953 state federation booklet the Alpha Art Club, now defunct, was organized by a Dr. Charles E. Hawkins on November 16, 1916 in Gary, Indiana, and was the only church club to hold membership in the Indiana State Federation.
For the most part, with black life dominated by low-skill paying jobs, wretched living circumstances, housing limited to ghetto areas, and white bigotry, the present and future for them looked inexorably bleak. Therefore, most clubs regardless of their particular socially uplifting project, justified their existence in almost identical terminology: they sought to protect either the sanctity of the home, guard the welfare of black children, improve the status of black women or to elevate the race.”23 All clubs raised funds for projects, performed important welfare and charitable functions in their communities where many inhabitants were poverty-stricken and often new migrants from the rural areas of the South requiring assistance in adjusting to a new and sometimes hostile environment. The very transition of living in an urban setting had its own challenges for those who had just recently arrived from rural areas of the South.
It was from the financial proclivities of those employed in the fields of semi-skilled and/or domestic services and the black middle class that funds were derived for instituting socioeconomic projects to elevate the status and raise the living conditions of black people. As previously pointed out, blacks migrating from the abominable conditions in the South, found themselves in similar circumstances in their new locales-- relegated to sub-par shelter, deplorable living conditions, untenable health care, dead-end, penury paying jobs, and unequal education. A small minority of African Americans, however, were able to earn degrees in such professions as lawyers, physicians, businessmen, ministers, and teachers. On the whole, many of the professionals in the black middle class were women teachers, forming the largest educated segment of black society.24 It was teaching in segregated school systems that principally afforded the most opportunities vocationally for educated blacks, particularly women. “Black women teachers exerted incalculable influence in the classroom as well as in civic and cultural life.”25 They were the most revered, enjoying more prestige and providing more leadership than their counterpart in the white community. An upwardly mobile black middle class did develop by providing services and products to the black masses that patronized them and supported their entrepreneurial ventures. The black middle class grew wealthy, bought real estate and built posh homes while accepting community leadership roles, ultimately they set the mark of success within the black community.
The reason, usually, women professionals exceeded their counterpart was simply economics. Since it was necessary for every member of a black family to work in order to exist, keeping children in school meant sacrifice. Girls often received the most schooling, while boys entered the workforce at an early age to help supplement family income. In fact, in 1876, the first black graduate from an Indianapolis public school was a girl. Most young women attended teacher training schools, after completing normal school. Gertrude Mahorney became Indy’s first black college graduate, graduating from Butler University in 1887. During her long tenure in the Indianapolis public school system, she would be the only black teacher who taught German.26
Notes
15. Darlene Clark Hine, When the Truth is Told: A History of Black Women...Indianapolis, 1981, p.13.
16. Gerda Lerner, Early Community Work of Black Club Women, Journal of Negro History 59, April 1974,
p. 158-167.
17. Black Women in White America, N. Y.: Pantheon Books 1972. When the Truth is Told, p. 33.
18. William H. Chafe, The American Woman: Her Changing Social, Economic, and Political Roles 1920-1970, Oxford University Press, 1972, p. 16-17.
19. Wilma Gibbs, Indiana’s African American Heritage: Essays, Indianapolis, 1993, p. 77.
20. Ibid., p. 77.
21. Ibid., p. 72.
22. When the Truth is Told, p.32. Gerda Lerner, Black Club Women.
23. Indiana’s….Heritage/History of Black Women p.74. When the Truth is Told, p. 33.
24. Ibid., p.72-73.
25. Ibid., p. 13. History of Black Women, p. 73.
26. Ibid., p.73
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A view of Rastetter Furniture
John Beatty's blog post on Rastetter furniture prompted us to take some photos of a recent acquisition courtesy of the Scottish Rite as well as a photo of one of our exhibits at the museum.
The chair above is one of many that were in the original Scottish Rite on the corner of Washington and Clinton.
The labels above are on the back of the chair (manufacturer's seal) and the front (Scottish Rite seal).
This chair is part of the display at the History Center featuring Rastetter's work.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Louis Rastetter & Sons Folding Chairs and Tables
Many area families are fortunate to own a set of matching card table and chairs manufactured by the Fort Wayne firm of Louis Rastetter and Sons. The furniture was made of fine hardwood in a variety of styles. All could be folded, and it was so well made that even 70 and 80 years later, many pieces are still in fine condition and in regular use. Indeed, a Rastetter set remains a highly collectable local antique and can still be found at many local garage and estate sales.
The firm began in 1882 in a small machine shop at the corner to Jefferson and Calhoun streets. Its founder, Louis C. Rastetter, a native of Baden, Germany, had arrived in New York in 1854, and after several years in that state, finally reached Fort Wayne and found work in the Wabash Railroad Shops. He manufactured clocks, including one for the 1860 courthouse, and by 1882 began developing a line of bent wood bows of various sizes for use as the framework for buggy tops.
The firm continued to grow. In 1887, Rastetter moved his business to Broadway, near the junction of the Pennsylvania Railroad, where he began making fuse and connection boxes for the Jenney Electric Light Company, the forerunner of General Electric. In 1890, he won a contract with the A. G. Spalding Company for making bent wood frames for tennis rackets. Spalding was so impressed that it bought all of Rastetter's tennis racket equipment and moved it to its own plant in Massachusetts.
The Rastetter Company remained innovative. It continued to make buggy tops but added to it the manufacture of bicycle rims to keep up with the new craze in cycling in the 1890s. The factory moved again in 1895 to Wall Street at the corner of Nelson, one block west of Garden Street. When Louis Rastetter died in 1898, he was succeeded by his son, William, who shifted the business focus from bicycle rims to wooden steering wheel rims for newly-manufactured automobiles. As these began to evolve away from horseless carriages with buggy tops to more substantial, closed-body vehicles, the company's business declined, and William began to look for something else for his company to manufacture. He then arrived at the decision that would transform the firm and make it well-known across America: the manufacture of folding furniture.
Folding furniture was a natural fit for a company with a long experience in making foldable buggy tops. The chairs were strong, durable, and were soon designed to accompany matching folding tables. By the 1930s, the company made the largest assortment of such card tables and chairs of any in the United States. A radio script on the history of local businesses from WGL in 1937 praised Rastetter's work and the diversity of its craftsmanship. "Such beautiful period types as Duncan Phyfe, Chippendale, New Classic, Sheraton, and Moderne are now included as standard in their line. Their folding tables have been immensely improved - tables without braces showing on the legs - that are far more rigid than the old type." Rastetter also won large contracts with cruise ship companies and manufactured folding chairs for ocean liners. Churches, businesses, and clubs all over the country also purchased many of the chairs. The standard label read the "Solid Kumfort Folding Chair." The company remained in business until the early 1960s.
By looking at the original label on a Rastetter chair or table, it is possible to tell the date of its manufacture. The company offered many different styles, coverings, and varnishes over its long history. Because the furniture was so widely distributed and associated with quality, each piece served as a kind of ambassador for Fort Wayne and the people who made it. Or as the radio script from 1937 stated, "Naturally, this reflects in no small way the increasing evidence of Fort Wayne as a diversified manufacturing center."
So if you have a Rastetter table and chair set, especially in pristine original condition, treasure it. Such sets are highly sought after by collectors. The several sets my wife and I own are still in regular use on gaming nights with our children or when we have extra company at our dining table. How do you use yours?
The firm began in 1882 in a small machine shop at the corner to Jefferson and Calhoun streets. Its founder, Louis C. Rastetter, a native of Baden, Germany, had arrived in New York in 1854, and after several years in that state, finally reached Fort Wayne and found work in the Wabash Railroad Shops. He manufactured clocks, including one for the 1860 courthouse, and by 1882 began developing a line of bent wood bows of various sizes for use as the framework for buggy tops.
The firm continued to grow. In 1887, Rastetter moved his business to Broadway, near the junction of the Pennsylvania Railroad, where he began making fuse and connection boxes for the Jenney Electric Light Company, the forerunner of General Electric. In 1890, he won a contract with the A. G. Spalding Company for making bent wood frames for tennis rackets. Spalding was so impressed that it bought all of Rastetter's tennis racket equipment and moved it to its own plant in Massachusetts.
The Rastetter Company remained innovative. It continued to make buggy tops but added to it the manufacture of bicycle rims to keep up with the new craze in cycling in the 1890s. The factory moved again in 1895 to Wall Street at the corner of Nelson, one block west of Garden Street. When Louis Rastetter died in 1898, he was succeeded by his son, William, who shifted the business focus from bicycle rims to wooden steering wheel rims for newly-manufactured automobiles. As these began to evolve away from horseless carriages with buggy tops to more substantial, closed-body vehicles, the company's business declined, and William began to look for something else for his company to manufacture. He then arrived at the decision that would transform the firm and make it well-known across America: the manufacture of folding furniture.
Folding furniture was a natural fit for a company with a long experience in making foldable buggy tops. The chairs were strong, durable, and were soon designed to accompany matching folding tables. By the 1930s, the company made the largest assortment of such card tables and chairs of any in the United States. A radio script on the history of local businesses from WGL in 1937 praised Rastetter's work and the diversity of its craftsmanship. "Such beautiful period types as Duncan Phyfe, Chippendale, New Classic, Sheraton, and Moderne are now included as standard in their line. Their folding tables have been immensely improved - tables without braces showing on the legs - that are far more rigid than the old type." Rastetter also won large contracts with cruise ship companies and manufactured folding chairs for ocean liners. Churches, businesses, and clubs all over the country also purchased many of the chairs. The standard label read the "Solid Kumfort Folding Chair." The company remained in business until the early 1960s.
By looking at the original label on a Rastetter chair or table, it is possible to tell the date of its manufacture. The company offered many different styles, coverings, and varnishes over its long history. Because the furniture was so widely distributed and associated with quality, each piece served as a kind of ambassador for Fort Wayne and the people who made it. Or as the radio script from 1937 stated, "Naturally, this reflects in no small way the increasing evidence of Fort Wayne as a diversified manufacturing center."
So if you have a Rastetter table and chair set, especially in pristine original condition, treasure it. Such sets are highly sought after by collectors. The several sets my wife and I own are still in regular use on gaming nights with our children or when we have extra company at our dining table. How do you use yours?
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