How Green Book helped, but also hurt, African-Americans

Americans are a people on the move. As long as there have been automobiles, we have been taking off searching for adventures and opportunities. Authors from John Steinbeck to Jack Kerouac praised the romance of the open road. Pop lyrics urged travelers to get their kicks on Route 66.

Those writers, though, were white.

For African-Americans, as Candacy Taylor’s “Overground Railroad” explains, driving in America always posed as many risks as rewards.

It was particularly dangerous during the Jim Crow era. Black motorists frequently found themselves turned away at motels, coffee shops, even gas stations. Pass through an all-white town after dark, and they could be arrested – or lynched.

It was a perilous time, but one New Yorker made it easier.

His name was Victor Green, and for decades he wrote and self-published a guide called The Green Book. It first came out in 1936, and each year’s issue provided an updated, state-by-state list of businesses that faithfully served black customers. “Carry your Green Book with you,” its cover advised. “You may need it!”

Yes, that should sound like a warning to black drivers; it was that dangerous.

That African-Americans drove through the country at all was a tribute to determination. When the Green Book debuted during the Depression, the average price of a car was $760, six month’s wages for most blacks. Many banks wouldn’t give them loans; most insurers wouldn’t write policies.

Some dealerships refused to sell to AfricanAmericans – even if they paid in cash. General Motors management worried that black customers would cheapen the Cadillac brand and scare off white buyers. The company relented when they realized how popular the car was with black celebrities.

Once black motorists managed to get a car, their troubles took new turns. Of the nation’s gas stations, only one chain, Esso, regularly welcomed African-Americans. Finding a hotel or cafe was even harder.

Black families setting out for a drive learned to bring containers of gasoline in case they ran out, and they packed food because eating in restaurants was so chancy. Longer excursions? Best to pack some blankets in case you had to park somewhere and sleep in your car.

As much of a hassle as all of this planning was, it was minor compared to the actual trip. Racist cops, infuriated by the sight of black drivers, were ready to pounce. Some African-American men bought chauffeur’s caps so, if they were stopped, they could claim they were just servants running errands.

Yet if it were dangerous to be caught driving while black it was still preferable to the institutional nastiness of segregated public transportation.

“Did you ever see a Jim Crow waiting room,” W.E.B. Du Bois wrote in 1920. “You stand and stand and wait and wait until every white person at the ‘other window’ is waited on. The agent browbeats and contradicts you, harasses and confused the ignorant, gives many persons the wrong change, compels some to purchase their tickets on the train at a higher price, and sends you and me out on the platform burning with indignation and hatred.”

Decades later, it was no different. As the movie “Green Book” dramatized, it was no easier for rich and famous African-Americans.

In 1954, Ella Fitzgerald flew out of San Francisco for an Australian tour. The first leg of her trip was fine, but when she tried to change planes in Honolulu, Pan Am refused to allow her to board. She was stranded in Hawaii for two days before Fitzgerald could find another flight. When she sued, the case was dismissed.

That was why black families would scrimp and save to buy a car. Once you had wheels, you had some control over your life, particularly if you had a Green Book in the glove compartment, listing establishments that welcomed black customers.

Some, like Manhattan’s Brooks Brothers and The Pierre hotel, were white-run, integrated havens. Most, however, were small, independent black-owned businesses, eager to serve the community. Their inclusion provided a double benefit, not only steering readers toward safe stores and lodgings but supporting African-American entrepreneurship.

In researching her book, subtitled “The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America,” Taylor drove across the country, visiting as many of Green’s original rec