When World War II began the United States government maintained segregated forces in all branches of the military. Assignments were based on a person’s race. In the United States Navy sailors given responsibility for running the ships were white. The black men drafted by the navy performed galley or mess jobs—cleaning up, fixing food, and serving the white sailors. Of course black seamen died in naval combat along with their white shipmates when ships were attacked or sunk.
In early 1942 the navy decided to try an experiment. At the urging of state and national leaders it created the United States Navy B-1 Band, comprised of the best black musicians that could be found in the state of North Carolina. When they reported for duty in Raleigh on May 27, they became the fist blacks to serve in the navy in anything other than galley positions.
The band remained a segregated unit—all black. But they were to be used to build the morale of white sailors and civilians. This caused some controversy, and several institutions in the South fearing racial problems refused to provide space for the band. Largely through the efforts of Frank Porter Graham, president of the University of North Carolina and a champion of civil rights, the band came to Chapel Hill. The Navy B-1 Band was stationed with the navy’s Pre-Flight Training School, which taught navy pilot cadets to fly. The navy realized that the morale of its pilot trainees needed bolstering due to the stress caused by learning combat flying. The band would provide excellent entertainment, relieve tension, and provide an important service to the war effort.
Who were the men in the Navy B-1 Band? Thirty-one of the band’s forty-four members came from A & T University in Greensboro. According to bandleader James B. Parsons, the members “were concerned about the war. And we were concerned with music. We were all serious musicians—the absolute best that could be found in the state.” Parsons himself was not a native Tar Heel. He had moved from Lincoln University in Missouri, where he headed the music department, to Greensboro. Parsons directed the music program in the city’s black schools. Nine of his high school students entered the band, too. “One of the stipulations I made before I would take over the band was that my students be allowed to finish their school year so eight could graduate and Roy Lake could finish his junior year,” Parsons recalled in a recent interview.
After the band reported for duty in Raleigh, all personnel traveled to Norfolk, Virginia, for naval training. There they endured six weeks of rigorous marching and conditioning exercises and learned the navy routine. They also saw that the navy was not all that different from civilian life. Parsons explained, “We were treated by the command post with great concern and cooperation. But by the white enlisted personnel, we were treated with contempt.”
Their North Carolina homecoming did little to boost their spirits. The scene that greeted the proud navy bandsmen when they entered Chapel Hill was sobering. James Parsons described it this way: I shan’t forget it as long as I live. We left Norfolk early on a dull, rainy morning that got duller and rainier as we got closer to Chapel Hill. Just outside of town we got off our bus and were met by the officers and three companies of cadets in dress whites, like ours, and we assembled to parade into town. People started coming out on Franklin Street to see what was happening. Then they started jeering at us, calling us all kinds of ugly names, most of them racial slurs. They were throwing mud and rocks at us. I got cut on my cheek. At least one instrument was dented. My men had mud all over them. But in the midst of all that, [the band] held their heads high. I’d never heard them play better. We played and marched right through that mob, through town, to the navy school, and then to our barracks.There they were met by a welcoming committee of a different sort. Local blacks from the community had prepared a wonderful reception “with great refreshments and lots of pretty women.”
Things did not improve quickly for the band or for the white naval cadets from northern states stationed at Chapel Hill. “We were in Chapel Hill for weeks before we could go in a drugstore to buy anything. They hated those white Yankees, but they let them into their drugstores. They hated us worse.”
The men of the B-1 Band had their work cut out for them if they hoped to change any attitudes in Chapel Hill. “We did everything we could to be model sailors and citizens of the community. And slowly we found ourselves received in public places, until we could go in theaters and restaurants, though of course they were still segregated.” One thing that undoubtedly helped sway white prejudices was the band’s outstanding musicianship. A full-sized regimental band, they performed regularly in Chapel Hill for the navy and for the public. They presented concerts and played at regimental reviews and awards presentations in Kenan Stadium. Their music sparked parties, picnics, and dances in the Tin Can for the naval cadets. They played in local churches and civic programs, including one Christmas show scripted by Paul Green. They also performed with Kate Smith and the famous Camel Caravan in a concert and on the Caravan’s nationally syndicated radio broadcast.
James B. Parsons, the band’s leader, gives trumpet lessons to a Chapel Hill youth in 1943 in the band’s barracks. In 1961 Parsons became the first African American appointed to a federal superior court judgeship by President John F. Kennedy.
The band toured in other areas of the state as well—at war bond rallies in Raleigh and Durham; at a ship launching in Wilmington; and at Fort Bragg. The music they played was as varied as the occasions. They offered classical and marching pieces, popular big band tunes, hymns, and patriotic numbers. Their swing band, known as the Cloud Busters, delighted dancers and listeners, playing some of the hottest jazz most Chapel Hill residents had ever heard.
Not all aspects of their military duties were enjoyable, however. Because of the segregation policies of the navy, the men had to be kept in separate quarters where they also ate all of their meals. The navy placed them in the newly constructed community center (now a recreation center) on the outskirts of Chapel Hill. The building was fine, but it stood over a mile from the Pre-Flight School. Every morning they had to get up, dress, and eat before marching that distance at sunrise to play “Reveille” and raise the American flag over the white sailors’ compound. They would then march and train throughout the morning, march back to their quarters for lunch and inspection, march back to the school for more drills, and then march to their quarters for dinner. After dinner one trumpet player had to return once again to take the flag down and play “Taps.” “Isn’t that something?” asked Dr. Roger Holt, now living in Chicago. “You’d think they could’ve afforded to give us a jeep or something. We looked like a bunch of fools marching every morning—no music, just quiet steps before dawn.” The flag ritual occurred everyday of the week, no matter what the weather.
The band raising the colors, Chapel Hill, ca. 1943.
Because of their talent as musicians and their social skills as gentlemen, the men of the B-1 Band earned a place of respect in Chapel Hill. The respect had always been there, however, in the town’s black community. The band returned that regard in many ways. They gave Christmas parties and music lessons to children. They served as big brothers and role models for many others, some of whose fathers or brothers served in the military at other bases. They had regular open houses, showing movies or entertaining with informal jam sessions. By the time the band left Chapel Hill most of the townspeople, black and white, admired the musicians. The turnout for their farewell parade reflected the change. “The parade when we left was a different story,” Parsons remembered. “The streets were lined up as before, but this time there was applause, cries of farewell, and good wishes. They all truly seemed to hate to see us leave.”
But leave they did. In May, 1944, the band was transferred to sea duty in Hawaii for the duration of the war. The band continued to provide outstanding entertainment for naval personnel and civilians at their new base.
Band member Huey Lawrence, a former football player for A & T University now living in Ayden, believes, “It was a great thing to be in the United States Navy. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. Whatever happened, wherever we went, was fine with me. Besides, I wouldn’t have met my wife if I hadn’t enlisted.” Most of the other musicians share his feelings. Despite the hardships it was an experience of a lifetime that allowed lasting friendships to develop. Band members speak of each other as family members and hold regular reunions every two years. . . . Their example helped later black sailors break out of the stereotyped roles they had been forced to endure for so many years.
Reprinted from Tar Heel Junior Historian 25 (spring 1986), 13-16.