Living in the Middle

Chapter 8: The Last Lesson

The Last LessonThe noise level in the hall exceeded the typical buzz preceding a lecture. The professor tapped a book on the top of the lectern. “Students, please settle down. You sound like a pack of immature freshmen, not the recently minted, or soon-to-be-seasoned, Columbia alumni who are prepared to go forth and conquer. Many of you sat in these very seats listening to my rants over the last four years, but not all, so let me introduce myself. My name is Henry Seymour. Some, however, call me Professor Doom.”

The thirty or so graduating seniors exploded in laughter as they considered the well-earned nickname, which captured the emotion associated with sitting for one of Seymour’s exams. The professor raised his hand to calm his enthusiastic audience. “Yes, now that you are graduates, we can joke. While you haven’t yet marched at commencement, you’re already Columbia alums. Congratulations!” Seymour clapped and the group followed his lead.

From the back of the room, James Montgomery III observed the composition of the audience—not a woman to be found, or a Black. He had managed to keep his secret throughout his years at the university and developed the habit of sitting in close proximity to the door in order to make a quick exit. He arrived minutes before the lecture started and left promptly at the end. This limited the possibility of any major social interaction with his classmates. Jimmy spoke up in class and was known as one of the best debaters, but steered clear of any issues regarding race, which meant that he often needed to force himself to remain quiet.

Seymour continued, “Thank you for joining this symposium on Post-War Business Opportunities. The Great War ended a few months ago and the business prospects we will discuss today are both numerous and lucrative. Who would like to start with suggestions of fundamental shifts brought about by the war that will impact today’s economy?”

A young man in the front raised his hand. “The war pulled us out of the recession and things are booming now, so consumer products will be profitable.”

Professor Seymour slapped the top of the lectern with his open hand. “Yes, there is nothing like a war to end a recession. Excellent, what else?”

The student next to Jimmy called out, “London will need time to recover, so New York will become the new financial capital of the world. Finance is where the real money will be.”

Heads bobbed up and down in recognition of the potential for stock market speculation. Several students waved their hands and the professor pointed to a man seated by the window. “Mr. Jones, what else may present an opportunity?”

“The new constitutional amendment prohibiting alcohol presents unique opportunities.”

Another commented, “Yes, because it doesn’t prohibit consumption of alcohol, just the sale and distribution. In any case, there is still a lot of opposition against it.”

The professor inserted himself into the conversation. “The proponents for the new amendment claim that other forms of entertainment will become more popular. Perhaps this will lead to new opportunities?”

The student who began this string of the conversation added, “Unlikely. Once someone likes the taste, they don’t let go. People will want alcohol and those willing to take certain risks will make tremendous money getting it to them creatively.” He winked and the students broke out in laughter.

The professor stopped this line of dialogue. “We’re not getting into illegal activities as part of this symposium. Let’s change direction. What social changes have come about that might lead to profitable ventures?”

The student who made the remark about financial markets stood and suggested, “Women worked during the war because of a shortage of men. It may be hard for them to go back to staying at home and soon they will be able to vote. Learning how to court female political power will be the key to winning elections in the near future.”

The professor smirked. “Are you implying there is a connection to being elected to office and turning a profit?”

The class broke out in another round of applause. The student continued, “Hold on, fellas, the world changed during the war. It’s more than just the women. Coloreds moved into the cities in droves when the flow of immigrants from Eastern Europe stopped. They even fought in the war.”

John Anderson, who came from a powerful New York family, quipped, “Served in the war? All they did was clean toilets. Wouldn’t even let them in the Marines. Nothing changes for Blacks, except which toilets they’ll be cleaning!”

Someone in the middle row joked, “Yes, they’ll be happy to get back to good old American toilets!” Half of the men laughed and the other half repeated the line, “American toilets, that’s right!”

John Anderson added, “No need to worry—Blacks know to stay in their place and if any of you want to know why, come to the talk tonight sponsored by the friends of the KKK in Armstrong Hall.”

The professor interrupted, “Enough, you are starting to get off the topic, we need—”

Jimmy wasn’t sure what caused him to violate his golden rule. The one he obeyed for four years without exception. He jumped to his feet, “Are you kidding me, you are announcing a meeting of the KKK in a business discussion? Talking about them offering some helpful explanation? Don’t tell me you’re one of them?”

The large lecture hall became silent. John Anderson stood and turned to the back of the room to address Jimmy. “Careful, James Montgomery, don’t start making this personal. Your father may be dead, but mine is alive and well-connected.”

Jimmy called back, “Who’s making it personal now, Anderson?”

The professor jumped in to regain control of his class. “Back to the facts, boys. This symposium is not about the KKK.”

“Fine,” Jimmy added, “Mr. Anderson isn’t offering correct information—he’s wrong about Blacks in the military. There were some Black combat troops who distinguished themselves and, believe me, they aren’t coming back to clean toilets. You can’t dismiss an entire race of people like this…” He caught himself as John Anderson began to turn red and the stares directed toward Jimmy became numerous. He tried to reframe his comments. “What I mean to say is the Black population will be as much a consumer or voting bloc as any, and to ignore them would be a terrible business mistake.” Jimmy sat down knowing he’d misstepped. John Anderson offered a glare and whispered something to his friend in the next seat. The professor resumed the discussion as Jimmy slipped out the back door.

Chapter 9