Chapter 47
The Hospitals
DUANE MADE HIS way down Westchester Avenue to Bronx Lebanon. He entered and asked about victims of the Slocum disaster, but answers didn’t come quickly, so he rested against the wall opposite the visitor’s desk. The all-White staff and clientele offered a collection of stares and smiles—it wasn’t clear if Blacks were welcome, so he kept as low a profile as possible. The nurse called him over.
“What’s the name of the person you’re here for?”
“Bodee Rivers.”
“What kind of German name is that?”
“No kind at all, because he ain’t no German—he a Black man.”
“I think you’re confused. The General Slocum carried parishioners from St. Mark’s, a German church in downtown Manhattan. No Black people at all.”
“Not a passenger—he crew.” Damn, Walter told me not to admit B
