Dr. Joseph L. Henry looked down at his hand: a queen of hearts, a six of clubs, and an eight of diamonds. Not promising. But the Howard University professor of dentistry hadn't become a renowned bridge player without knowing how to handle a few bad cards. He glanced at the three other players at his table, took a sip of ice water, and waited for his turn. Surrounding Henry's table were 189 other tables, each seating four people divided into teams of two, all playing in quiet concentration. Twenty teenage waiters moved silently around the cavernous room, filling glasses, emptying ashtrays, and occasionally pausing to watch Larry Edwards, who, at 15, was the youngest player in the room and who was already being lauded as "the future of bridge."
Henry and approximately 750 of the world's best African-American bridge players were gathered in Detroit's Sheraton-Cadillac Hotel to test their mettle at the 1962 American Bridge Association (ABA) annual national tournament. Over the course of eight days the competitors would play at least two games each per day, use 750 decks of cards, mark up 100,000 score cards, smoke approximately 300 packs of cigarettes, and drink 3,200 pitchers of water, 100 gallons of coffee, and 1,000 bottles of Coca-Cola.
Then, after the last hand was played and all the entry fees were tallied, the ABA's leaders would announce they were donating $3,000 ($28,000 in today's dollars) to "national organizations that are devoted to civil rights, employment, and educational opportunities for minority groups."
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
THE SPY Has to TRAVEL
Freck Vreeland was raised in privilege by a legendary arbiter of taste. He boarded at Groton, studied at Yale, and befriended Jackie Kennedy-then things got interesting. Here, ahead of his upcoming memoir, the high society secret agent tells all.
Game CHANGER
A century ago, Black Americans fell in love with bridge. Excluded from whites-only leagues, they made the game their own, and for a few exhilarating decades it played a starring role in the social and political lives of the burgeoning African-American middle and upper classes. Can its legacy survive in the modern age?
CHRONICLE OF A DISAPPEARANCE FORETOLD
The signs were everywhere. There was trouble at the San Antonio home of Brad and Suzanne Simpson. But when the mother and real estate agent went missing after a public fight with her husband at the exclusive Argyle club, a tony Texas enclave began to wonder if it had looked the other way for too long. Was discretion the true culprit in the still unsolved case?
What's Luck Got to Do with It?
Longevity in Hollywood can be elusive unless you're Angela Bassett. With a smart new series that puts her in the Oval Office and a summer blockbuster on the horizon, she delivers a master class in both elegance and endurance.
No Shrinking VIOLET
For a certain woman, this iconic scent has become as much an everyday wardrobe staple as her Cartier Tank and her Hermès scarf.
I Pledge Allegiance to THIS HOUSE
How a Charleston visionary came to love the demanding landmark she never wanted in the first place.
The College Counselor Rock Star Diaries
They command enormous fees to insert themselves in your teenager's life, choosing classes, extracurriculars-even summer activities-all in the pursuit of creating the perfect college candidate. Good luck getting one to see you.
The Cult of BACK PAIN
Membership in this highly undesirable club comes with its own lingo, syllabus, and gurus and now its very own antihero.
The Un-Tortured Artist
Robert Rauschenberg's compound on Captiva will once again serve as muse.
Where Is My Bodyguard?
Those four anxious little words are suddenly everywhere, casting a spotlight on the shadowy and booming business of executive protection.
