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1 The Early Years Prologue The New York City courtroom is packed and buzzing with anticipation. Finally the judge gavels for order. He nods at the bailiff who begins to read, “the State of New York versus George W. Johnson . . . the charge, murder in the first . . .” Suddenly the room erupts, and the judge gavels repeatedly. “Order, order! Order , or I’ll clear this courtroom.” He glares down at the prosecutor, a small ineptlooking man, who looks back and shrugs as if to say, “Don’t askme what’s going on.” The judge has never seen such a turnout for a case like this. There must be one hundred people in the noisy courtroom. Rows of black men and women from the defendant’s neighborhood pack the seats on one side of the aisle, there to lend support and show how beloved he is in their marginal world. Opposite them, incredibly , are rows of white people, prosperous-looking citizens, businessmen in their suits and vests, even a corporate attorney who has worked to ensure that this “itinerant Negro” gets the best defense the white legal system can provide. At the defense table sit two of the leading criminal lawyers in the city, both white. Seated between them is the defendant, a burly black man with a very dark complexion and in his early fifties, dressed for the occasion but obviously not wealthy. His well-worn face bespeaks a long life of hardship, but his expression is serene. He has been charged with beating his mulatto mistress to death while drunk. Judge Newburger has seen cases like his many times before. The city’s teeming slums are filled with violence, committed by poor blacks and immigrants whom decent citizens have never heard of and certainly don’t care about. This ought to be an openand -shut case. Rumors abound. White people have collected a substantial defense fund for him; the son of the slave master who owned him fifty years ago has come from hundreds of miles away to speak on his behalf; the white company he works for has volunteered to defend him against this murder charge. Sensing a juicy story, reporters from all the major city newspapers crowd the back of the courtroom. The judge, a politically ambitious man, knows he had better be careful. While he continues to gavel forcefully, the judge leans over to the court clerk and whispers, “Who is he, anyway?” The answer, if any, is lost in the din. Finally the room quiets and the bailiff tries again, this time louder, “the charge, murder in the first degree.” It is Wednesday morning, December 20, 1899, New York Criminal Court.1 “Who Is He?” For years the life of the first black man to record, and the first to gain a degree of fame through recordings, has been shrouded in mystery. His music survives on antique 01.13-72_Broo 12/17/03, 1:44 PM 15 16 lost sounds cylinders and discs, as do many references to him in early catalogs. But when and where was he born? What sort of life did he live? When did he die? And most of all, what happened at that fabled trial? We might well wonder, as the judge no doubt did, who exactly is this man? The most familiar story about him originated in the 1942 book The Music Goes Round, the reminiscences of pioneer phonograph executive Fred Gaisberg. An important figure in the early days of the industry, Gaisberg presumably knew what he was talking about when he mentioned, in passing, “the tragic Negro George W. Johnson. . . . George achieved fame and riches with just two titles. His whistle was low-pitched and fruity, like a contralto voice. His laugh was deep-bellied, lazy like a carefree darky. His life ended in tragedy . . . [he] was hanged for throwing his wife out of a window when in a drunken frenzy.”2 The story is false on nearly all key points. Johnson never achieved riches, he wasn’t hanged, and he didn’t throw his wife out a window. Since the Johnsons lived in a basement apartment, that would have been difficult. Nevertheless, Gaisberg’s colorful anecdote has frequently been repeated, first by researcher Jim Walsh in a 1944 article that recounted what little was known then of Johnson’s life.3 Walsh tried to set the record straight in a 1971 update entitled “In Justice to George W. Johnson,” after he found the recollections of another industry pioneer...

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