They were unlikely crusaders. They were part of no movement, tied to no group, just ordinary citizens of Caroline County, Va. He was a construction worker who entered weekend drag races. His date for those outings was a tall, skinny young woman everyone teased as “Stringbean,” which he shortened to an affectionate “Bean.” Their dreams were simple: to marry and start a family.
There was only one problem. She was a “negro,” in the parlance of the time, and he was white. So the hammer of state government smashed down on their marriage, labeling it with an ugly word hissed in hatred: “miscegenation.”
Mildred and Richard Loving’s nine-year struggle to have their marriage validated in law only became a public event in its final stages, but in time, their love made them heroes, the kind of people about whom movies are made. They grew up in an America that forbade that love, then married in a country that was torn over whether their marriage, and the marriages of any interracial couples, should have full recognition under the law.
“Imitation of Life,” made the year Mildred Jeter was born, was one of the few Hollywood films of its time to portray a black woman with dignity.
Those cultural tensions played out in popular entertainment. Filmmakers, writers and performers challenged the status quo, turning the ground so the Lovings’ romance could take root. Those pop culture strains were chronicled at every step by Variety, which delivered a day-by-day account of the struggle between individual love and organized hate.
Richard Loving was born in 1933, Mildred Jeter six years later. Segregation was firmly embedded in the America of their childhood. The era’s casual assumptions are shocking today. In movies, on stage and on radio, interracial love (let alone sex) was taboo. Many artists doubtless chafed at such prejudice, and a few were able to use the movies to fight back. In Universal’s 1934 release “Imitation of Life,” for instance, a maid (the great, unheralded Louise Beavers) becomes the business partner of a white tycoon. But normally Hollywood saw people of color as exotic or laughable, when it saw them at all, confining them to musical interludes — easily cut for local consumption, if required — or comic relief.
Variety Archives
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In the early years of the 20th century, racism was deeply ingrained and often casual. Blackface acts were common, minstrel shows were popular. Note the quote from the N.Y. Evening World critic on the “King and Bailey” ad.
In the early years of the 20th century, racism was deeply ingrained and often casual. Blackface acts were common, minstrel shows were popular. Note the quote from the N.Y. Evening World critic on the “King and Bailey” ad.
“Darky” numbers were a staple of vaudeville and remained popular for decades.
“Darky” numbers were a staple of vaudeville and remained popular for decades.
Variety’s review of “Lulu Belle” exemplifies the conventional wisdom of the era that interracial love was impossible. The Broadway show had a mostly black cast, a rarity for Broadway in that era, and was hyped as a sensational story touching on interracial sex. The “Lulu” of the title was a “high-yaller” (mixed race) “gold-digger” who exploits her lovers and comes to a bad end. “Variety’s Own Correspondent” was unimpressed when he saw the show out of town.
“The theme of ‘Lulu Belle’ is not half as daring or as unconventional as we were led to believe,” he wrote. “There is no definite touching on any angle of miscegenation, nor is there any attempt to show the tragedy which results between the union, legal or Illicit, of whites and blacks.”
Apparently “Variety’s Own Correspondent” could not conceive of a happy union between a white man and a black woman. Calling the protagonist an “immoral and quite soulless Harlem harlot,” he continued “The ‘Vamp’ is a dusky one, and all her victims are black, too. except the last, a French racing man and millionaire, and there is nothing to show that her existence with him was tragic or poignantly palhetlc. Quite the contrary, he seemed entirely satisfied, but she again grew tired and bored.”
A watered-down version of “Lulu Belle” was made into a 1948 film starring white actress Dorothy Lamour.
Variety’s review of “Lulu Belle” exemplifies the conventional wisdom of the era that interracial love was impossible. The Broadway show had a mostly black cast, a rarity for Broadway in that era, and was hyped as a sensational story touching on interracial sex. The “Lulu” of the title was a “high-yaller” (mixed race) “gold-digger” who exploits her lovers and comes to a bad end. “Variety’s Own Correspondent” was unimpressed when he saw the show out of town.
“The theme of ‘Lulu Belle’ is not half as daring or as unconventional as we were led to believe,” he wrote. “There is no definite touching on any angle of miscegenation, nor is there any attempt to show the tragedy which results between the union, legal or Illicit, of whites and blacks.”
Apparently “Variety’s Own Correspondent” could not conceive of a happy union between a white man and a black woman. Calling the protagonist an “immoral and quite soulless Harlem harlot,” he continued “The ‘Vamp’ is a dusky one, and all her victims are black, too. except the last, a French racing man and millionaire, and there is nothing to show that her existence with him was tragic or poignantly palhetlc. Quite the contrary, he seemed entirely satisfied, but she again grew tired and bored.”
A watered-down version of “Lulu Belle” was made into a 1948 film starring white actress Dorothy Lamour.
“Ingagi” was a tawdry exploitation film that featured black “African” women, played by white actresses in blackface, were given to a gorilla as sex slaves. It was a hit of sorts, but revolted many. The concept of women being turned over to a gorilla was recycled shortly after as the more family-friendly “King Kong.”
“Ingagi” was a tawdry exploitation film that featured black “African” women, played by white actresses in blackface, were given to a gorilla as sex slaves. It was a hit of sorts, but revolted many. The concept of women being turned over to a gorilla was recycled shortly after as the more family-friendly “King Kong.”
Black moviegoers did not sit still for the outrage of “Ingagi,” and launched organized protests. In early 1931, they succeeded in having the film banned in some places. That censorship precedent, however, would eventually be used in the South to ban depictions of interracial
Black moviegoers did not sit still for the outrage of “Ingagi,” and launched organized protests. In early 1931, they succeeded in having the film banned in some places. That censorship precedent, however, would eventually be used in the South to ban depictions of interracial
The civil rights movement was well underway in the 1930s, and “Ingagi” wasn’t the only movie to encounter protests. In April 1939, protests in Milwaukee shut down showings of D.W. Griffith’s 1916 smash “Birth of a Nation,” which had bolstered racism across America and led to a revival of the Klu Klux Klan. In December of the same year, protests got a Kansas City radio show cancelled for its racist content.
The civil rights movement was well underway in the 1930s, and “Ingagi” wasn’t the only movie to encounter protests. In April 1939, protests in Milwaukee shut down showings of D.W. Griffith’s 1916 smash “Birth of a Nation,” which had bolstered racism across America and led to a revival of the Klu Klux Klan. In December of the same year, protests got a Kansas City radio show cancelled for its racist content.
Censors in the South kept a watchful eye for interracial couplings onscreen, and tried to shut them down. This March 31, 1942 story from Daily Variety, “Two Versions of Moon To Overcome Color Line Resistance,” describes the producers of “The Moon and Sixpence” cutting two versions (one “white”) of the film to address Southern sensibilities.
Censors in the South kept a watchful eye for interracial couplings onscreen, and tried to shut them down. This March 31, 1942 story from Daily Variety, “Two Versions of Moon To Overcome Color Line Resistance,” describes the producers of “The Moon and Sixpence” cutting two versions (one “white”) of the film to address Southern sensibilities.
One of the films hit by censorship was Fox’s “Pinky,” one of a spate of post-WWII films that addressed “the Negro problem.” A hastily formed censorship board in Marshall, Texas, banned the film and prosecuted the theater owner who booked it.
One of the films hit by censorship was Fox’s “Pinky,” one of a spate of post-WWII films that addressed “the Negro problem.” A hastily formed censorship board in Marshall, Texas, banned the film and prosecuted the theater owner who booked it.
The Motion Picture Assn. siezed on the Marshall Texas “Pinky” case as a cause celebre, but not because it was interested in advancing interracial marriage rights. The MPA was interested in a test case to end local censorship of films and the ability of local communities to ban them outright. This Variety article never mentions why the film was banned.
The Motion Picture Assn. siezed on the Marshall Texas “Pinky” case as a cause celebre, but not because it was interested in advancing interracial marriage rights. The MPA was interested in a test case to end local censorship of films and the ability of local communities to ban them outright. This Variety article never mentions why the film was banned.
“Gone With the Wind,” released the year Mildred was born, fit in tidily with Hollywood’s treatment of black-white relations, with its black slaves devoted to pleasing “massa” and white men too gentlemanly to take black mistresses. But popular as it was, “Gone With the Wind’s” fantasia of the Old South was soon met by a counter-narrative. World War II’s bigotry- fueled horrors made a strong impression on those who returned from the fight, ushering in a serious attitude shift that took root just as Richard and Mildred were growing up.
In Hollywood that led to a brief but potent cycle of “Negro problem pictures” like 1949’s “Pinky,” commended by Variety’s critic, who said, “[It] meets the [discrimination] problem head-on and depicts forthrightly some of its ugliest aspects.” Stars Jeanne Crain and William Lundigan were both white, but Crain played a nurse who had been “passing” for white. That was enough to enrage the guardians of Jim Crow. On Oct. 25, 1950, Variety reported the arrest of a Marshall, Texas, exhibitor for screening “Pinky” “after a suddenly formed censor board had banned the picture,” earning a conviction on three counts of violating state law.
FROM THE ARCHIVES
On Oct. 25, 1950, Variety reported the arrest of a Marshall, Texas, exhibitor for screening “Pinky” “after a suddenly formed censor board had banned the picture,” earning a conviction on three counts.
On Oct. 25, 1950, Variety reported the arrest of a Marshall, Texas, exhibitor for screening “Pinky” “after a suddenly formed censor board had banned the picture,” earning a conviction on three counts.
Such forces of intolerance were beginning to lose power, though. The tragedy of Emmett Till and the heroism of Rosa Parks awakened millions. The federal government proved willing to step in where states lagged behind, in the Supreme Court’s rejection of school segregation in Brown v. Board of Education, and in President Eisenhower’s decision to send in federal troops to back up the decision. The pushback against American apartheid was ramping up.
By all accounts, Mildred and Richard were largely heedless of these larger societal pressures. As dramatized in the Focus Features motion picture “Loving,” their courtship was easy and unforced, befitting what their daughter Peggy would simply describe as “love at first sight.”
Many years later, Mildred told an interviewer, “I didn’t know anything about the civil- rights movement. The only thing I know is what everybody saw on the news.” She and her true love would themselves be on the news soon enough.
