Full Transcript: Reverend Darla Swint on Discrimination in Restaurants and Soda Fountains
Darla: As a child on Yemans Street there’s two restaurants. There’s the polish village restaurant and right, their next door neighbor is another restaurant called Polonia's. When I was a child they didn’t even want us walking on that side of the street. They didn’t want us walking past their door. And it was a bar. Polish Village was no more than a bar and an Inn, if I’m recalling. Ms. Myrick can clarify that. Polonia’s was workers restaurant and it was said that they were communist, they were owned by the communist party, I have no validity on that for you. When we were going there, I hated my mom, I hated my aunt. Now my mom and my aunt looked like my grandmother could easily pass. And there’s sometimes would be a line at the door, the whites could go and be seated. They would make us stand, whether it was cold outside or hot. And back then there weren’t any air conditioners so you had the ceiling fans. We shopped on Joseph Campau and now it’s time to eat. And I don’t know why but they loved—and I think because it was, you know, where you could go and sit down and really get a good meal. And the food was good, I’m not going to take that away from them. And they didn’t want to serve us. They would make us wait. Just stand there. People would come in, the whites would go get a seat, we couldn’t seat ourselves. So finally, eventually things, they would start seating us. Once they would seat us they would wait on everybody in the restaurant before they would wait on a black family. And I can remember my mom, my aunt, “Missy! We were here before they were.” “Well you have to wait your turn!” You know, and I hated that. I hated my mom because I couldn’t understand for the life of me why are you taking that. You know at home she’s chastising me, doing everything, you know, hundred percent women. Now you’re sitting up here letting these white folks make a fool of you, that’s exactly how I felt. And when they would get their food, you know how you’re supposed to have a nice looking—the food would be slopped on the plate. The gravy and the mashed potatoes would be there but just slop. Like pshh, just give them the leftovers. And that’s how they would do it. They wanted extra coffee, by the time they got it they could have gone home and made some coffee, you know. So today, I cannot tell you how many times I have been invited to Polonia’s, and I’m just not ready. I cannot go into that one. Polish Village, I was just there last week Friday, I think it was. And everytime I go down those steps I relive how we were treated as children. The white men would actually come out, if they were coming out the door, and holler insulting remarks. So we would automatically just cross the street. You know, I’m not going to go, I can’t really remember what some of the remarks—then I can remember this one Halloween we got up enough nerve to go in there, to go downstairs to trick or treat and you would have thought we had robbed the bank the way they treated us. And now—you know so, in forgiving and getting passed it you don’t forget, but it’s, you know, times have drastically changed. And it’s for the good and I’m very proud of it.
Interviewer: When you look back on it now, why do you think that your mom would go to the Polish Village and the other restaurant?
Darla: I think, like I said, we didn’t see color, you know, we didn’t grow up like that. For me, coming up, it wasn’t anything for me to go like, my husband, my first husband, his mom looked white. You know the grandmother was. So it wasn’t anything for us to go into a home in our area and there would be a white woman or a white man sitting at the dining room table, which we were extensions of. So I don’t, I really don’t believe, I don’t think it was political, that they were going to be the driving forces to change this restaurant, I just think it’s where they wanted to eat, they had been raised to believe, you know, that whatever they wanted, they could have. And looking the way that they did, I think gave them the mindset that, why can’t we? We don’t look like these blacks over here. You have to remember there was always division and there still is to this day, between blacks, The light skin, better hair, and the darker ones. So they were of the lighter race with the good hair and proper talking, they’d been properly educated and everything, so why can’t we go in here and eat? But I don’t think they had the slightest idea that they were really opening the door for change to come in. Not my mom, not my aunt, they could have cared less about that, it was what they wanted. And they—you know they went through, to me it was hell. I wouldn’t have done it and I wouldn’t do it today. Someone would be being arrested. No. And like I said, I have yet to—and I want to, Friday when I came out of Polish Village I looked at the restaurant and I said, Darla you’ve got to go in there. It’s nothing but to go in and stand at the door. The food is excellent, I know that! But, they just did my mom and aunt so, so bad. And my dad, when we would get home and tell my dad that we had been there to eat, he would have a fit. He would, you know, he would tell my mother, Eloise I don’t know why you keep going in my white folks restaurants and they don’t want you in there. We had on Joseph Campau, you know drug stores? We had Holbrook, we had Cunningham’s, and on Caniff we had a great big Cunningham's with really nice soda fountain counters. In between on Joseph Campau, a five and ten which today would be comparative to like Family Dollar or something, they had a great soda fountain. The blacks were not allowed to just go and sit anywhere. We had to sit like over in the end at the corner. They would wait on us and they would be decent to us but we just couldn’t sit anywhere. If I’m remembering right, in the Cunningham’s we could. Because we used to skip out of sunday school and church, because our church sat, right where I was telling you, the funeral home was, it was our church, parking lot, funeral home. So we could—the Post Office sits right in the front, it’s where the parking lot for the bank is now. So we would skip out and go over to Cunningham’s and get cherry cokes. And if we had enough money we would get a sunday, you know we really were doing good then. But I think there we could sit anywhere. Because there would be so many of us they had to allow us to, you know. But at Neisner’s, we had to sit on the end. And I remember by the time, in the late 60s going into Neisner’s because I loved to eat at Neisner’s. See so I was pretty much like my mom in my own way. They couldn’t get served until everybody else had been served, dishes were washed and a whole lot of other things, you know, but they went. Why did we go to Neisner’s and allow ourselves to have to sit on the end when all the white folks had the front row? Got waited on before we did? So what was my justification? I liked Neisner’s. So, you know, same thing to answer your question, they liked Workers, and like I said the food was good. But when they would get it, we would eat cold peas and carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy and meatloaf. The best meal in the world, but ice cold. And back then, no carry out. You know, so. I remember this one waitress at Neisner’s, telling, he was my boyfriend then, so you always, on a day like this, you’re sitting in your third or fourth hour and all you can think about is getting to Neisner’s, and by that time we’re eating hot fudge sundays, we got money, you know. And we sat over in that little area, it was, you know, because the counter was long, and her telling us, why are you sitting over here? Why don’t you go sit somewhere else? And we all looked at each other because my bestfriends, it would be a group of us, you know, and we looked, “go on.” And we did. And from that point on we sat in Neisner’s where we wanted. You know, so, they started using that little corner end for like if people came and wanted coffee and a donut, carry out, you know, but I remember that change in there. We had a WT Grant’s up there that had a soda fountain. I don’t remember not being able to sit where we wanted. So, my mom and my aunt wanted to go to Workers’ and I liked Neisner’s there really wasn’t any difference in the service. We would sit there almost and be late to school, late to our little jobs, just to get—and by that time, like I said, we had money so we could eat hot fudge sundays, you know, or whatever we wanted—so ask me, why did I want to go to Neisner’s? I was being mistreated there too. Along with a whole bunch of—by that time, we were 16 because we were independent. We could go to Joseph Campau on Saturdays, spend our allowances, spend the day up there, come home, we could wear our cut-offs we no longer had to put on our school clothes. Because when we would go downtown on Mondays and Wednesdays you would wear your church clothes with your gloves and your little patent leathers, but to come up on Joseph Campau in that day you put back on your school clothes. So now we’re just wearing our little, you know, regular play clothes. And I remember in Neisner’s, when that waitress said well why don’t you just sit anywhere, you don’t have to sit there. So, prior to that, it was where I wanted to eat, so I think that’s the best answer for your question. That’s where they wanted to eat. They were willing to suffer the, you know, the issues out.
Interviewer: When you look back on it now, why do you think that your mom would go to the Polish Village and the other restaurant?
Darla: I think, like I said, we didn’t see color, you know, we didn’t grow up like that. For me, coming up, it wasn’t anything for me to go like, my husband, my first husband, his mom looked white. You know the grandmother was. So it wasn’t anything for us to go into a home in our area and there would be a white woman or a white man sitting at the dining room table, which we were extensions of. So I don’t, I really don’t believe, I don’t think it was political, that they were going to be the driving forces to change this restaurant, I just think it’s where they wanted to eat, they had been raised to believe, you know, that whatever they wanted, they could have. And looking the way that they did, I think gave them the mindset that, why can’t we? We don’t look like these blacks over here. You have to remember there was always division and there still is to this day, between blacks, The light skin, better hair, and the darker ones. So they were of the lighter race with the good hair and proper talking, they’d been properly educated and everything, so why can’t we go in here and eat? But I don’t think they had the slightest idea that they were really opening the door for change to come in. Not my mom, not my aunt, they could have cared less about that, it was what they wanted. And they—you know they went through, to me it was hell. I wouldn’t have done it and I wouldn’t do it today. Someone would be being arrested. No. And like I said, I have yet to—and I want to, Friday when I came out of Polish Village I looked at the restaurant and I said, Darla you’ve got to go in there. It’s nothing but to go in and stand at the door. The food is excellent, I know that! But, they just did my mom and aunt so, so bad. And my dad, when we would get home and tell my dad that we had been there to eat, he would have a fit. He would, you know, he would tell my mother, Eloise I don’t know why you keep going in my white folks restaurants and they don’t want you in there. We had on Joseph Campau, you know drug stores? We had Holbrook, we had Cunningham’s, and on Caniff we had a great big Cunningham's with really nice soda fountain counters. In between on Joseph Campau, a five and ten which today would be comparative to like Family Dollar or something, they had a great soda fountain. The blacks were not allowed to just go and sit anywhere. We had to sit like over in the end at the corner. They would wait on us and they would be decent to us but we just couldn’t sit anywhere. If I’m remembering right, in the Cunningham’s we could. Because we used to skip out of sunday school and church, because our church sat, right where I was telling you, the funeral home was, it was our church, parking lot, funeral home. So we could—the Post Office sits right in the front, it’s where the parking lot for the bank is now. So we would skip out and go over to Cunningham’s and get cherry cokes. And if we had enough money we would get a sunday, you know we really were doing good then. But I think there we could sit anywhere. Because there would be so many of us they had to allow us to, you know. But at Neisner’s, we had to sit on the end. And I remember by the time, in the late 60s going into Neisner’s because I loved to eat at Neisner’s. See so I was pretty much like my mom in my own way. They couldn’t get served until everybody else had been served, dishes were washed and a whole lot of other things, you know, but they went. Why did we go to Neisner’s and allow ourselves to have to sit on the end when all the white folks had the front row? Got waited on before we did? So what was my justification? I liked Neisner’s. So, you know, same thing to answer your question, they liked Workers, and like I said the food was good. But when they would get it, we would eat cold peas and carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy and meatloaf. The best meal in the world, but ice cold. And back then, no carry out. You know, so. I remember this one waitress at Neisner’s, telling, he was my boyfriend then, so you always, on a day like this, you’re sitting in your third or fourth hour and all you can think about is getting to Neisner’s, and by that time we’re eating hot fudge sundays, we got money, you know. And we sat over in that little area, it was, you know, because the counter was long, and her telling us, why are you sitting over here? Why don’t you go sit somewhere else? And we all looked at each other because my bestfriends, it would be a group of us, you know, and we looked, “go on.” And we did. And from that point on we sat in Neisner’s where we wanted. You know, so, they started using that little corner end for like if people came and wanted coffee and a donut, carry out, you know, but I remember that change in there. We had a WT Grant’s up there that had a soda fountain. I don’t remember not being able to sit where we wanted. So, my mom and my aunt wanted to go to Workers’ and I liked Neisner’s there really wasn’t any difference in the service. We would sit there almost and be late to school, late to our little jobs, just to get—and by that time, like I said, we had money so we could eat hot fudge sundays, you know, or whatever we wanted—so ask me, why did I want to go to Neisner’s? I was being mistreated there too. Along with a whole bunch of—by that time, we were 16 because we were independent. We could go to Joseph Campau on Saturdays, spend our allowances, spend the day up there, come home, we could wear our cut-offs we no longer had to put on our school clothes. Because when we would go downtown on Mondays and Wednesdays you would wear your church clothes with your gloves and your little patent leathers, but to come up on Joseph Campau in that day you put back on your school clothes. So now we’re just wearing our little, you know, regular play clothes. And I remember in Neisner’s, when that waitress said well why don’t you just sit anywhere, you don’t have to sit there. So, prior to that, it was where I wanted to eat, so I think that’s the best answer for your question. That’s where they wanted to eat. They were willing to suffer the, you know, the issues out.