Remix Cleveland: The Cleveland Music Sector and Its Economic Impact – Full Report (CSU 2011)

The full report is here

The executive summary is here

Remix Cleveland: The Cleveland Music Sector and Its Economic Impact – Full Report

Iryna Lendel, Cleveland State University
Sharon Bliss, Cleveland State University
Candice Clouse, Cleveland State University
Merissa Piazza, Cleveland State University
Ziona Austrian, Cleveland State University
Kathryn W. Hexter, Cleveland State University
Renee Constantino
Matthew Hrubey

Abstract

This study was commissioned by the Community Partnership for Arts and Culture (CPAC)as a starting point for gaining a deeper understanding of the different sectors of the Cleveland arts scene in Cuyahoga county. Its objective is to understand the Cleveland Music Sector, delineate its components, learn its dynamics, and assess the economic impact of music events and venues in Cuyahoga county.

Suggested Citation

Iryna Lendel, Sharon Bliss, Candice Clouse, Merissa Piazza, Ziona Austrian, Kathryn W. Hexter, Renee Constantino, and Matthew Hrubey. “Remix Cleveland: The Cleveland Music Sector and Its Economic Impact – Full Report” Urban Publications (2011).
Available at: http://works.bepress.com/sharon_bliss/21

“Carr Talk” – Charles V. Carr article

Cleveland Magazine article about Charles V. Carr. “Charlie Carr, city councilman for 30 years, got his start by promising to protect the numbers racket. The skillful, wily leader also helped make Cleveland the birthplace of the black political rights movement. “

The link is here

Carr Talk

Charlie Carr, city councilman for 30 years, got his start by promising to protect the numbers racket. The skillful, wily leader also helped make Cleveland the birthplace of the black political rights movement.

One summer afternoon in 1956 or ’57, my father was totaling up the money from the day-shift waitress in the tavern he owned on Scovill Avenue. He saw my eyes grow wide at the stack of bills he was counting. Growing up, I must have seen him do it so many times before — but I was entering puberty and taking an interest in the opposite sex, so I knew I needed to dress better. Thus, my growing interest in money: There was this cool pair of Stetson shoes that I wanted to be the first in my school to own.

“Son,” my father simply said, “those folks down in Washington print way too much of this stuff for a sucker not to have a pile of it.” That was all the economic advice he ever gave me, and it proved to be all I ever needed.

Just then, his friend, attorney and business associate of sorts, Charles V. “Charlie” Carr — who also was the Ward 17 city councilman — walked up to the end of the bar, where we were standing. Overhearing our conversation, Carr reinforced the message.

“Listen to your father, young man — he’s telling you straight,” Carr said, “and don’t you ever forget this: The best thing you can do for poor people is to not be one of them.”

Then, as if to visually punctuate his comment, Carr took a large wad of cash out of his pocket and handed it to my father. “From yesterday,” he said. “Count it.”

“No need to, Charlie,” my father replied, “but what are you doing dropping off?”

“Lem had to take his mother to the doctor, but I had to come past here on my way down to City Hall anyway,” Carr said, not quite answering. “I’ll see you at the ward club meeting tonight, right?” he asked as he went out the door.

Now, I can’t say for certain, but what I’d most likely witnessed was a payout in the “digits” business, an insider’s term for the illegal lottery commonly known as the “numbers racket.” Virtually everyone in black neighborhoods “played the numbers.” Watering holes doubled as booking parlors. Operators like my father received a cut of the winnings whenever someone “hit.” And someone must have hit big. My father fanned 25 or 30 $100 bills before putting them into his safe.

At that point in his career, Carr was arguably the most politically powerful black man in Cleveland. He certainly was the most skillful and clever — if not always the most liked.

Carr had served more than 10 years on Cleveland City Council. He’d won his seat from Republican W.O. Walker, then the publisher of the Call & Post newspaper, on his third attempt in 1945. His winning campaign promise: to introduce legislation that would make it virtually impossible for the police to raid and arrest numbers operators. His argument was simple: If Catholic churches could host bingo games and casino nights, why couldn’t blacks play the numbers without fear of arrest?

There’s a saying that when a smart politician sees a parade forming, he jumps in front and starts leading. That’s exactly what Carr did in 1947. The May Co. did not hire black sales clerks, but returning black soldiers were demanding change. Picket lines formed in front of the store — black folks carrying signs that read, “Don’t Shop Where You Can’t Work.” Carr was one of the organizers, and my mother was carrying a sign.

My father was one of the dozen or so black men — bar owners, numbers runners, professional boxers — standing silently across Euclid Avenue (a few with pistols in their pockets) observing. Some brought their children along: I was 4 years old as I watched history unfold.

The white police officers glowered at the knot of black men, and the black men glowered right back. I recall Carr crossing the street to briefly huddle with the black men and then walking over and speaking with the police officers before going back to talk to the demonstrators. The term “shuttle diplomacy” had yet to be invented, but Carr had already mastered it. In short order, May Co. officials agreed to hire three black sales clerks.

The next month, I was among the first group of black kids to ride the merry-go-round at the previously segregated Euclid Beach Park. In 1946, Carr had introduced an ordinance to make it illegal for amusement park operators to discriminate. By the summer of ’47, after some protests that turned violent, that battle was also won.

Just as Birmingham, Ala., is known as the birthplace of the black civil rights movement, Cleveland can claim to be the birthplace of the black political rights movement. That is due in large part to Carr. The proof was the 1967 election of Carl B. Stokes as the first black mayor of a major American city. Arnold Pinkney, who was Stokes’ campaign manager, says that victory would not have been possible without Carr.

“After we won, black politicians from all over the country came to Cleveland to learn how we’d pulled it off,” Pinkney says. “We’d take them to talk to Carl, and then to talk to Charlie. They’d sit at his feet, and they’d listen, and they’d learn how to win.”

Carr worked his magic by building on the tactics developed by Clevelander John O. Holly Jr., a pioneering black organizer of the ’30s and ’40s, and mixing them with strategies of Southern civil rights crusaders. He learned how to leverage the strength of the small number of black elected officials by making strategic alliances with white politicians when it suited his purpose. He knew it took money to make the political machinery work, and he was shrewd enough to raise what he needed. The backbone of all political organizations is the precinct committee members — my father was proud to be one — and Carr kept a firm grip on them via money and patronage.

However, Carr had his detractors. Businessman Fred Crosby says Carr was always the smartest man in a room — and if anyone forgot that fact, Carr didn’t mind reminding them. Although he only stood about 5-foot-7 and was slight of build, Carr dominated any gathering.

“If you got into a business deal with Charlie,” Crosby adds, “you just might come out OK — but it was guaranteed that Charlie was going to come out OK. Whatever it took to win, he’d do it. I never recall him losing.”

However, in 1975, Carr (then the longest-serving member of City Council, which made him the “dean”) finally did lose — to the young firebrand Lonnie Burten. Carr was 72, not in the best of health, and took Burten for granted. While Carr was the master of finesse, Burten was riding the crest of the black power movement. The brash loud-talker organized college students to help him trounce Carr.

Even afterward, Carr mentored up-and-coming black politicians. After one of then-council president George Forbes’ legendary displays of temper, Carr called him with some simple advice: “George, quit pissing on every goddamn fireplug you come to.” Forbes says that one comment taught him how to pick his battles.

Upon Carr’s death in 1987, Carl Stokes paid him the ultimate tribute. “Whatever the problem was, he would try to make the opposing parties see there was something in the solution of the problem that each one could find a benefit [from],” the former mayor said. “That is the basic fundamental science of politics: compromise. He was the master, and I learned so much from him.”

Today’s leaders could learn from Carr’s legacy, too. This past spring, when Jerry McFaul was forced out as sheriff, the 1,600 Democratic precinct committee members in Cuyahoga County had the duty to meet and select a replacement. Two eminently qualified men, Bob Reid, the city manager and former police chief of Bedford (who happens to be white), and Clayton Harris, the chief of the Tri-C police department (who happens to be black), squared off for the job. When Reid won, complaints were heard throughout the black community. Yet fewer than 500 party members had voted — and the turnout of black precinct committee members was especially low.

Charlie Carr would have gotten them to show up and vote.

Hough: Building and Tension by Luke Ondish

From CWRU

http://www.case.edu/artsci/sixties/luke.html

Hough: Building and Tension
by Luke Ondish

Hough was annexed by the city of Cleveland in 1872. It is 2 square miles in area bounded by Euclid and Superior on its North and South sides and E 55th and E 105th on its West and East Sides. The summer of 1966 would see Hough in flames. Arson and looting were rampant, a martial law imposed by mobs walking the streets. Those that sought to escape the danger of the riots could count on no protection while policemen would seem to attack at random. The four day race riot would cost the city millions of dollars in damage and several lives. Though in 1950 Hough was still a predominately white middle class neighborhood, by 1960 the story was very different1. It used to be a fashionable neighborhood, known for its large single-family homes, wherein its residents lived comfortably. The streets were busy, but pleasantly so; it was not the overcrowded, deteriorated neighborhood that would eventually exploded into violence.

The neighborhood would become overcrowded. The community would become divided. Eventually, it would not be able to support itself, and it would break. The economic, political, and social, and geographic factors responsible for Hough’s decline, irritated by a lapsing post-war economy give rise to a cyclical dynamic taking the neighborhood on a downward spiral. The combination of deterioration and division in the community would irritate each other until Hough could take no more.

After the stock market crash of 1929, Cleveland was subject to the same destitution as other cities across the nation. Also like other cities, it rebounded in the war time economy of World War II. The city’s factories produced planes, tanks, artillery, bombs, binoculars, and telescopes for the war effort. The city enjoyed a stable industrial base as a producer of machine tools, electrical goods, and metal products. It had a large supply of trained workers, low-cost power and water, and was located within 500 miles of half the population of the United States.

Cleveland’s war time population swelled with ranks of Appalachian whites and southern blacks traveling to the city for work in the factories. Homes that once housed single families were made to accommodate several, beginning the pattern of overuse and overcrowding. The problem would worsen when the factories would close and returning servicemen would be eager to start families. Many families were forced to move where housing was cheapest2.  

The once owner-occupied buildings in Hough were bought up by outsiders as the former owners passed away. Living away from the community, the new owners would have less incentive to fix them and make them more livable. The housing grew old and suffered a lack of maintenance. Many tenants could ill afford to move out of dilapidated housing. Often several families had to share converted single-family dwellings. These factors thus enacted a sort of skimming off the top of the economic ladder. Those that could afford to do so moved to better kept areas. With Hough’s population having less money, the tax based was significantly reduced. The area could not afford to shift its course, and by 1960 was in need of reform3.

Geographically, Hough was disadvantaged. Hough Street, the area’s main artery for traffic, was constantly congested. Lake shore traffic would find its way in along Crawford Avenue, which intersected Hough Street. Busy streets in themselves are not inherently bad for neighborhoods, but Hough ran right through the middle of the most concentrated residential districts. It is common that main arteries form boundaries. Cutting the districts in half like this greatly diminished the sense of unity felt by residents of the districts. This made communities much harder to mobilize for their common interests4.

With very little land left undeveloped, overcrowding in Hough’s residential buildings had little hope of relief by expansion. Industry was also impeded from growth because of this. When new space was required, industry had to settle where it could. Many small outcroppings of industry were scattered along and among residential districts. Such settlements would bring more traffic to neighborhoods, as well as noise, fumes, and dust. This contributed to the deterioration of living conditions5.

Hough has a favorable location within the city. It is twenty minutes by bus from the heart of Cleveland’s business and industrial district, ten minutes from what then was Western Reserve and Case Universities as well as surrounding museums, and fifteen minutes from Lake Erie. It was the organization and layout within the neighborhood that was problematic. Without and official local government, matters had to be seen to by local community leaders. With the diminished sense of community due to the splitting of the residential districts, motivation for projects was lacking6. Thus, the first cyclical dynamic is revealed.

Hough was also reflecting a need economically. Unemployment was high and 30% of heads of households were not employed. The rate of unskilled non-white heads of households was 16.7, while the rate for whites was 4.2. One third of the unemployed population was concentrated in the southeast corner7. Along with the fact that 60% of the residents in the northwest and southeast parts of Hough were white while the area from the southwest to northeast is over 60% non-white, there is evidence for further division in the community8. The different racial categories live apart from each other and in different economic conditions, the former reinforcing the alienation that can be felt from the latter.

The percentage of semi-skilled and unskilled workers in two tracts (L-3 and L-4) adjacent to each other out of the ten census tracts comprising Hough was 69.2. Tracts R-6 and R-9 had a rate of 51.8%. L-2 and L-4 have high rates of unemployment. These tracts are the most densely populated. This suggests a wide range of lifestyles within areas of concentrated population and groups of occupation types. This is a factor than can create dissonance in a community and make it harder to come together to realize goals.   

The rate of self employed males in 1950 was five percent. By the late 50s, it had dropped to 1.5. This is evidence that the economy could not support as many businesses, and those that would otherwise start their own business were forced to work for a larger operation. This severity of this figure is greater when it is considered that the population during that time also grew by 10 percent. Even though the population grew, the economy was shrinking, stretching the financial resources of Hough very thin.

Not only did different races have large percents with different types of jobs, but large percents of each race’s constituents worked in different areas. Most of the working population of Hough worked on the East side of Cleveland. However, the difference in the amount of white and non-white heads of household that work in East Cleveland was statistically significant. Seventy Seven percet of non-white heads of household held jobs there compared to the 82.7% of white heads of household9. The authority figures of the homes, those that would be most influential in how other members (especially children) view others, have fewer opportunities to interact with each other. This loss limits the ability of persons from different backgrounds to combat the barriers that make relating to each other more difficult to begin with, constituting another fragmenting cycle.

The division between communities was strong was considering social and cultural factors. Two determining factors of differing social classes are occupation and education of populations. The difference in types of occupations held by persons in different areas was significant. In areas of concentrated white populations the rate of employed persons in sales, clerical, professional and managerial positions was 36.6. In areas of concentrated non-white populations the figure was 19.3%.

Irritating the division amongst communities in post-war industrial cities is an alienation felt towards the rest of the county. An attitude of “we helped you in war, now where are you when we need help?” proliferates. This attitude gives populations an insular mindset. They believe that their possible reality consists only of the deterioration surrounding them, and no one is interested in their well being any longer.

The rate of persons over the age of 25 having some college education was 21.3% in white areas, while the average figure for all of the tracts in Hough was just over 10. There is a significant statistical difference between the education level and occupation type of whites and non-whites. This shows that social class was likely to be divided along racial line. Because of this the difference would feel more distinct, and the boundaries more daunting to breach10.

A substantial factor in the drawing of social and cultural boundaries are the rates of involvement and apparent investment in the community. It was found that non-whites have a much higher rate of membership to local organizations. This could mean a group connected to the church, a fraternal organization, or what is predominant, a labor union.11

On average, whites were much more likely to have plans to move. The most extreme example of this is the tract L-4, from which 61.1% of whites as opposed to 16.2% of non-whites had plans to move. It was also recorded that non-whites were twice as likely as whites to buy a house.

Another factor which correlates with investment in a community is relatives that also inhabit the area. The percentage of whites with relatives living in Hough was 38.2. The percentage of non-whites who shared the area with relatives was 60.5. A larger percentage of white persons had relatives outside of Hough than non-whites. Many more whites than non-whites also had no relatives in Cleveland.12

In 1960, half of the population of the Hough was no longer there13. Ninety percent of the non-whites had lived there for five or less years, while roughly 60% of whites had lived there for as long. With a great bulk of the population having spent less than five years in the area, very few families were likely to have any kind of history with Hough14. Less familiarity leaves more room for apathy of citizens for a community, which would decrease investment in the communities. Further evidence of a lack investment in communities is the frequent withdrawal from and enrollment in new schools of high school age students.

At the start of the 1960s, Addison Junior High School faced a major concern in locating and counseling in-migrant students (a term whose definition subsumes any student who moved into the school system 2 or less years ago) to help them adapt to the new environment. With most students possessing an average of a third grade reading level, students needed all of the attention that could possibly be given to them. This was very difficult to accommodate due to the unstable conditions in which the students lived at home in areas of high crime and divorce rates. Addison was fed by the area making up Police Zone 531, recognized as leading the city of Cleveland in terms of crime rate, and murder rate specifically15.

When polled about how they felt toward their neighborhood, 62% of non-whites said they thought Hough was a good place to raise children. Only 27% of whites agreed. Roughly a quarter of these dissenters cited “poor race situation” as their reason, in reference to the disproportionate amount of non-white residents. The boundary implied here is also reflected in the fact that a greater portion of non-whites allow their children to play outside of the home than whites. 

Along more cultural lines, there was also a religious boundary. The majority of whites were Catholic, while the majority of non-whites were Baptists. It is likely that this difference was accounted for mostly by the fact that most new non-white families(and most non-white were new) had moved up from the southern parts of the country. These families came to Cleveland hoping to leave behind the South’s caste system-like conventions for a better chance at a better job. However most were quick to realize that northern whites frequently held the same perceptions of caste.16

Leisure time that was not given to local organizations was frequently conducive to solitariness, at least between small areas if not families or even individuals. The three most common leisure time activities were watching television, reading, and fixing up the house. Over three quarters of the population was recorded in a census as watching television every day.17

Politically, Hough also finds itself in a difficult place. Hough itself does not have a local government. The name is used to refer to a collection of neighborhoods rather than any political unit. Therefore it must rely on larger city government if it hopes for political recourse. Many blacks already had this predilection toward larger government because benefits that could be sought if income was low were issued by federal government.

This dynamic situated blacks to swim against a political current. Many government officials tended to see a mass appeal to government for economic support as evocative of federalized health care programs common to socialism and the sort of big statism that would become highly stigmatized as the decade progressed. The Cold War sentiments afloat in the government served as an unfortunate and detrimental context in which to seek political recourse. A further impediment was that in the elections immediately preceding the 1960s, blacks had voted against giving more power to the city government that could help them. Many feared the dilution of power that could be gained by the formation of smaller organizations within the community.

Ralph Besse, owner of the Cleveland Electric Illuminating Company, was a businessman and philanthropy advocate that helped organizations such as the United Freedom Movement and the Citizens United for Adequate Welfare with ideas for the community. In a speech given to the Rotary Club of Cleveland, Besse showed great insight into the city’s political climate. He would say that blacks deserved to be free from discrimination, and most white business would admit to this. It was evident, however, that whites had great difficulty overcoming prejudices because many would wait until a situation became bad enough that self interest and practical rather than moral concerns would motivate them to promote change. Even then, the change pushed for was limited and gradual.

The Greater Cleveland Association Foundation would pay heed to Besse’s words. They attempted to seek recourse through philanthropy but found difficulty communicating with the black community. Cleveland Metropolitan Services was commissioned to perform a study of the black community. The study, however, failed to touch on issues of great concern such as housing. The lack of communication is probably due to the fact that blacks were failed to be invited to the initial meetings of the study. Yet another inefficiency of the GACF was evidenced by sentiments expressed by several members at a meeting. This is best represented by a statement one was quoted giving: “these trustees of Cleveland Foundation funds and these advisors always worry about what some dead man wanted us to do with his money.”18

The political sphere faces difficulty in providing neighborhoods with needed funding. This only adds to the disillusion of these neighborhoods’ residents, cementing their mentalities in modes of division and helplessness. On July 18th of 1966 the tension in Hough became too great and race riots broke out. The incident that sparked the riot was a dispute in which a white worker refused to serve a black patron a glass of water at a café along Hough Street. An argument ensued and before long escalated to the point where police could not prevent conflict. Rock throwing, looting, vandalism and arson spread throughout the Hough area, and repeated the following evening. On the evening of the 20th, the National Guard was called in to quell the violence. By the time the riots were completely subdued on the 25th, 4 people had been killed, approximately 30 had been injured and 300 arrested after over 240 fires had been reported.19

Notes

1 “Hough” Encyclopedia of Cleveland History CWRU. 20 Nov. 2005 <http://ech.cwru.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=H6>.

2 Keating, W. D., Norman Krumholz, and David C. Perry, Cleveland: A Metropolitan Reader Kent, Ohio: Kent State UP, 1995, 32

3 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 14-17.

4 6″Summary of the Preliminary Plan for the Hough Community” Cleveland, Ohio: City Planing Commission, 1957, 2.

5 “Summary of the Preliminary Plan for the Hough Community” Cleveland, Ohio: City Planing Commission, 1957, 5.

6 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 42.

7 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 41.

8 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 13.

9 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 42-43.

10 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 35-36.

11 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 59.

12 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 9-10.

13 “Hough” Encyclopedia of Cleveland History CWRU. 20 Nov. 2005 <http://ech.cwru.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=H6>.

14 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 9-10.

15 “Great Cities – Grey Areas Program” Cleveland, Ohio: Hough Community Project, 1960, 3-4.

16 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 29.

17 Sussman, Marvin B., and R. C. White, Hough, Cleveland, Ohio: A Study of Social Life and Change Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Western Reserve University, 1959, 64.

18 Rose, Kenneth W., The Politics of Social Reform in Cleveland, 1945-1967 : Civil Rights, Welfare Rights, and the Response of Civic Leaders Cleveland, Ohio: The Press of Case Western Reserve University, 1988, 226-32.

19 “The Hough Riots” Encyclopedia of Cleveland History CWRU 20 Nov. 2005 <http://ech.cwru.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=HR3>.

Money and Mobilization: Volunteers in the Stokes Mayoral Campaign by Elis Ribeiro

From CWRU

http://www.case.edu/artsci/sixties/elis.html

Money and Mobilization: Volunteers in the Stokes Mayoral Campaign
by Elis Ribeiro

Carl Stokes’s narrow win could not have happened without the mobilization of his large African-American bloc vote and the small but significant portion of the white vote. These votes were delivered in 1967 by volunteers who offered their time, strength, and money in order to guarantee victory. While other important factors affected Clevelanders in their voting choices, it was the work of volunteers, who physically brought out the votes for Stokes and gave him the winning edge in both the primaries and general election of 1967. By drawing on their efforts from Stokes’s first mayoral race in 1965, volunteers were able to perfect their campaigning system. During his victory speech, Carl Stokes referred to his supporters, stating that “never has one man owed so much to so many.”1 While it may seem like political jargon, his narrow victory over Republican Seth Taft clearly shows the importance of Stokes’s volunteers.
The grass roots support for Carl Stokes’s mayoral campaign began even before he had intended to run. In fact, it was because of two women that Stokes entered the 1965 mayoral race. Geraldine Williams and Jean Murrell Capers, both active community leaders in Cleveland, went to Columbus, Ohio, where Carl Stokes was a State Representative, to convince him to run for Mayor of Cleveland. Stokes responded by telling them to get 20,000 signatures, 5,000 more than what was needed to run as an independent.2 The women returned to Cleveland and were able to gather about 25,000 signatures, with a significant white percentage.3 Carl Stokes realized he had a legitimate chance in the election and used these signatures to enter his Independent bid into the 1965 Mayoral race.

Stokes had decided to run as an independent, instead of as a Democrat, because it would mean that he could bypass the primaries, causing a four-way general election, where he could try to secure a plurality of votes in his favor. However, because he had registered as an Independent, he had no support from the political institutions that had helped to put him into the Ohio State Legislature. Therefore, he had to rely on his inexperienced but passionate volunteers. Through their work, his campaign became entirely a grass-roots effort.

To enlist volunteers, the Stokes for Mayor Committee had various means of reaching out to people. They had applications in the headquarters office, solicited through mailings, and had advertisements in the newspaper asking for volunteers. Outside supporters also helped them gain volunteers by holding speeches and rallying events.4 One volunteer said that “as each person was called in by Mr. Stokes himself or someone close to him, they stuck and brought in others.”5

In regards to African-Americans, the main strategy was to register voters and then get them to the polls on Election Day. They were the group that Stokes needed because they constituted almost 40% of the Cleveland population.6 The campaign committee, under the guidance of Marvin Chernoff, a 35 year-old office machine salesman turned volunteer, created an organizational hierarchy to have as much control and activity occurring at the rank-and-file level as possible.7 The highest level for a volunteer was as a block supervisor, who would maintain supervision over thirty to forty neighboring houses. Underneath them would be street captains who helped the block supervisors with organizing their streets.8 Together, they would blanket the neighborhoods with street signs, brochures, and visits reminding neighbors when to vote. The hierarchy structure allowed communication to flow easily among those involved in the campaign.9

In the 1965 Mayoral race however, Stokes lost the election against Ralph Locher, the incumbent Democratic mayor, by less than one half of one percent of the votes. Still he finished second out of the four candidates. The loss was actually beneficial to Stokes because it proved that he had a strong chance at a later victory. Many African Americans, who did not vote, had done so because they felt that Stokes did not have any chance to win.10 With the narrow loss, many people later realized that their vote could make a difference.

It was also a learning experience for all the volunteers involved. They had learned that the Block Supervisor strategy worked to mobilize voters, but more importantly showed what areas needed more support. Furthermore, the results showed that Stokes needed to draw more white supporters, of which only 3% voted for him in 1965.11 By applying these lessons to 1967, Stokes’s organization, with the help of outside volunteers, would be able to draw out the necessary support for his victory.

Between 1965 and 1967, certain events came to the forefront of voters’ concerns. During the beginning of his administration, Mayor Locher developed a sorry record in regards to African-American concerns. City Hall had been unresponsive to the Negro community from the very beginning. Urban Renewal on the East Side was so disastrous that U.S. Secretary Weaver cut off federal funding coming into the city. His administration was already facing strong criticism early on.12

What brought racial issues to the height of Clevelanders’ concerns was the Hough Riots. For Cleveland, the riots symbolized the need for better race relations and law and order. The Riots started on July 18, 1966, when a Cafe in Hough refused to serve an African-American customer water. For a week, Hough was in chaos. By the time the rioting stopped, there were four people dead and millions of dollars in property damage.13

Mayor Locher’s response to the riots was that they had been fueled by Communists. He based this claim on the fact that his investigators had found a connection between the rioters and members of the W.E.B. Dubois Club in Cleveland, a Communist front.14 However, even with this conclusion, no one was charged for instigating the riots. Carl Stokes reacted to Locher’s response by demanding a federal investigation. He wrote to the U.S. Attorney General saying, “As a former assistant prosecutor for four years, I refuse to believe that if the County Grand Jury had evidence to support its conclusions [that Communists instigated the riots] that there isn’t an Ohio law under which those persons could be charged.”15 Others in Cleveland knew that Locher’s claim that it was a communist based problem was used just to avoid the real problems in Cleveland. “Actually, the living conditions were the things that caused the riots,” the Hough Community Relations Director said “They [the rioters] didn’t need any Communists to tell them they were suffering.”16

As racial tensions escalated, Mayor Locher continually refused to meet with African-American community leaders. Other events throughout that year only perpetuated the idea that someone was needed to address these racial issues. By 1967, it became apparent that Mayor Locher would need to start addressing these issues, or get out of the way for someone who could.

In 1967, the mayoral election was receiving national attention because of the strong possibility that Stokes could become the first African-American mayor of a major city. This time around, Stokes decided to run as a Democrat, not as an Independent. He explained his decision by saying “a realistic appraisal of the political situation indicates that the next mayor in Cleveland will be chosen in the Democratic primary.”17 He then explained, “High national officials of the Democratic Party have urged me to enter the primary. So have many rank and file Democrats, and thousands of good citizens whose only concern is the future of Cleveland.”18 In fact, President Johnson had actually helped to persuade Stokes to run as a Democrat, telling Carl that he would have his full support when elected Mayor. 19 Therefore, Stokes assumed that by staying within the party, he would be able to gain their support throughout the election process.

However, little support and much resistance came from the Cuyahoga County Democratic Party (CCDP) throughout this race. During the week before the primaries, the CCDP sent out newsletters stating that Stokes would become the Dictator of Cleveland. It said Stokes would allow Dr. Martin Luther King to take over the city. It asked “Do you want Dr. Martin Luther King and his disciples running your lives? Keep Martin Luther King out of City Hall. Ralph Locher is the mayor of all the people.”20 Furthermore, the CCDP refused to allow Stokes speak at any Party meetings. They claimed that because he had previously run as an Independent, they were entitled to refuse him entrance into party events.21

Unfortunately for the CCDP, this action only brought more positive attention to Stokes. Supporters held protest rallies and demanded that Stokes be allowed a chance to talk. One woman was quoted saying that “It looks like they put the party ahead of the people – the people want to hear Stokes, and the voice of the people should be honored.”22 At a protest rally in Ward 10, someone else argued that “We feel Mr. (Albert S.) [sic] Porter [President of the CCDP] has made a racial issue out of this matter, since Porter permits Mayor Locher, who the party endorsed, and Frank Celeste [the other Democratic Primary candidate], who was not endorsed, to speak before the Democratic Ward clubs, but denies Stokes the same right.”23 Therefore, instead of relying on his party, Stokes had to depend on his volunteers.

Voter drives in African-American neighborhoods were started as soon as Stokes had announced his candidacy. A united effort from the NAACP, The Urban League, and the United Pastor’s Association established a coordinated program to register voters in the inner city. Martin Luther King and other African American figures came to Cleveland to show their support and urge people to register to vote. 24 Later on CORE, which had a strong local chapter in Cleveland, joined with the UPA and SCLC with its mobilization efforts. They donated “several thousand dollars in equipment and supplies. This would include staff workers, researches door to door workers, community relations, and transportation workers some of whom would work on a volunteer basis.”25 In fact, CORE had a $175,000 grant from the Ford Foundation in order to register black voters.26

Call & Post, July 15, 1967. 12A Courtesy of WRHS
Even small community groups came together to start their own registration drives. One early group was called “Teens for Stokes”. A group of about 300 high school students came together for gathering signatures for the candidacy petition to help Stokes file as a candidate. After he announced his candidacy, they held social events to gather support. For example, they would hold dance-offs where teams would compete against each other, dancing to live bands. 27  These events brought the community together and let people have fun while registering to vote, donating money or signing up to volunteer.28

These efforts were separate from those of Stokes’s own mobilization campaign. They launched a voter registration project in eight East-Side wards. This effort began early and was carried on very quietly. The Stokes for Mayor effort made sure to separate themselves from the outside groups, for fear of the backlash among white voters.29 They first targeted citizens who had been dropped off of the voting registers for changing their name, moving, or not voting in the past four years.30 Using the 1965 Block Supervisor model, this time they were able to have over 2,000 supervisors who worked the streets in a massive effort to contact every person on their block with a listed telephone.31 After someone registered, they received a bright orange sticker saying “Registered, STOKES, Vote Primary, Vote STOKES”32

Besides simply signing people up on their own, volunteers also drove citizens to the Board of Elections offices to register. Again organized by the united NAACP, SCLC, and CORE efforts, car-pools took thousands of voters in the downtown area to register. In a period of three weeks, it was estimated that over 3,000 people were driven downtown to register, with an average of 177 people per day. One of the most targeted areas was the Hough neighborhood, which saw 432 new registrants due to the car pools.33 However, the city did try to prevent these efforts by forcing car pool drivers to move their cars, threatening to ticket them.34

To gain white voter support, Carl Stokes needed financial resources to create mainstream ads and appeal. Outside volunteer organizations were important to this financial support. The added emphasis for funding is seen by the increase in contributions between 1965 and 1967. In 1965, Stokes had only $40,000 for his campaign, but in 1967 he had over $250,000.35 While much of this money was donated by business leaders who had been swayed by Stokes’s personality, many significant donations were made by collections from the communities. Any donation was appreciated, and people were ready to give Stokes their financial support. Less than a week after Stokes filed as a candidate, a thirteen-year-old girl donated her entire piggy bank savings to his campaign.36 Every little bit did add up for support.

Professionals also came together and donated considerable amounts to Stokes’ campaign. For example, Lawyers for Stokes donated 5,000 dollars to his campaign. Also, Dents for Stokes, a group of dentists, donated 5,350 dollars.37 Members or labor groups came together to donate as well. A group of African-American plumbers in the Cleveland area each sent checks for undisclosed amounts to the Stokes’ for Mayor committee.38 African-American professionals would also hold fundraising dinners to raise thousands of dollars as well. 39

Letterhead of Feminine Touch, 1967. Courtesy of WRHS
Others developed unique and different methods of fundraising. For example, “The Feminine Touch,” also known as “Thins for Stokes,” was a group started by one woman. Similar to a pyramid program, she asked one hundred women to head up nine teams with thirty-six workers.40 Between September 18th and 27th, each woman involved was asked to find ten friends to donate $1. In turn, each of her friends was to ask ten friends for a donation and to recruit ten more friends 41 With 46 members on each team raising $10, each team would have $460. If each team brought in their required amount, the one hundred teams would have raised $46,000. The idea symbolized how simply donating a small amount could do so much. In two weeks, they were able to raise over $24,000.42

The Stokes campaign adopted this idea by promoting people to donate one dollar to the campaign through his own ads.43 Whenever the campaign received a dollar, they replied with a thank-you letter. The letter acknowledged that “One dollar can still buy four quarts of milk, twenty nickel candy bars, three packs of cigarettes, or a night at the movies.” Instead of spending on food or entertainment, they were contributing towards making Cleveland a better place.44

These financial donations were used to wage an advertising campaign to woo white voters. Learning from the previous election, the Stokes campaign knew that they had to draw in more white support to guarantee a victory. Thus, the advertising campaign was used in television and radio spots, newspaper ads, and literature to attract swing voters.45 Stokes recorded various television spots ranging from 30 second ads to 5 minutes of him discussing issues such as jobs and urban renewal.46 While his 5 minute clips had him talking in depth, the 30 second ads tended to focus on race relations and law and order, pushing the message that Carl Stokes could help unify Cleveland. For example, one commercial had a police officer, alone in a locker room, putting on riot gear. The narrator meanwhile stated “Some people go to a lot of trouble to go out Saturday night. It doesn’t have to be.” 47 The Stokes campaign made sure to send out the message that he was a leader for all people, who could bring back unity and prosperity to Cleveland.48

Another key demographic that financial resources were used to attract was the Hispanic population of the West Side.49 His pamphlets, showing his opinion on Cleveland issues, were printed in Spanish and distributed in these areas.50 Carl Stokes spent numerous days there campaigning to prove to the primarily Puerto Rican area that he could address their needs. He would go to community dances and social events to appeal to the larger groups.51 While many of the other ethnic neighborhoods on the West Side were not as receptive to Stokes, the Hispanic community felt he could best serve their needs. Ultimately, they contributed a 2,000 solid voter bloc for Stokes.52

On the Primary Election Day, over 5,000 volunteers came out to make sure things ran smoothly. Within the campaign, Block Supervisors had gone door to door putting up notices on every door knob saying “stop- have you voted today?”53 Later in the day they went door-knocking to make sure people were going out to vote. Poll watchers would count up votes to predict the results. In fact, they were within 10 votes of the actual results. 54  They also made sure to note the amount of activity at each precinct. If there were too few people voting, they would have volunteers sent to neighborhoods to encourage voters. 55

One important group of volunteers on Election Day was made of college students. Bill Hunter, a recent college graduate, traveled around to thirty different colleges in Ohio to recruit students to help with the campaign.56 He appealed to them by claiming the election was an important facet of the civil rights fight. Many of these students were not African-American but did feel strongly about civil rights. Even before October 3rd, they were helping out by working the telephones and licking stamps. 57

However, on Primary Day, they came on buses or in their own cars to help out. They would baby-sit children while the homeowner would be driven to their polling places by other students.58 Around 50 students came from Oberlin College, 35 from Kent State, and two busloads came from Central State. Even students from other states came to help. Emma Willard College, in Troy, New York, brought in students to observe the campaign activity for a class, as well as help out between taking notes.59

Carl B. Stokes won the Democratic Primary on October 3, 1967. While the CCDP formally backed Stokes, they still provided little support. Between the Primaries and the General Election, the volunteer tasks were solely focused on voter education. Unlike the 1965 campaign, where Stokes was an Independent, this election had two voting days. Few newly registered voters understood that Stokes was not yet the Mayor. So, the NAACP and Urban League, as well as other grassroots organizations, launched a voter education drive. They had trained instructors to teach voter education to their own mass meetings, small groups, street and neighborhood clubs, and civic groups.60  Even the Call & Post printed weekly information about the general election ballot to make sure people were prepared for the General Election.61

The General Election Day efforts were similar to those of the Primaries, except they were even more prepared. Members of the Stokes for Mayor Campaign had sent out questionnaires to all poll workers to gather enough information about what needed to change. Out of 3,500 forms, 2,100 were returned. The results were used to judge what areas needed more support at polling places, who needed more training, and which areas could use a higher turnout.62

On the General Election Day, the campaign made sure to fix those problems. For example, more college students were in areas where they would be needed to drive people to polls or baby-sit while someone went to vote. Also, more poll watchers were placed in transitional wards, which were areas with an equal amount of African-Americans and White voters, where there had been problems before. By learning the details of each precinct during the October primary, volunteers were able to apply these lessons to November 7th. 63

By the end of the night, as the results of the primarily African-American wards came in, it was clear that Carl Stokes would be Mayor. It was through mass mobilization of eligible voters that the 1967 election had one of the highest voter participation in Cleveland history. The turnout in African-American wards was 80%, the highest ever, with over 90% voting for Carl Stokes. Instead of the 18% of white ward support, it was over 20%.In transitional wards, with 79.1% voter turnout, 60.5% voted for Stokes.  Stokes won with only 50.5% of the votes. With half a percent of a lead, Carl B. Stokes became Cleveland’s 50th mayor and the Nation’s first African-American mayor of a large city.64

Stokes volunteers did whatever was needed in order to bring out the African-American votes. Through the financial contributions of community members, Carl Stokes was able appeal to enough white and ethnic voters to receive a substantial percent of the votes. It took the 1965 election to perfect the grass roots technique to put the first African American into the City Hall of a major city. In an election as close as the one in 1967, frustrations with the previous administration and racial tensions were not the motivating only force behind bringing out the voters. It was those who were going through neighborhoods and encouraging people to vote. It was the volunteers.

About the Author:
Elis Ribeiro is a junior at Case Western Reserve University majoring in Political Science and History. She is originally from Ellicott City, Maryland. Since her freshman year she has worked for the Undergraduate Admissions Office. Currently she is the Vice President and Webmaster of Case Democrats. She is also a member of Phi Delta Theta, the History Honors Society, and Pi Sigma Alpha, the Political Science Honors Society. Next semester, she will be interning in Washington, DC. After graduation, she plans to attend Law School in the DC area.

Endnotes

1 Eyes on the Prize II. writ. and prod. by Judy Vecchione, v.9. PBS Video, 2000, videocassette.. [18:20]

2 Stokes, Carl. “Excerpts from Promises of Power: An Autobiography.” Cleveland Plain Dealer Sept. 24, 1973, 1A.

3 Nelson, William E. and Merento, Phillip J., Electing Black Mayors Columbus: Ohio State University Press, c1977, 91.

4 “The Campaign Plan to Elect Carl B. Stokes as Mayor of Cleveland, Ohio” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 1, Folder 9. WHRS.

5 as quoted in Nelson and Merento, 96.

6 Nelson and Merento, 91.

7 Sheridan, Terence. “Volunteer Block Supervisors were Key to Stokes’ Victory” Cleveland Plain Dealer October 5, 1967, 9A.

8 “Letter to Street Captains” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 6, Folder 87, Volunteers. WRHS

9 Nelson and Merento, 124.

10 “Stokes Victory Depends on Negro Registration” Call & Post. August 19, 1967, 4B.

11 Cuyahoga County Board of Election Results from 1965

12 Roberts, John W. “How to Beat City Hall” Grass Roots, Fall 1967, 8.

13 Stokes, Carl. Promises of Power, 94.

14 “Ted Kennedy Seeks Broader Riot Probe” Cleveland Press August 11, 1967, A14.

15 “Stokes Calls on US to Probe Hough Riots” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 4, Folder 65, WRHS.

16 “Jury Hough Report Praised, Belittled” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 4, Folder 65, WRHS.

17 “Stokes Files in Primary Race” Call & Post Saturday July 8, 1967, 1A.

18 “Stokes Files in Primary Race” Call & Post Saturday July 8, 1967, 12A.

19 Stokes, Carl. “Excerpts from Promises of Power: An Autobiography.” Cleveland Plain Dealer Sept. 24, 1973, 1A.

20 “Newsletter from Cuyahoga County Democrats Executive Committee” Sept 29, 1967. Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 5, Folder 75, WRHS.

21 “Ward 13 Dems Revolt, Demand Stokes Speak” Call & Post Saturday, August 26, 1967, 1A.

22 “Ward 13 Dems Revolt, Demand Stokes Speak” Call & Post Saturday, August 26, 1967, 1A.

23 “In Protest Rally: Ministers for Stokes Night for Ward 10 Dems” Call & Post Saturday August 26, 1967, 2A.

24 “Urban League, NAACP Join Voter Drive” Call & Post Saturday July 15, 1967, 1A.

25 “CORE to Announce Plans this Week” Call & Post Saturday August 4, 1967, 1A.

26 Moore, Leonard. Carl B. Stokes and the Rise of Black Political Power, Urbana : University of Illinois Press, c2002, 56.

27 “Young Adults Across City Rally for Stokes” Call & Post Saturday July 15, 1967, 12A.

28 “Teen Walk for Stokes” Call & Post October 7, 1967, 14A.

29 Roberts, 8.

30 “Letter to Volunteers” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 6, Folder 87, Voter Registration. WRHS.

31 Roberts, 8.

32 Nelson and Merento, 122.

33 “Car Pools Take Thousands to Register for Primaries” Call & Post  Saturday August 12, 1967, 1A.

34 “Voter Registration Volunteers Claim Police Harrassment”  Call & Post August 16, 1967, 6A.

35 Moore, Leonard, 55.

36 Williams, Bob “Carl Stokes Seeks Dems Endorsement” Saturday July 15, 1967, 1A.

37 Financial documents in Carl Stokes Papers, Container 5, Folder 78. WRHS.

38 “Plumbers Contribute to Stokes Campaign” Call & Post September 30, 1967, 2A.

39 Nelson and Merento, 130.

40 “The Feminine Touch” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 5, Folder 78, Feminine Touch. WRHS.

41 “The Feminine Touch” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 5, Folder 78. Feminine Touch. WRHS.

42 Nelson and Merento, 127.

43 Stokes for Mayor Ad, Call & Post August 19, 1967. 3A.

44 “One Dollar Thank-You” Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 5, Folder 75. WRHS.

45 “A Ostrow Campaign Strategy for Carl Stokes” 18 June 1967, Carl Stokes Papers, Container 1, Folder 9, WRHS.

46 Various transcripts of TV spots, Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 1, Folder 9, WRHS.

47 “Saturday Night” and “Long, Hot Summer” from Political Advertising in the 60s, London International Advertising Awards, 1992, Videocassette.

48 Moore, 58.

49 Roberts, 6.

50 Various brochures, Carl B. Stokes Papers, Container 6, Folder 91. WRHS.

51 “La Bamba” Carl B. Stokes Papers. Container 6, Folder 91. WRHS.

52 Nelson and Merento, 136.

53 Roberts, 10.

54 Roberts, 8.

55 Roberts, 10.

56 Nelson, and Merento, 129.

57 Roberts, 10.

58 Roberts, 10.

59 “Collegians Trek here for Stokes Campaign” Call & Post November 11, 1967, 1A.

60 “Accent Moves to Voter Education” Call & Post September 16, 1967, 3A.

61 Call & Post, October 14, 1967-November 4, 1967, 2A

62 Nelson, and Merento, 148

63 Nelson, and Merento, 148

64 Cuyahoga County Board of Election Results from 1967

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