Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America

Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America by Candacy Taylor was a remarkable book about the travel guide known as the Green Book. This guide, in print from 1936 to 1967, was created to inform black travellers of hotels, resorts, restaurants, nightclubs and other amenities and attractions that did not discriminate. In the time of segregation, black travellers would not have known everyplace where it was safe to visit, or which places were in fact sundown towns should they arrive and need accommodation at night. Founded by Victor Hugo Green, his guide was essential reading in the time of Jim Crow. He even printed “Carry your Green Book with you–You may need it.” on the front cover for many years.

Taylor travelled through history from the year of the first Green Book in 1936, covering the postwar years to the burgeoning black power movement. She also touched on themes, such as train travel, music venues, Route 66, and women travellers.

Desegregation opened up the possibilities for black travellers to visit new places and they were not limited to the finite lists within the Green Book. Unfortunately the business owners who had previously seen their patronage suffered as their customer base disappeared. The sense of black community which one encountered while on vacation vanished as black travellers enjoyed the integrated experience (which, truth be told, was still wrought with discrimination). One community activist put it succinctly: “We got what we wanted, but we lost what we had.”

Taylor produced a weighty and attractive work full of photographs showing every cover of every Green Book ever published, as well as many pages showing the contents within. She travelled all over the country to locate places listed in the guide and photographed how they look today. Taylor told a story in an engaging format that placed the reader in the car with the traveller. Even the pages double-spread with solid text were rapid reads. The print was easy on the eyes. Overall the book felt and looked like a luxurious piece of art as it was so beautifully laid out.

 Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's on-line catalogue

100 Things We’ve Lost to the Internet

 

100 Things We’ve Lost to the Internet by Pamela Paul is a curious book of short chapters dealing with all the concrete and intangible things humankind has supposedly lost in the last twenty, or even in the last ten, years. I call this book “curious” because in spite of Paul’s sentimental mourning over the loss of photo albums and family gatherings around the dinner table where every member is not nose-deep into his cellphone, it seems to me that she could have many of these things back if she only put her damn phone away. Being tethered to her smartphone is not a justifiable reason to sound the death knell of Scrabble tiles, penmanship and proper spelling. She misses handwritten letters, birthday cards and maps, as well as honorable human behaviours such as patience, civility and asking politely. I can only wonder if Paul continues to write letters or send birthday cards herself. If she misses them so much, she has the power to do something about it. I got the feeling that she was feigning a counterfeit sense of regret, and, if she was given a pen and a fancy piece of stationery, as well as a free postage stamp, she couldn’t be bothered to compose a letter to someone. Birthday cards are another matter, as I believe Paul still prefers to send the real thing:

“Now, birthday greetings may instead arrive in the form of emails, posts, texts, and, perhaps worst of all, e-cards, which either slip into spam where they belong or land in unison on the morning of the big day because they are automated. However they get there, nobody wants them. Really, nobody. Ready-made and free for anyone who signs up and signs away their data (and yours!), the e-card says nobody could be bothered making or buying a card of their own. There is nothing fun about the e-card, which forces you to click through several slow-to-load screens before you arrive at anything resembling a personal message. It leaves no recipient feeling seen or tended to. It feels crappy on your birthday, indifferent on Valentine’s Day, brutal on Mother’s Day.”

The author also wrote chapters on experiences or professions that the Internet has eliminated, such as window shopping, blind dates, eye contact, and receptionists. No one goes on a true blind date anymore, not when one can check out the other’s presence on social media. Everyone’s attention is focussed on his smartphone or laptop and no one looks at you when speaking. I mourn eye contact too.

Yet ownership of a smartphone now obligates one into doing all kinds of activities and never leaves one with the option to opt out. For example, Paul can never claim to have missed a call, not when her cellphone will take a message for her. She will never again feel the panic of being lost, not when her GPS and Google Maps can point her in the right direction (and not feeling lost is a good thing). And she never has to memorize anyone’s phone number–or memorize anything, for that matter–not when her phone has all her numbers stored in a personal contact list. Take it from journalist Euna Lee, who was imprisoned in North Korea, and commit all of your most important phone numbers to memory. You might need to call someone if somehow you weren’t attached to your phone.

While I do use the Internet every day, I do not own a cellphone, so my perspective is not from someone with a hunched back and sore neck, so when you call me (and if I answer) I am at home. I approached this book thus from a different perspective as my attention span (number 63 on her list) is not lost and is still sharp, thank-you very much.

Find this book in the Mississauga Library System's on-line catalogue