Telling the Story of Dreamland - Berna J. Love
"Old timers call it simply 'Dreamland' or 'Taborian Temple,' but most Little Rock natives know the stately, three-story, red brick building on the corner of Ninth and State Streets as Taborian Hall, home of Arkansas Flag and Banner, Inc. Temple of Dreams documents the illustrious history of Taborian Hall, the last extant building of the once vibrant African American community centered on West Ninth Street. Constructed in 1916-1918 as the state headquarters for the Knights and Daughters of Tabor, Taborian Hall stood at the heart of the Line, as West Ninth Street was called, and housed a multitude of commercial businesses and professional offices. During two world wars, Taborian Hall served as a service club and a USO for thousands of black soldiers and war workers. By the post-war years, Taborian Hall, a regular touring stop on the 'Chittlin’ Circuit', evolved into 'club central' and the era’s greatest musical stars performed there: 'Fatha' Hines, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, B. B. King, and Ray Charles, among others. Devastated by integration and urban renewal of the 1970’s, Taborian Hall had declined to such an extent that it had become a flophouse for transients and its demolition appeared imminent. Miraculously saved from destruction by Kerry McCoy, Taborian Hall approaches its 100th birthday, it is reawakening to its proud heritage and entering an exciting new chapter in its history."
“The Roaring Twenties. That’s right . . . you had from the sublime to the ridiculous on Ninth Street. You had the wealthiest black people in Little Rock, and you had some of the poorest black people.”
- Victoria Cullin Sims
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK: Chapter 3; The Knights and Daughters of Tabor
"Born
during
the
Reconstruction
while
the
embers
of
racial
equality
were
still
burning,
the
Knights
and
Daughters
of
Tabor,
like
other
mutual
aid
fraternities,
grew
in
importance
for
African
Americans
who
saw
their
lives
regulated
by
separatist
Jim
Crow
laws
and
racial
prejudice
in
the
late
nineteenth
and
early
twentieth
centuries.
Little
to
no
public
assistance
was
available
for
Blacks—
no
burial
insurance
or
death
benefits,
few
social
programs,
no
health
care,
foster
care,
or
retirement
homes.
African
Americans
knew
that
they
must
rely
upon
themselves
to
overcome
these
stumbling
blocks
placed
to
demean
and
debase.
“The
sense
of
fraternity—of
mutual
obligation
to
support
brothers
and
sisters
in
need—was
a
strong
factor”
for
the
Taborians,
as
well
as
self-‐reliance,
a
hallmark
of
fraternalism.
Small
monthly
dues
to
the
Order
afforded
their
members
many
rights
and
benefits—
genuine
aid,
as
well
as
fellowship
and
pageantry.
For
a
people
crushed
under
white
heels,
the
secrets,
regalia,
ritualism,
and
God-‐centrism
of
the
Knights
and
Daughters
of
Tabor
created
race
actualization,
group
cohesion,
and
individualism.
In
the
preface
of
the
Taborian
Constitutions,
Dickson
clearly
explains
that
their
objective
was
to
“form
an
organization
composed
of
men
and
women,
including
children,
into
a
united,
solid
compact,
making
it
a
secret
beneficial
Order,
united
together
members
by
obligation
and
laws,
binding
them
by
secret
ties
.
.
.
”
The
society’s
secrecy
was
a
cautionary
tale
woven
by
Dickson
who
said,
“Let
not
your
right
hand
know
what
your
left
hand
does;
trust
no
one,
and
test
every
man
before
he
is
admitted
to
membership.”
Living
under
disfranchisement,
discrimination,
and
segregation,
mistrust
of
Whites
was
implicit,
but
Dickson
insisted
that
the
Manual
and
Taborian
Constitutions
were
“not
secret
books,
and
may
be
read
by
any
person.”
The
Order’s
mysterious
and
enigmatic
iconography—an
all-‐seeing
eye,
numbers,
and
wheel—were
well-‐appointed
on
all
objects
associated
with
the
Knights
and
Daughters
of
Tabor
including
headstones,
temples,
tabernacles,
regalia,
membership
cards,
and
furniture.
Most
prominent
were
the
numbers
“333,”
“777,”
and
“12,”
ascribed
by
Dickson
and
believed
by
Tabors
to
be
“perfect
numbers”:
The
emblematic
figures
“333”
convey
a
deep
significance,
and
prove
the
faith
the
Knights
and
Daughters
of
Tabor
have
in
an
overruling
Providence,
[belief]
in
a
triune
God—the
Father,
Son,
and
Holy
Ghost
.
.
.
“777”
“emphasizes
the
triple
perfection
of
the
International
Order
of
Twelve,
founded
upon
the
solid
principles
of
justice,
equity,
benevolence,
prudence,
loyalty,
unity,
and
impartiality
.
.
.
the
symbolized
number
“12”
express
our
unwavering
confidence
and
trust
in
the
motto
of
our
Order:
In
God
alone
is
safety!" ...
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK: Chapter 7; Laying the Cats and Fillies Out: Club Aristocrat & The "New" Dreamland Ballroom
It
was
a
hectic
basketball
battle
that
Friday
night
in
the
late
winter
of
1933.
The
powerful
Collegiate
Stars
hammered
the
Philander
Smith
quintet,
running
them
up
and
down
the
third-‐floor
“half-‐
court”
of
Taborian
Temple.
The
intense
rivalry
between
the
groups
brought
out
the
fans
who
crowded
onto
the
stage
and
balcony,
and
flattened
against
the
auditorium
walls.
The
champions
of
Little
Rock,
the
Collegiate
Stars,
gained
an
early
lead
and
played
a
defensive
game
throughout.
When
the
skirmish
was
over,
the
Stars
had
downed
Philander,
45
to
26.
Triumphant
or
disappointed,
chatting
and
laughing,
players,
parents,
teachers—young
and
old—streamed
out
of
Taborian
to
Ninth
Street
below
to
catch
the
trolley,
walk
home,
or
perhaps
to
linger
awhile.
The
Depression
had
battered
but
not
broken
the
spirit
of
the
West
Ninth
Street
community.
Despite
the
loss
of
eleven
percent
of
its
businesses
in
the
years
1930-‐1935,
the
West
Ninth
Street
community
was
still
vibrant,
pulsing
with
activity.
People
continued
to
eat,
drink,
and
be
merry,
worship
God,
birth
babies,
and
bury
the
dead.
The
Line
was
a
stage
where
daily
living
was
played
out.
The
Depression
did
not
change
that.
West
Ninth
Street’s
network
of
support
and
services
for
Blacks
by
Blacks
was
instrumental
in
helping
African
Americans
survive
the
devastating
and
discriminatory
Depression
conditions
that
they
faced
each
day
in
the
white
man’s
world." ...
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK: Chapter 9; The Ninth Street USO Club
The
New
Ninth
Street
USO
Club—During
the
war
years,
West
Ninth
Street
never
slept.
Day
or
night,
the
street
community
was
ready
to
serve
the
soldiers
who
served
Uncle
Sam.
The
new
Ninth
Street
USO
Club
that
had
quietly
opened
in
Taborian
Hall
in
January
1942
was
a
big
“hit
with
the
soldiers
here.”314
The
“Keepin’
‘em
Smiling”
campaign
implemented
by
the
Ninth
Street
USO
energized
full
support
and
participation
by
the
bronze
city’s
social
clubs,
churches,
fraternities
and
sororities.
“The
USO
Club
is
located
in
the
New
Dreamland,”
the
State
Press
reported,
“and
occupies
five
rooms
of
the
second
floor,
including
the
Lounge
which
is
used
for
the
Soldier’s
Lounge
and
for
small
parties.
Other
rooms
are
used
as
game
rooms,
reading
rooms,
and
offices,
etc.”
The
new
service
club
was
sponsored
by
the
Young
Men’s
Christian
Association
(YMCA),
an
organization
founded
prior
to
the
Civil
War
whose
purpose
was
“to
create
a
refuge
in
a
sea
of
sin,
vice,
and
corruption.”
By
World
War
II,
their
mission
included
the
development
of
“the
Spirit,
the
Mind,
the
Body
of
the
individual,”
and
their
iconic
red
triangle
logo
illustrated
that
aim.”
The
YMCA
joined
with
five
other
agencies—the
Catholic
Community
Service,
the
Salvation
Army,
the
YWCA,
the
Jewish
Welfare
Board,
and
National
Travelers
Aid
Association—“to
bring
together
in
one
organization
representatives
of
three
faiths,
people
of
all
races
and
every
creed
and
color,
for
a
joint
service,”
an
“experiment
in
democracy,”
the
creation
of
the
USO.” ...
