# Kareem Abdul-Jabbar: Remembering Central Avenue, L.A.’s jazz oasis: Video, Photos

- Link: https://jazzblues.eu/2020/07/23/kareem-abdul-jabbar-remembering-central-avenue-l-a-s-jazz-oasis-video-photos/
- Published: 2020-07-23T00:01:03+01:00
- Author: https://JazzBlues.EU

**‘Central was like a river. A mighty river like the Amazon or the Nile, or in this
case the Congo. And all the streets were tributaries that branched off from this
great river.’**

**— CLIFFORD “KING” SOLOMON, JAZZ MUSICIAN**

My first exposure to the influence of jazz on Los Angeles was in 1965 when I was
a freshman attending UCLA. Edgar Lacey, a junior and fellow player on the basketball
team, took me to the It Club to see John Coltrane.

As a teenage jazz enthusiast growing up in New York City, I had listened to all 
of Coltrane’s records. Jazz was the soundtrack to my life. It was in my blood thanks
to my father, who was a transit cop by day, but by night a Juilliard-trained musician
who played trombone with many of the jazz greats and introduced me to my childhood
heroes, like Thelonious Monk and Miles Davis.

I also had spent a summer in a high school journalism program in Harlem researching
and writing about the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and 1930s, when the greatest
African American lions of politics, art, literature and jazz roared loud enough 
to make Black voices heard around the world. And the world — having never heard 
Black voices so clear, so engaging, so vibrant — was forever changed because of 
it. I know I was. Their passion to speak their truths gave me the courage to do 
the same.

But while my 18-year-old self was sitting with my friends in the swinging It Club,
listening to Coltrane’s soulful saxophone seduce the crowd with “Impressions” and“
I Want to Talk About You,” I had no idea just how significant jazz was to the history
of African Americans in Los Angeles.

![Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, then 19, with jazz legend Thelonious Monk.](https://ca-times.
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Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, then 19, with jazz legend Thelonious Monk.

(Courtesy of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar)

In my heart, I was still a child of New York City, an apostle of its rich history,
energetic community and vital lifestyle. Although I spent college and most of my
NBA career in Los Angeles, it wasn’t until I retired from basketball and began my
second career as a writer specializing in African American history and the nuances
of popular culture that I learned how one area — Central Avenue — played a vital
role in shaping both African American history and American popular culture. It was
a revelation — and an inspiration.

But why had it taken me so long to hear about this amazing past that Angelenos should
have been bragging about the way they tout their television, movie, and rock music
heritage? Why was this particular past, which influenced so much of Los Angeles’
identity, ignored, neglected or buried?

R.J. Smith explained this selective memory in his poetic and incisive book “The 
Great Black Way: L.A. in the 1940s and the Lost African-American Renaissance”: “
Los Angeles is the capital of forgetting. It is a place so fixated on tomorrows 
or so set on seeming brand-new. … We do the future: until recently we barely accepted
we had a past. A past is what many of us came here to escape.”

Hadn’t I done the same thing? Like thousands of star-struck wannabes before me, 
I had come to Los Angeles to launch my future self, my eyes on the successes and
triumphs of a future me. Fifty years later, the future me has come to reflect on
the many Black hands of the past that lifted me up to my success — and to honor 
them.

I became so fascinated with my deep dive into all things Central Avenue that I began
developing a noir TV series called “Trouble Man,” set in that district during the
late 1940s. (Nothing proves I’ve become a true Californian more than developing 
a TV series.) It would combine my love of ‘70s-style blaxploitation movies with 
the ‘40s era’s hard-boiled detectives, the Golden Age of Hollywood, gangsters and,
of course, jazz. And a mostly Black cast. The stories would reflect how the post-
World War II struggles of Central Avenue gave rise to everything from the civil 
rights movement to the birth of rock ‘n’ roll. And the soundtrack would be, naturally,
jazz.

So, let me be your tour guide through the historic Central Avenue that I came to
know, love and revere during many months of research. There’s so much more to see
than I could possibly show you on this short trip through time, so I’ll focus on
some of the most important sights.

Central Avenue runs north-south like a soldier’s spine through the center of Los
Angeles. From the 1920s to the 1950s, these bustling blocks were the thumping heart
of the African American community. As in most American cities, informal segregation
turned the Black neighborhoods into a city within a city where locals shopped, conducted
business, filled prescriptions, got fillings, made last wills and testaments. It
was a Black ecosystem where whites ventured only to sample the lively jazz clubs
that featured some of the world’s best musicians.

![Kareem Abdul-Jabbar at the wedding of jazz artist Gil Scott-Heron in 1978.](https://
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(Courtesy of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar)

Among the famous whites who frequented the Central Avenue clubs were Howard Hughes,
Bing Crosby, Ava Gardner, Humphrey Bogart, Marilyn Monroe and W.C. Fields. The nightlife
wasn’t all floor shows and jazz. If you knew where to go, there was gambling, drugs
and prostitutes.

![ Jelly Roll Morton played to full houses between 1917 and 1922 at the Cadillac
Cafe on Central Avenue.](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/1c932f2/
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2Fla-me-col1-central-avenue-33.JPG)

Early jazz pioneer Jelly Roll Morton played to full houses between 1917 and 1922
at the Cadillac Cafe on Central Avenue.

(File photo)

In 1920, at the start of Central Avenue’s rise, the city’s Black population was 
only 15,579 (3% of the nearly 600,000 people of Los Angeles). The Second Great Migration
followed World War II, with thousands of African Americans leaving Louisiana, Mississippi,
Arkansas and Texas to come to California hoping for factory jobs needed to help 
the war effort.

By 1940, Los Angeles’ Black population had quadrupled to 63,700. In 1950, when Central
Avenue’s glorious flame had started to flicker out, Los Angeles had over 4 million
people, 217,881 of whom were Black. The 30-year heyday of Central Avenue was, in
part, the result of the influx of these hundreds of thousands of new people and 
their vibrant culture.

White Angelenos first started selling property to Blacks during the Great Depression,
when dire economic pressures overcame racism. But whites fought the expansion of
the Central Avenue Black community, sometimes with violence, sometimes with laws
such as including restrictions in their deeds prohibiting Blacks, Japanese, Mexicans,
Indians and Chinese from buying the land. Just as the Black community, whose musical
taste in the beginning of the 20th century was conservative, did not welcome the
introduction of jazz. But both happened anyway.

Jelly Roll Morton played to full houses between 1917 and 1922 at the Cadillac Cafe
on Central Avenue. That brought in celebrities. Said Morton: “We didn’t have anything
but movie stars at the Cadillac Cafe as long as I played there.”

![Nat King Cole, in an undated photo, was among the big names who performed on Central
Avenue.](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/b8ca726/2147483647/strip/
true/crop/648x432+0+0/resize/1080x720!/quality/90/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcalifornia-
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king-cole.JPG)

(File photo)

Central Avenue thrived. Club Alabam, the Downbeat, the Last Word, the Dunbar Hotel
and others hosted the most famous and soon-to-be-famous Black entertainers in the
world: Nat King Cole, Lionel Hampton, Duke Ellington, Charles Mingus, Charlie Parker,
Dinah Washington and dozens of others. The avenue became known as “Brown Broadway.”
This is what it looked like to a reporter from the California Eagle, California’s
largest and most influential Black newspaper:

“Big modern office buildings elbowing tumbledown shacks — Eat shops, in rows — Chicken
markets, Chicken markets, Chicken markets — Missions — Speakeasies, black frocked
ministers — Flashily dressed furtive-eyed racketeers’ — Ladies of the evening — 
patrolling in daylight big cars whiz recklessly, cut-outs wide open — colored and
white school children arm in arm, no race hatred yet… Second hand stores, gilded
emporiums, colored banks — A wonderful colored life insurance building, colored 
gas stations — A score of colored drug stores … That gives a great visual sense 
of the street’s lifestyle, but if you really want to _feel_ its kinetic energy, 
sense of joy and hope, listen to Lionel Hampton’s thumping ‘[Central Avenue Breakdown](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrQ6yVY7Ha8).’”

> ‘It was once the most glorious place on ‘the Avenue.’ At the Dunbar Hotel … you
> could dance to the sounds of Cab Calloway, laugh till your stomach hurt with Redd
> Foxx and maybe, just maybe, get a room near Billie Holiday or Duke Ellington.’

— LOS ANGELES HERALD-EXAMINER

![The Dunbar Hotel in 1987 ](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/7699f93/
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The Dunbar Hotel in 1987. It was called the Hotel Somerville when it opened in 1928.

(Herald-Examiner Photo Collection)

![A photo hanging on a wall at the former Dunbar Hotel shows jazz great Billie Holiday
performing there in the 1940s.](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/
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2Fla-hm-dunbar-hotel-photos-011)

(Los Angeles Times)

Built on the corner of 42nd and Central, the luxurious and elegant four-story, 115-
room Dunbar Hotel was a beacon of African American hope. Originally called the Hotel
Somerville when it opened in 1928 and constructed exclusively by Black laborers,
the hotel was owned by Dr. John Somerville and his wife, Dr. Vada Watson Somerville,
the first Black man and Black woman to graduate from USC’s dental school.
 Although
the Central Avenue community had a large population of middle- and upper-class Black
families, there was no first-class hotel in Los Angeles that would cater to Black
clients. Hotel Somerville changed that. The hotel was so important to the local 
community that more than 5,000 people showed up to celebrate its grand opening.

If the People’s Independent Church of Christ (where Hattie McDaniel celebrated her
Oscar for “Gone With the Wind” and where Jackie Robinson got married) represented
their spiritual aspirations, the Somerville represented their political and social
aspirations.

The year it opened, the Somerville hosted the first West Coast convention of the
NAACP, featuring W.E.B. Du Bois, the era’s preeminent spokesperson for civil rights.
Other Black intellectuals and social justice warriors frequenting the Somerville
included poet Langston Hughes and future U.S. Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall.
Black celebrities, such as entertainer Josephine Baker and boxer Joe Louis, stayed
there.

![The Dunbar teemed with celebrity guests and performers like Duke Ellington.](https://
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The Dunbar teemed with celebrity guests and performers such as Duke Ellington, shown
performing with Alice Key at the Mayan Theater in Los Angeles in 1941.

(Herald-Examiner Photo Collection)

“It was a place where the future of Black America was discussed every night of the
week in the lobby,” Los Angeles civil rights activist Celes King III told KCET. “
There were very serious discussions between people like W.E.B. Du Bois, doctors,
lawyers and educators and other professionals. This was the place where many of 
them put together plans to improve the lifestyle of their people.”

The Great Depression forced the sale of the Somerville, which was renamed the Dunbar
Hotel after Paul Laurence Dunbar, the son of ex-slaves who became an acclaimed poet,
essayist and novelist. The hotel building contained many independent businesses,
many operated by women, including a flower shop, cafe, barbershop, hair salon and
a stenographer’s office.

![Central Avenue in 1939.](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/403dd7d/
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2Fla-me-col1-central-avenue-47.JPG)

(Los Angeles Public Library )

The Dunbar teemed with celebrity guests and performers: Paul Robeson, Hattie McDaniel,
Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday, Fats Waller, Nat
King Cole, Lena Horne, Billy Eckstein, Jelly Roll Morton, Ray Charles and Count 
Basie. Before becoming mayor of Los Angeles, Officer Tom Bradley walked a beat on
Central Avenue and often ate at the Dunbar Grill.

“Everybody that was anybody showed up at the Dunbar,” Lionel Hampton told The Times
in 1983. “I remember a chauffeur would drive Stepin Fetchit, the movie star, up 
to the curb in a big Packard and he’d look out the window at all the folks. The 
Dunbar was also popular with would-be actors because Hollywood directors would regularly
stop by the hotel to gather up extras for a day’s work.”

The integration that so many civil rights activists planned for at the tables of
the Dunbar was also its downfall. Black celebrities were no longer confined to one
hotel and so began staying at other first-class hotels in Hollywood and Beverly 
Hills. After years of losing money, the hotel closed in 1974.

![Rudy Ray Moore in a scene from his 1975 movie, "Dolemite." ](https://ca-times.
brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/b884a84/2147483647/strip/true/crop/500x369+0+0/resize/
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com%2F63%2Fd2%2F3f5ae8b12e146584a2d95ac9a906%2Flat-moore-k91xl0nc20081020223100)

Rudy Ray Moore in a scene from his 1975 movie, “Dolemite.” Moore used the then-broken-
down Dunbar Hotel to film his blaxploitation movie.

(National Screen Service Corp.)

The recent Eddie Murphy movie “Dolemite Is My Name” chronicles Rudy Ray Moore’s 
use of the broken-down hotel to film his 1975 blaxploitation movie, “Dolemite.” 
Today the Dunbar building still stands, though it is now part of a residential community
called Dunbar Village.

> ‘I can see him now walking around with that cigar. When he walked around, you 
> knew he was somebody, OK, because he had that air … which was kind of unusual 
> in those days because being a black man with all that competence that he had, 
> he was like a role model to us.’

— SINGER JEANETTE BAKER TO NPR

When ex-used car salesman John Dolphin arrived from Detroit in 1947, he bought a
record store on 40^(th) Street and Central Avenue that exemplified the hustle and
creativity of some of the Black entrepreneurs seeking West Coast success. He renamed
his store Dolphin’s of Hollywood, despite the fact that Hollywood was miles away;
deed restrictions and unwilling sellers prevented Blacks from owning businesses 
in Hollywood at that time.

![John Dolphin, R&B saxophonists Earl Bostic and Joe Houston, and DJ Dick 'Huggy
Boy' Hugg ](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/482d938/2147483647/
strip/true/crop/5669x4488+0+0/resize/1080x855!/quality/90/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcalifornia-
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me-kareem-central-avenue-jazz-25.JPG)

From left, record store owner John Dolphin, R&B saxophonists Earl Bostic and Joe
Houston, and DJ Dick “Huggy Boy” Hugg at Dolphin’s of Hollywood, circa 1952.

(Michael Ochs Archives )

“If Negroes can’t go to Hollywood,” Dolphin vowed, “then I’ll bring Hollywood to
Negroes.”

Lovin’ John, as he was known, kept the store open 24 hours a day, with a DJ in the
storefront window broadcasting on a local radio station, KRKD. Sometimes they would
have on-air interviews with stars such as Aretha Franklin, Billie Holiday, Little
Richard and James Brown.

![The Penguins' “Earth Angel” was first released during a live broadcast from Dolphin’s
of Hollywood record shop.](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/4bc9eab/
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2Fla-xpm-photo-2012-nov-16-la-me-cleve-duncan-20121117)

(Gilles Petard / Redferns)

Determined to promote Black artists at a time when white artists were recording 
and popularizing Black songs, Dolphin bought air time on white radio stations to
broadcast original Black artists such as Sam Cooke and Charles Mingus. The Penguins’
doo-wop hit “Earth Angel” was first released during a live broadcast from Dolphin’s.

Eventually, the store’s success also brought Dolphin unwanted attention. The store
was a serious competitor to white record stores. White kids were coming to Dolphin’s,
and the authorities, afraid white girls would dance with the Black boys, would blockade
the store and on occasion make arrests while sending the white kids home.

Dolphin’s son, Michael, told the Los Angeles Sentinel in 2015 that he recalled police
shutting down the store a few times because “there were too many white kids in the
store.” But the store always reopened.

Dolphin also started his own recording labels, including Recorded in Hollywood (
which he sold to Decca). Dolphin’s slogan was, “We’ll record you today and have 
you a hit by tonight.”

**COLUMN ONE**

A showcase for compelling storytelling from the Los Angeles Times.

Unfortunately, he also had a reputation for being stingy with paying his artists.
That reputation resulted in one of his artists, Percy Ivy, wrongfully thinking Dolphin
was holding back royalties. In 1958, Ivy charged into Dolphin’s office and shot 
him dead.

Dolphin’s of Hollywood closed in 1989.

![](https://ca-times.brightspotcdn.com/dims4/default/b937c75/2147483647/strip/true/
crop/636x424+6+0/resize/1680x1120!/quality/90/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcalifornia-times-
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1/21

In its heyday, the Dunbar Hotel was among the Central Avenue hot spots, featuring
some of the world’s best musicians. The hotel also served as a vital center for 
the African American community in South Los Angeles.  (File photo)

 

> ‘It is a big, well-appointed theater in which all of the actors and almost all
> of the auditors are negroes. But many white people crowd in, too, because the 
> chance to see negro actors of real ability appearing for their own people rather
> than appearing as negroes from the white man’s point of view is one that doesn’t
> come to one in every city.’

— COLUMNIST LEE SHIPPEY, LOS ANGELES TIMES, 1928

The Lincoln Theater was built around 1926, another of the grand movie palaces of
the time. It had a stage and orchestra pit, seated 2,100 people and was considered
one of the most elegant buildings of the Central Avenue corridor. Because it attracted
so many of the same acts as Harlem’s Apollo Theater, the Lincoln became known as
the “West Coast Apollo.”

![The Lincoln Theater on Central Avenue became known as the "West Coast Apollo."](
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s3.amazonaws.com%2F5a%2F61%2F08d6b79a4820a702cc3189790e35%2Flincoln-theater.JPG)

(CSUN digital collection)

Some of the performers there included Lionel Hampton, Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole,
Fats Domino, B.B. King, Dooley Wilson (Sam in “Casablanca”). These acts attracted
Hollywood celebrities such as Charlie Chaplin, Irving Thalberg, Janet Gaynor and
Fanny Brice. It was outside the Lincoln that songwriter Eden Ahbez handed his composition“
Nature Boy” to Nat King Cole’s road manager. It became one of Cole’s biggest hits.

Black Angelenos outgrew the confines of Central Avenue. The Black businesses helped
force integration on a reluctant Los Angeles, and integration gave Black families
more opportunities to work and live wherever they chose. There were growing pains,
just as there are when any child matures and moves away from his home and childhood
community. When he returns years later, he is surprised and a little saddened to
see the familiar landmarks closed or replaced. The Watts riots of 1965 had destroyed
some buildings and others had fallen to the inexorable tsunami of progress. Dolphin‘s
was gone. The Dunbar Hotel was gone. The Lincoln Theater was converted into a church.

The giants of Central Avenue may have gone, but their footprints still remain on
all of American culture. The jazz musicians and record promoters also gave birth
to rock ‘n’ roll, rhythm and blues, hip-hop and rap. Though Central’s glory days
are no more, Los Angeles still celebrates the contributions of so many African Americans
that changed the city for the better.

Every year since 1996 (except this year, due to the pandemic), during the last weekend
of July, the free Central Avenue Jazz Festival features booths with food, arts and
crafts, and community outreach programs. And lots of jazz. It is a joyful tribute
to what was and a loving recognition of what we owe. As Dinah Washington sings in
Irving Berlin’s “The Song Is Ended”: “The song is ended/But the melody lingers on.”

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