WHITMAN – If not for the controversies and the 2018 Academy Award for Best Picture, won by “Green Book,” many white Americans might not have heard of the annual guide (1936 to 1967) by that name, offering travel advice, lists of safe and welcoming hotels for African-American travelers across the United States and ads for businesses – especially car sales.
Dr. Gloria Greis, the executive director of the Needham History Center and Museum, spoke at the Whitman Public Library on Saturday, Dec. 14 to add some informational meat on that skeletal knowledge in her talk, “Driving While Black.”
And area towns like Hanson and Kingston have earned listings in the guide over the years – for South Hanson, 1948, to be precise. More on that in a bit.
The Green Book got its name, in part, from the color featured in its cover designs, but also for its founder, Victor Hugo Green, who founded the guide in 1936, aided by his wife Alma, who took over briefly after his 1960 death.
A postal employee and travel agent in Harlem, Green was perfectly situated to make his guidebook the one people immediately thought of – despite the existence of at east six others – he could depend on a national network of postal employees to bolster the word-of-mouth campaign and, more importantly advertising, by his fellow postal employees.
While she admitted her presentation is “a little Needham-centric,” Greis, said that a few years ago, a local resident send her a note asking is she knew Needham had an entry in the Green Book, sending her on a seearch for information on several other South Shore communities, as well.
But, initially, Greis, herself, hadn’t known what the Green Book was.
“I daresay, I was not alone in my ignorance and I daresay that my ignorance says something about the way we approach local history,” she told her audience at Whitman Public Library. “Despite general sense that modern history is comprehensive and everything is known, the historical record is surprisingly incomplete. Records get lost, or not recorded in the first place.”
She added that even towns like Needham, where today an ABC-affiliate television network is located, and has a well-regarded educational system today, was in Colonial times, considered literate, but not literary.
People could read and write, “but they didn’t spend a lot of time putting their thoughts down on paper.”
Therefore, recorded history is usually found in official documents – tax rolls. Town clerks’ records, church registers, town reports and the like.
“This is the history of the town’s leaders,” she said. “While this information is incredibly important, it’s very incomplete as a town history. It leaves out large segments of community experience.”
That is largely the experience of the working class, Greis said – “the routine rhythms of work and leisure, the accommodations of neighborhood, the attitudes, opinions and relationships that governed everybody’s everyday life.”
Often who gets to tell that history adds another layer of controversy, which is why the dramatic film “Green Book,” ran into trouble by literally putting a white character in the driver’s seat, not only of a car, but also of a Black character’s story.
“Piecing together historical information about the non-establishment groups in a town takes a number of different strategies,” Greis said. The Green Book is one of those.
In Hanson, for example was among the 36 communities in Massachusetts with a listing – a small house at 26 Reed St., once owned by a woman named Mary Pina, was listed in the 1948 Green Book as an accommodation for African-American travelers and tourists both in a guest room in her home, and for campers in her spacious back yard.
“The [accommodations] tend to follow the highways and areas we still think of as vacation spots,” Greis said. “But not all. Some of them are on byways, like Needham.” And Hanson.
Hanson Health Board Chair Arlene Dias was amazed at that bit of historical news.
“There were a lot of Pinas on South Street, but I don’t remember somebody living that far up on Reed Street,” Dias said in a phone interview Friday, Dec. 20. “I’ve never heard of [the Green Book listing]. It is interesting.”
She said she would be calling family members who were more knowledgeable of the Cape Verdean population’s history in Hanson for more information.
“I had relatives that were Pinas, but they were on Pleasant Street,” Dias said.
Greis said that, as much as the Green Book offered guidance for the safety of travelers, it also offered economic safety for small businesses.
“It is a compendium of some of the most important people, successful businesses and important political milestones of the 20th Century,” she said. “It’s a who’s who of a rising class of African-American middle-class entrepreneurs.”
Before the advent of the Green Book and similar travel guide, Black travelers had to prepare ahead, packing food and enough gasoline for the journey, because there was no certainty that they’d find a safe place to eat, lodge, fuel their cars or even use the bathrooms, Greis said.
Green had written in the forward to the Green Book that it served as a way to ensure safety and dignity in travel until African-Americans were afforded equal opportunities and privileges in the United States.
“It will be a great day for us to suspend this publication,” he wrote.
The Jim Crow South was not the only area where travel problems might be encountered.
“These limits were imposed on African-Americans all over the country – even in the North,” Greis said. “We might not have had the actual signs, but we certainly had the signals.”
Even in Harlem during it’s “Harlem Renaissance” of the 1920s and ’30s, the more famous nightclubs like The Cotton Club, did not allow Black customers in the audience for performances of the biggest African-Americas entertainers of the day.
As Black workers found job opportunities in the North, especially in Detroit, their economic condition improved, but that was only one reason car ownership by Black Americans grew.
“Sometimes, it was the only way of getting easily from place to place,” she said The Green Book and other guides also advised Black people to buy a car as soon as they were able to for that reason. “The Green Book guided them to services where they were welcome, reducing what Green kindly called ‘aggravation.’”
That aggravation could range from out-and-out violence to Sundown Towns, where the threat was thinly veiled.
Getting one’s kicks on Route 66, was evidently meant for whites only as there were no welcoming business along the route musically extolled from Chicago as one “motors West.”
The first Green Book in 1936 covered only New York and Westchester County in 16 pages, but shortly grew to more than 9,500 businesses in 100 pages covering the entire United States, Mexico, Canada and the Caribbean.
“Esso Oil, which was notable for its progressive hiring, including African-American executives, scientists and franchisees, distributed the book throughout its station network,” Greis said.
It was also aimed at the African-American Middle Class and was relatively unknown among people of color in lower economic strata.
Once the Interstate Highway system helped spell the end of the Green Book, both by presenting a more homogeneous appearance for travel – and bypassing many of the businesses that advertised in it.

By Linda Ibbitson Hurd
Special to the Express
H ANSON — Our dad was very particular about Christmas trees and the right way to put them up.
Every December, when it was time to get our tree, the four of us kids would bundle up and follow him through the snow across our back yard and field, past the brook and blueberry patch and up into the pine grove to pick one out.
We all had a say in which tree we liked the best. Dad always seemed more patient, relaxed and happy in the woods, taking his time and even smiling. When we all agreed on which tree we wanted, he’d chop it down.
He pulled it behind him as we plowed back through the snow, following the path we had made on the way to the woods to make the going easier. When we got back home, dad propped the tree up beside a bucket of dirt near the kitchen door as it was closer to the living room. He told us to go in through the back door shed and take off our boots and hang up our coats.  
Once inside, Jingles our cat would meow and walk in front of us as if to tell us to follow her. Mom called to my younger brother and sister from the living room, saying she needed help laying an old sheet on the hardwood living room floor, then asking my sister, Penny, and I to carry the big box of ornaments in from the storage shed.
We could hear dad outside moving the dirt in the bucket around with his shovel. He opened the kitchen door and stuck his head in, asking mom if she was ready yet. When she was, Mom, Davey and Barb stepped off the sheet and Penny and I put the big box down on the hearth in front of the fireplace while dad wiped his feet on the mat and brought in the bucket of dirt. He placed it in the middle of the sheet and told us all to stand back while he brought the tree in. Jingles was perched on the arm of the couch and as the tree came in the door, she dove under the coffee table, her eyes as big as saucers. 
When dad would step down the two steps into the living room with the tree, Jingles usually took off like a shot, running into the other room. It made us laugh and we figured she was hiding under the dining room table or one of the beds. Every year it was ceremonious occasion as dad carefully carried the tree across the room, placing it snugly into the bucket of dirt he so carefully prepared. He watered it and packed it in some more until he was satisfied. He told mom to let it set while we had supper and then we could decorate it. 
Our favorie Saturday night and our favorite supper was hotdogs and beans. While mom was getting it ready and after Penny and I set the table, the four of us watched our favorite program, “Roy Rogers,” with dad. While we watched, Penny and I finished stringing popcorn and cranberries to put on the tree and trying not to eat it. Jingles quietly came out to have some of her supper and disappeared again. 
When supper was over, all of us were excited about trimming the tree.
Dad always went first, placing the star at the top and then adding the tree lights. The garlands of popcorn and cranberries were next and then came the ornaments. Each of us had a favorite one and some survived the test of time; I still have several. Mom and dad would lift Barbie and Davey up so they could hang their ornaments on the branches they chose. Mom preferred to string the tinsel herself as she used it sparingly which always made a beautiful final touch.  
We were almost finished decorating the tree when Jingles generally showed up on the two steps that came down into the living room, perched on the top one, her tail switching wildly. Dad stamped his foot and clapped his hands and away she ran.
Mom reached for the box of tinsel and dad plugged in the tree lights. I heard something and looked up. One year, before any of us could do anything, Jingles leaped off the step and was flying through the air like a crazed jet at top speed landing head first high into the tree. Dad let loose with a stream of expletives that were more colorful than the Christmas decorations. Jingles got her bearings and soared back into the air, landing on the kitchen floor, clawing the linoleum as she raced to get away and almost crashing into the wall turning the corner to get into the dining room. Mom and us kids were laughing so hard we couldn’t stop. Dad disappeared down into the cellar, slamming the door behind him. We went with mom to find Jingles to see if she was okay, which she was. She sat washing herself as if she was very proud. 
 When dad came back he had a hammer and screw driver in one hand and a metal object in the other. He went into the living room behind the tree where there were two windows. He screwed the metal piece into one of the window frames behind the curtains. He informed us that from now on there would be a rope tied to the inside of the tree attached to the metal holder that would keep it in place and withstand any mishap. It may still be there to this day. Like Jingles, dad seemed very proud of his solution. We helped mom and dad fix the tree and interestingly enough, had no more problems with Jingles.