…In the end, Billie Holiday’s insistence on performing “Strange Fruit” may have been responsible for her demise.
One of the primary attempts to silence her came from a man named Harry Anslinger, the first commissioner for the Federal Bureau of Narcotics, and an extreme racist, even for the 1930s. As Johann Hari details in Chasing the Scream: The First and Last Days of the War on Drugs, Anslinger claimed that narcotics made black people forget their place in the fabric of American society, and that jazz musicians were dangerous in particular, creating “Satanic” music under the influence of marijuana.
Holiday, who throughout her career called public attention to the devastating impact of white supremacy, was also a drug user. She drew Anslinger’s notice, and he ordered Holiday to cease performing the song. Holiday refused, and Anslinger ramped up his efforts to silence her.
After one of Anslinger’s men was paid to track Holiday and frame her with buying and using heroin, she spent eighteen months in prison. Upon her release in 1948, the federal government refused to renew her cabaret performer’s license, mandatory for any performer playing or singing at any club or bar serving alcohol.
This utterly undermined her career. Although Holiday was able to perform multiple sold-out Carnegie Hall performances over the next several years, she could no longer travel the nightclub circuit.
Unable to perform regularly at the venues she loved, and to stop remembering a childhood that included being raped at age ten, and working in a brothel with her mother, Holiday eventually began using heroin again. When she checked into a New York hospital in 1959, her liver was failing and cancerous. She was emaciated, and her heart and lungs were compromised. Despite her condition, she didn’t want to stay there. “They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me in there. Don’t let them,” she presciently told friends and family.
Indeed, Anslinger’s men, sensing a macabre opportunity, showed up at her hospital bedside, handcuffed her to the bed, took mugshots, removed giftsthat people had brought to the room—flowers, radio, record player, chocolates, magazines—and stationed two cops at the door.
Even so, as doctors began methadone treatment, Holiday began to improve, gaining some weight and improving slowly. But then Anslinger’s men prevented hospital staff from administering any further methadone. She succumbed to death within days.
The only surviving filmed version of Holiday performing the song is from the British cabaret television show, “Chelsea At Nine,” recorded February 25, 1959 and released in March of the same year, just a few months before she died. Her voice is strong and impressive; the raw emotion simply devastating.
From their infancy in the US, drug laws and enforcement have been about controlling and murdering Black people.
the title is weird considering the article says exactly who killed her
There’s this girl at my school and she’s really nice and I remember sometime last year at one point she would carry a clicker around and click it everytime she had a happy thought/something good happened/she laughed etc. It was always kind of cute how you’d just hear the little click every once in a while throughout class it always made me smile knowing that it was bc something made her feel happy idk
she was training herself to be happy oh my god
does it work???? Imagine feeling yourself slipping into depression and you just click a few times and your brain says “wait, this is the sound of happiness I have to release serotonin”
She fucking Pavlov’d herself, the absolute madwoman
My FATHER went to a LEGALLY MANDATED segregated school until he was 8 and integration was then enforced. He was not legally allowed into a school or part of town with white people until he was almost ten
Many people forget black people couldn’t even vote until 1965. That’s not that long ago.
for the vast majority schools within the south, substantive de-segregation was completed only in like circa 1975. thats like fucking 20 years after Brown v. Board of education.
My father is 52 and he chopped cotton in Louisiana as a child until he was 11
