ENPages
(seq. 11)
"and now" as The church of England preacher used to say in the Canadian prison, "let us rise and sing the jubilate." Give love, for me and from me to all: Sarah Bode and Yourself.
I know you are doing the best you can - and so am I.
Just a line when you have time
Gratfully
John Black
(seq. 12)
REFORMATORY FOR WOMEN Framingham, Mass.
February 9, 1933
Miriam Van Waters Superintendent
Mr. Jack Black 19 West 103rd St New York City, N.Y
Dear JackBlack
Your letter was greeted with joy. Last Saturday we had the Connicks out too, and Mr. Dennison and his son-in-law, Edmund Smith I let Mr. and Mrs. Connick see your letter, and it brought them a feeling of happiness. Young Mr. Smith says that the Boston Ad club wants you to talk here in Boston If this want is accompanied by money, I shall let you know at once.
I wish you could stay with us for a visit. You will try to do this, won't you? Bode and Sarah are counting on it.
Jack a lot of things have been happening to me. On December 6th I left for a two week vacation, and spell of writing and visiting prisons in Georgia and Florida I stayed on the plantation of Mrs. Lewis S. Thompson. I was a little out of my depth because Ex-Secretary of Her Haker was a guest at the same time. Also they played bridge. I learned what I could, and maybe it has helped me with my Civil Service problems here. Mrs. Thompson as I think you have heard me say before, is one of the world's wisest and most generous persons. I enjoyed my visit there more than I can tell you, and it really rested me. It knocked my preparations for Christmas off considerably. I am telling you this because it makes Sarah's gift to you more significent. During my absence she boarded in a fine country home, but she insisted on going to town to shop for you herself. She counts you as one of her heroes.
We had a really beautiful Christmas here with plays, good music and I think as happy a time as can be spent in prison. I have been doing a good deal with the leisure time activities of our group, and have now arranged for fairly prompt sales of the produce. Ultimately the women will get something substantial
(seq. 13)
-2-
out of it.
About two weeks ago my fine horse "Lady" slipped on the ice and fell. I have been more or less used up since. I was not really hurt but there is a crack in my skull. They say it is a fracture, but anticipate no permanent damage. This explains why I did not answer your letter immediately.
I am so sorry to hear that you have had the flu. Take every care of yourself.
Ever yours,
(seq. 14)
March 28, 1933
Mr. John Black 19 West 103rd St New York City, N. Y
Dear Jack Black:
Itis great good news that you are coming to us April 15th. Please stay as long as you can.
The Connicks let me see a letter from you which greatly relieved my mind. I suppose our nerves are more or less jumpy these times, and I was unduly apprehensive, but I had the idea you might be sick.
We have a group of fifteen young college graduates who are waiting to have you talk to them. I tld them they could ask in some friends. Between them they have raised $25. and deposited some with me in cash, so I send you a check for this amount. It is possible there will be another lecture date also, since the Dennisons are interested. Mr. Dennison is serving with Mr. Connick and me on a hand work committee for our girls.
The date of your lecture to our young interns and staff can be fixed to suit your convenience when you come. Sarah is having vacation, and is happy to have Shady Hill children coming in to spend it with her. Miss Bode and all of our household send greetings.
Ever yours,
MVW/K
(seq. 15)
Jack Blackis Dead
I am sure that my friend Jack Black is dead. More than a month ago he disappeared from his residence at 19 West One Hundred and Third Street, New York and since that time no one has heard of him.
With the readers of The Call Bulletin it is hardly necessary to go deeply into the details about who Jack Black is. When Jack finished his last penitentiary sentance in San Quentin twenty years ago, he came directly to my ranch in Santa Clara County firmly resolved to cut out his old life forever. Every one who knows his story knows how faithfully he has kept his word. From the day he first appeared at the ranch it has been his home. His work in the circulation department of the old bulletin and his subsequent employment as librarian of The Call made it necesary for him to live in the city, but he knew that as long as Mrs. Older and I lived the ranch was his home, and we regarded him as a member of our family.
For years after he came out of prison I tried to prevail upon him to write his life. I had long known that he was a gifted writer, but it was not until 1925 that he wrote that absorbingly interesting story which was first published as a serial in The Call in 1925. Within a month after the story started it was the talk of the town and Jack who was as gifted a talker as he was a writer, was in demand at men's club dinners and luncheons and by social workers and those interested in prison reform.
When the serial was finished the Macmillan Publishing Company of New York in 1926, brought it out in book form under the title of "You Can't Win."
In a short time after its publication it became the most discussed book in America and in London. The Times of that city gave it a page review and declared that Jack Black was a literary artist. It had favorable reviews everywhere, and has since been translated into Russian, Swedish and French.
Shortly after the book was published, Jack collaborated with Bessie Beatty and the book was made into a play, "Salt Chunk Mary," and produced in Los Angeles by Lucille Laverne who assumed the title role. After a long run the play was taken to New York but owing to a disagreement between the author and Lucille La Verne it was not given a New York production.
Meanwhile, Jack had so grown in popularity that he spent his winters in New York and made a comfortable living, lecturing under the auspices of the National Broadcasting Company He delivered many free lectures before women's clubs, in churches and before the student bodies of Harvard and Yale His summers he spent at my ranch.
A very wealthy New York woman offered to finance Jack in a bureau to be established for helping ex-convicts. He wouldn't take a cent of her money, he told me, because he was afraid the bureau would develop into a racket and he would be holding a job just for a salary.
When he came out of prison he had within him the seeds of tuberculosis. He was warned by an expert that his years were limited. He grew weaker each year, but never mentioned it to any one. He left the ranch last September for New York noticeably much weaker than he had ever been bfore. The depression had made it more difficult for him to get lecture engagements. In fact, there were so few that he was compelled to use his small savings for his living expenses.
In November last, his play, under the title, "Jamboree," was produced at Yanderbilt Theater but most of the critics tore into it savagely, and it failed. In his weakened condition, this discouraged him and when Spring came he did not have sufficient money to pay his way to the ranch. Of course to any one of his many friends it would have been a