Uncle Billy

My mother had two sisters and two brothers. Uncle Billy was the baby and I was told always mischievous. When he was drafted into the army in WW2, his brother Eddie was already fighting in Italy, he was sent to Fort Dix, N.J to take his basic training. Not wanting to be in a segregated army he pretended to have a mental problem so he could be discharged; they finally admitted him to a psyche unit for evaluation.
One day as he was going through the chow line and the server said “move your ass nigger!”
Uncle Billy in his hospital robe threw down his tray and rushed to the commanding Generals’ office, dashed pass the generals aide and shouted to the General “sir do you want to stop a race riot “. The General said “where, when!” Billy replied if some white SOB in the mess hall calls me a nigger again there’s going to be one right here. Rather than lock him up he was summarily discharged that day with a section 8.
Uncle Billy was a young version of our Papa; telling tales and taking on a different persona to suit the situation
At times he was Professor Herberto, a far eastern mystic wearing a robe and turban, who conjured up “policy numbers” for people to play. Sending them out written on incense boxes or paper fortune slips he sold for his subscribers to play. Literally hundreds of these a day was mailed and many would hit! People were poor and bet 1, 5, 10 and at the most 25 cents. A penny paid 22 dollars. DO THE MATH. (. Naturally those that hit would send him a little piece of the win which was called a “coattail”. He did this for years and had ads in the Black weekly papers from NYC to Chicago and Pittsburg to Atlanta. He did real well with this hustle and once I saw paper bags of money stashed in closets and drawers throughout his home.
He also declared himself the Rev.William Bothwell Herbert (I don’t know what his bone’ fide’s were or where he got his it Reverend) but he started a store front church in Harlem and had an enraptured congregation, that loved him. Eventually housing him in the luxurious Lennox Terrace Apartments in the middle of Harlem.
He married a beautician who was high yellow, fine and 15 years his junior. At the time Uncle Billy was about 50 years old.
One of his business ventures was that every spring he would take his big black Road Master Buick and canvas the south selling hair straightener (conk) to Black folks.
with Mary doing their hair.
When he left NYC he and Mary were side by side up front, but as soon as he crossed the Mason-Dixon Line he’d have her get in the back seat and put he’d on his chauffeurs cap. This ruse avoided stops and harassment and probably being lynched for being with a “white women”.
Uncle Billy died recently at 96 years old. I really loved the family player, who my mother tried to have me keep my distance as a poor influence to me and my cousins, but how could I. I’ve got more tales about him later.