10 Feb
A Forgotten Hero: “Major” Taylor
Guest author: Joe Greenlee has worked in copywriting for various websites, and currently works for a local, independently owned video store here in Santa Rosa. He has a BA in English literature, and enjoys reading, bookbinding, running, politics and philosophy, and is currently working on his first novel. He hopes to one day own a real rocket pack.
As an avid bicyclist and someone who prides himself on getting around by bicycle quite a bit, it occurs to me that there are a number of tales regarding its beginnings that many are unaware of. When the U.S. first entered the manufacture and widespread use of bicycles in the 19th century, the Gilded Age was in high gear. That meant that although opportunities to advance ones position in life were available, the gap between rich and poor was fairly obvious. It also meant a lot of horse drawn carriages, ingrained racism, and a society hostile to blacks either making a name for themselves or advancing into white dominated fields. When the bicycle industry began, it was associated with white men with a passion for new technologies.
Enter Marshall Walter “Major” Taylor. Born the son of a black horse coachman for a white family, Marshall took his nickname from a military uniform he wore as a child, when he began his career. His beginnings came with a passion for public performance, doing stunts for crowds that gave him automatic (or rather gear-matic) attention for his acrobatic skill. And back then let’s just say bicycle safety was less of an issue for mainstream culture. Bicycles themselves were far less sturdy, often tall and awkwardly proportioned, and no one wore pads or helmets. From there Marshall worked his way into the world of cycling, but alas, he was always bound to a struggle uphill, and the easier downhill cruising was far and further between.
It is hard to imagine in our day how a talented man with drive and athletic gifts could be despised for no good reason, but Marshall was a forerunner for black athletes for decades to come. It came with a price. Winning invited scorn and banishment from such organizations as the YMCA and the Circle City track. Indianapolis would later name its Major Taylor Velodrome racing course after him but such honors were not to be seen in his own time. The fear that he could win whatever he attempted drove lesser competitors to exclude him, and in spite of this adversity he rose to become the highest paid athlete in the entire world, all by the age of 22. He began traveling across America, Australia, and Europe where the public held him in high esteem unlike his own country. He became both a symbol of black pride and the burgeoning new methods of transportation that marked his era.
Today, innovative sports are constantly testing human endurance, and stories filter to us through the media of champions that make their mark, with stories of hope and courage. Truly Marshall Taylor deserves praise for being a source of hope and inspiration to countless minorities who saw his achievements as something to emulate. He belongs in the same pantheon as Babe Ruth and Jesse Owens. Professional sports owes him a debt for being a pioneer, but it also owes him recognition. For all his efforts, Taylor eventually died in poverty, through unsuccessful business ventures and disease. At his peak in popularity, Taylor’s draw was upwards of 30,000 in a time when walking and horseback were common forms of travel and local newspapers and billboards were the only media. Such crowds are equal to millions across the globe tuning in to watch a super-star athlete today. Endorsement sponsors would have vied for his name. It seems back then all anyone wanted to do was forget him.
Today, The Great Handcar Regatta makes a name for itself by emulating the best aspects of the Gilded Age; inventiveness, playful love of hand-built technology, and an adventurous team spirit. Celebrating those things is as important as remembering pioneers like Marshall, whose thanks for his contributions often involved mockery, being doused in cold water on the track, and sharp tacks and nails thrown in front of him while racing. On one occasion, he was assaulted and beaten, and the white man responsible let go without reprimand. These things are unthinkable in our own time, the senseless resentment of African Americans making bold strides towards equality and fame.
When we race, we honor Major Taylor’s memory and those of countless others, who tried so hard to bring racing at all to the public, for enjoyment and personal love. It is a joy to see so many people building and re-inventing the aesthetics of a previous age. It is even more exciting to see them inspired by the social togetherness that previous age did not necessarily embrace.
The following short documentary from the Boston Globe:
Further Reads:
- Wikipedia
- Major Taylor Association
- Major Taylor Cycling Club San Diego
- The Indianapolis Star
- Marshall “Major” Taylor: World Champion Bicyclist, 1899-1901
- The Fastest Bicycle Rider in the World; The Autobiography of Major Taylor
- Major Taylor: The Extraordinary Career of a Champion Bicycle Racer
- Major Taylor, Champion Cyclist
- Major: A Black Athlete, a White Era, and the Fight to Be the World’s Fastest Human Being
Generously divluged by gary Watts on 10.02.10 at 8:28 pm
Thanks for posting this. It is important to note that while we try and emulate the best the times had to offer, there was much unfairness during the time we tend to gloss over.