Overlooked is a series of obituaries about remarkable people whose deaths, beginning in 1851, went unreported in The Times.
By Nichelle Gainer
In less than five years, Morgan went from renting booths in salons to opening “the biggest Negro beauty parlor in the world,” as Ebony magazine called it in 1946. Her salon, the Rose Meta House of Beauty, grossed more than million in sales in its first few years and became a fixture in Harlem. It went beyond hair care, offering skin care, massages and other services that were rarely available to black women at the time, and women traveled to the salon from all over the country.
Morgan was born in Edwards, Miss., in 1912, one of nine children of Winnie (Robinson) Morgan, a homemaker, and Chapple Morgan, who rented land on a cotton plantation in Mississippi before moving the family to Chicago, where he worked in the hotel business.
Morgan had always been inspired by her father’s business sense, she said. As a girl she cut flowers out of crepe paper and went door-to-door selling them with her friends.
“We sold them for five cents a bunch, and I would give them a penny on a bunch, so I was in business at the age of 10,” she said.
She started styling hair for friends and neighbors at 12. “I’ve always had a great imagination,” she said, “and I could do things with my hands.” By 16 she was making enough money to drop out of high school with confidence, despite warnings from her father. “I decided that I wasn’t going to let any grass grow under my feet,” she said in the 1988 interview.
Her father insisted that she get a job, so she started working in a laundromat, shaking sheets. After the first night, she had a hard time raising her sore arms and decided that laundry wasn’t for her. She went back to doing hair full-time. Clients would arrive at her house at 5:30 or 6 a.m. to get their hair done before work. Once her customer base grew, she attended cosmetology school to get her license.
She arrived in New York with 0, enough to rent a booth in a salon for a week.
The salon was in Sugar Hill, the fabled Upper Manhattan enclave of rich and famous blacks of the day, and word spread quickly about Morgan’s technique. She was known for using less hair product to achieve a softer, bouncier feel for hair that could turn out stiff in the wrong hands.
Before long, she realized that she would need her own space. Around the same time, she had met a new friend who owned a dress shop on 142nd Street and Seventh Avenue. “I said, ‘Do you use your kitchen?’ She said no, so I rented it, took the stove out and put in two booths, one for myself and one for another girl,” she recalled in a 2002 oral history for The HistoryMakers. “That’s how I really started working for myself.”
Morgan expanded her business once more after meeting Olivia Clarke, a skin care specialist with degrees in biology from Virginia State College and New York University. Clarke suggested combining her scientific knowledge and skin care expertise with Morgan’s hairdressing prowess, and the women struck a deal. Morgan sold her a third of the business, and they began scouting for a location for a bigger full-service salon. They found it when they came across a property on Sugar Hill that had been vacant for nearly 20 years and was said to be haunted.
On May 6, 1945, Morgan opened the salon with a grand ceremony in which the Rev. Adam Clayton Powell Jr., newly elected to Congress, cut the ribbon. The “haunted house” became the Rose Meta House of Beauty, spanning five floors with more than 30 employees working as hairstylists, massage therapists and skin care specialists. By 1955, the salon was renovated again, with an expansion that included a dressmaking department, a diet and body department and a charm school to teach etiquette. Rose Meta (pronounced MEE-tah) was an oasis that signaled elegance and calm for black women in a world that was, for the most part, more accustomed to being pampered by black women than pampering them.
“We had someone to check your coat; nobody took care of themselves,” Morgan said.
Formality and respect for clients was paramount. Morgan forbade her employees from talking with clients outside of questions and answers about their service for the day. If an employee became a little chatty, Morgan would sweep in with a friendly “Hello, Mrs. Smith! How are you today?” Code for stop talking.
Morgan also had a strict policy on addressing clients. “You never called anybody Lucy, Sarah or Rose,” she said. “Whatever your last name, they had to call you by your last name.”
These policies went a lot deeper than mere formality at a time when black people were purposefully not addressed with respect. In those years, some were so frustrated at being referred to so informally, they gave their children names that automatically conveyed respect, such as Major, Sergeant or General. There was no need for concern in Morgan’s salon, however.
Special events like fashion shows were too large for the salon, so they were held at bigger venues in Harlem, like the Renaissance Ballroom and Casino or the Rockland Palace. Rose-scented cologne wafted through the air as models showed off Morgan’s signature hairstyles. She then developed and sold a full line of cosmetics. Most makeup companies at the time didn’t bother making products for people with darker skin. Rose Morgan Cosmetics offered face powder in three shades, Peach, Honey, and Brown.
In 1955, Morgan married the boxing legend Joe Louis, an event that was covered by The New York Times. She created a cologne called “My Man” as a tribute to him, though their tumultuous union was annulled after just three years. Money, or Louis’s lack of care with it, was a big issue.
Despite the success of her enterprise, including banking more than million in her first decade, Morgan had challenges getting even small business loans because of her race. “I had banked with Manufacturers Trust for 10 years,” she said in the 1988 video interview. “They would let you have money to buy a car but not for something constructive. I went to them and tried to borrow some money and couldn’t get a dime.”
Experiences like that encouraged her to get involved in the banking industry herself, and in 1964 Morgan helped start Freedom National Bank, a rare black-owned commercial bank in New York.
Styles eventually changed, and Morgan’s salon went out of fashion. “When I saw the ending coming, I sold,” she said.
Some years later she returned to Chicago, where she died on Dec. 16, 2008. She was 96.
“I never denied myself anything,” she said. “I traveled all over the world. I did all the things I wanted to do.”B:
彩票开奖查询103期【战】【王】【府】，【主】【院】【正】【堂】 【柳】【虞】【屏】【坐】【在】【姬】【云】【欢】【的】【腿】【上】，【软】【声】【哝】【语】【道】。 “【王】【爷】，【屏】【儿】【听】【说】【白】【哥】【哥】【病】【了】，【好】【几】【次】【派】【人】【递】【帖】【子】，【说】【是】【想】【要】【见】【王】【爷】【一】【面】。” 【姬】【云】【欢】【一】【听】，【眉】【头】【一】【皱】：“【不】【见】！” “【屏】【儿】，【这】【种】【恶】【毒】【的】【毒】【夫】，【你】【少】【跟】【他】【往】【来】，【省】【得】【被】【他】【教】【坏】【了】。” 【对】【于】【白】【无】【霜】【这】【个】【被】【休】【弃】【的】【王】【君】，【在】【他】【还】【是】【贵】【侍】【的】【时】【候】
【南】【公】【玥】【看】【着】【那】【黑】【雾】【旋】【涡】【中】【心】【挣】【扎】【的】【扭】【曲】【面】【孔】，【一】【时】【有】【些】【出】【神】。【闵】【长】【秋】【那】【凄】【厉】【的】【尖】【叫】【和】【扭】【曲】【的】【表】【情】，【南】【公】【玥】【还】【能】【理】【解】，【可】【是】【他】【扭】【曲】【的】【脸】【上】，【显】【现】【出】【来】【的】【冤】【屈】【又】【是】【哪】【里】【来】【的】？【莫】【非】【是】【慕】【家】【对】【他】【做】【了】【什】【么】？ “【我】【们】【现】【在】【怎】【么】【办】？【要】【阻】【止】【他】【吗】？”【南】【公】【玥】【问】【向】【君】【渊】。 “【已】【经】【来】【不】【及】【了】。”【君】【渊】【抬】【头】【看】【向】【天】【空】【说】【道】。 【他】
【身】【后】【血】【奴】【嘈】【杂】【的】【嘶】【吼】【声】【渐】【远】，【但】【坎】【雷】【尔】【与】【这】【剑】【舞】【者】【已】【经】【上】【了】【数】【十】【个】【台】【阶】，【快】【到】【二】【楼】【了】，【仍】【没】【有】【在】【前】【边】【看】【到】【一】【点】【光】【亮】，【甚】【至】【是】【步】【入】【黑】【暗】，【两】【人】【不】【得】【不】【都】【起】【了】【疑】【心】。 【这】【是】【否】【意】【味】【着】【二】【楼】【已】【然】【变】【成】【了】【危】【机】【四】【伏】【的】【战】【场】？【那】【些】【从】【四】【面】【八】【方】【汇】【聚】【而】【来】【的】【高】【层】【是】【否】【还】【健】【在】？【这】【些】【都】【变】【得】【没】【了】【底】。 “【给】【你】，【拿】【着】。”【白】【衣】【人】【将】
【这】【是】【最】【后】【一】【章】【了】，【求】【尾】【订】！ 【这】【几】【天】【每】【天】【都】【看】【到】【各】【种】【平】【台】【上】【的】【网】【友】【刷】【屏】，【说】【要】【放】【弃】【苹】【果】【支】【持】【国】【产】【的】，【谢】**【姑】【且】【信】【以】【为】【真】，【所】【以】【就】【想】【出】【了】【一】【个】【很】【好】【玩】【的】【做】【法】，【立】【刻】【把】【全】【公】【司】【所】【有】【高】【层】【领】【导】【以】【及】【股】【东】【们】【都】【叫】【到】【了】【办】【公】【室】【里】，【宣】【布】【自】【己】【的】【这】【个】【想】【法】。 3【月】13【号】，【中】【午】。 【办】【公】【室】【里】【聚】【集】【了】【满】【满】【一】【大】【桌】【子】【人】，【谢】**
【送】【走】【英】【国】【人】【之】【后】，【聂】【伤】【便】【在】【汶】【北】【长】【时】【间】【停】【留】，【四】【处】【视】【察】，【处】【理】【移】【民】【事】【务】。 【汶】【北】【的】【移】【民】【不】【都】【是】【住】【在】【城】【里】【的】，【实】【际】【上】【城】【池】【很】【小】，【主】【要】【是】【军】【事】【和】【行】【政】【功】【能】，【生】【活】【功】【能】【并】【不】【完】【善】。 【里】【面】【驻】【扎】【着】【军】【队】，【储】【存】【着】【粮】【草】【军】【械】，【真】【正】【常】【住】【城】【内】【的】【只】【有】【一】【些】【军】【官】、【贵】【族】、【百】【工】【和】【他】【们】【的】【家】【属】。 【大】【多】【数】【移】【民】【都】【住】【在】【城】【外】【的】【拓】【荒】【营】【地】