The night Frankie Manning flipped Frieda
Washington over his back in a heels-over-the-head maneuver
on the dance floor of the Savoy Ballroom in Harlem, he was
more than a little nervous.
The year was 1935, the song was "Down
South Camp Meeting" and the occasion was a swing dance
contest that featured six pelvis-shaking couples. Mr.
Manning, then 21, and his partner, Ms. Washington, were
the last to compete.
"I had to follow all them other teams
that went out there and tore the floor," he said. "Shorty
Snowden, who was the greatest dancer in the world as far
as I was concerned, had just danced in front of me and I
was saying, 'Man, I ain't going out there.' " But as Chick
Webb and his band played, the couple locked arms, and Mr.
Manning, his back to hers, bent over and catapulted Ms.
Washington over him, a split-second feat they had
rehearsed beforehand with his bedroom mattress close by,
just in case.
That move — the first Lindy Hop air
step, according to the International Encyclopedia of Dance
— did more than earn his team a victory that night. It
helped make him a dancing legend.
Over the years he would become a courtly
ballroom ambassador, teaching the swing dance styles to
eager couples from around the world.
But for Mr. Manning — now a 91-year-old
grandfather, retired postal worker and recent inductee
into the Hall of Fame at the National Museum of Dance in
Saratoga Springs, N.Y. — it was just another night at the
Savoy.
Dance halls come and go in New York City
as quickly as fashion trends and pizza parlors. But nearly
50 years after its death, the Savoy has lived on, if only
in revered memories.
On Lenox Avenue between 140th and 141st
Streets, the ballroom was a blocklong rhythm factory that
set New York's jazz-fueled tempo in the 1930's and 1940's.
On any given night, thousands packed the
hardwood dance floor as Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald or
Count Basie supplied the tunes, inspiring the kind of
moves that prompted someone — former patrons like saying
it was Lana Turner — to call the place "the home of happy
feet."
This evening, the ballroom's birthday,
Mr. Manning and more than 100 others who danced or played
music at the Savoy are gathering to remember it, celebrate
their youth and, naturally, dance.
The Savoy — it opened March 12, 1926,
and closed July 10, 1958 — was torn down and a housing
complex called the Delano Village took its place.
Some of the former musicians and dancers
plan to meet at a plaque marking the spot at noon, attend
panel discussions on the Savoy's influence on American
dance history and then finish off the evening with a
dinner and dance at the nearby Alhambra Ballroom.
The event was organized by three men who
never saw the Savoy Ballroom for themselves: Elliott
Donnelley, who runs a production company based in San
Francisco that sponsors Lindy Hop events; Chad Fasca, who
directs the swing program at the Sandra Cameron Dance
Center in Manhattan; and Terry Monaghan, a dance historian
from London who operates a Web site about the Savoy,
www.savoyballroom.com.
During a revival of swing dancing to
big-band music in the late 1980's and 90's, the Savoy's
history enjoyed a resurgence of interest. A younger
generation of dance enthusiasts looked upon it as a
cultural phenomenon that inspired high-flying invention on
the dance floor and brought blacks and whites together in
a time of segregation.
"The Savoy opened the doors for all
people being together," said Norma Miller, 86, who along
with Mr. Manning was an original member of Whitey's Lindy
Hoppers, top Savoy dancers assembled by Herbert White, a
former ballroom bouncer who was known as Whitey. "We were
the first people in the world who were integrated. We
didn't have segregation at the Savoy."
Mr. Manning said patrons were judged by
their talent on the dance floor, not the color of their
skin. Not even the celebrities received special treatment.
One night, someone approached Mr. Manning and his friends.
"Somebody came over and said, 'Hey man, Clark Gable just
walked in the house.' Somebody else said, 'Oh, yeah, can
he dance?' " Mr. Manning recalled. "All they wanted to
know when you came into the Savoy was, do you dance?"
In the spring of 1944, the dance floor
at the Savoy was where Martha Hickson first met the man
she later married. Ms. Hickson is white; her husband,
Foster Hickson, was black. They were married nearly 50
years, until her husband's death in 2000. "He had a
particular way he would lift his feet," said Ms. Hickson,
80, who planned to attend the celebration today. "He
called it the Apple Jack. I don't even have to close my
eyes. I can see him doing that right this minute."
The Savoy's dance floor used to bounce
with the force of all those happy feet, and few remember
it better than Bill London. He was one of a group of
neighborhood teenagers who helped clean the ballroom in
the early morning hours, sweeping the dance floor and
picking up trash.
When he was older, on leave from the
Army, he returned to dance.
"I was going there to have fun and to
get women," said Mr. London, 70. "I cannot lie. But you
had to be able to dance."