News & Advice

How the ‘Green Book’ Shaped a Generation of Black Travelers: Women Who Travel

A new podcast, ‘Driving the Green Book,’ is tracing the legacy of the historic travel guide.
Image may contain Road Freeway Highway Plant Tree Asphalt and Tarmac
Getty

All products featured on Condé Nast Traveler are independently selected by our editors. However, when you buy something through our retail links, we may earn an affiliate commission.

You can listen to our podcast on Apple Podcasts and Spotify each week. Follow this link if you're listening on Apple News.

It was a different time in the summer of 2019 when Janée Woods Weber, an activist and social justice educator, joined BBC presenter Alvin Hall on a road trip tracing the legacy of the Green Book, a travel guide published from 1937 to 1966 that shared safe road routes for Black travelers. But as this summer came around—dubbed the summer of road trips by many, but also filled with marches and social activism addressing police brutality and systemic racism—the duo's trip seemed all the more prescient. It's all gathered in their new podcast from Macmillan, Driving the Green Book, which follows the journeys Black travelers took to the South and the memories those who grew up in the Jim Crow Era have of the groundbreaking book. We sat down with Janée to hear about what went into planning the road trip last year, what stories from Black elders she met along the way have stuck with her, and which Black-owned businesses she can't wait to visit when we're able to travel freely again.

Thanks to Janée for sharing and thanks, as always, to Brett Fuchs for engineering and mixing this episode. As a reminder, you can listen to new episodes of Women Who Travel on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, every Wednesday morning.

Find a full transcription of the episode below.

Meredith Carey: Hi everyone. This is Women Who Travel, a podcast from Condé Nast Traveler. I'm Meredith Carey and with me as always is my co-host, Lale Arikoglu.

Lale Arikoglu: Hello.

MC: This week we're focusing on the Green Book, a travel guide published from 1937 to 1966 that gave a sense of safety and preparation to Black people traveling through the U.S. Today's guest is Janée Woods Weber, an activist and social justice educator, who co-hosts a new podcast called Driving the Green Book which looks into the guidebook's legacy. Thanks so much for joining us Janée.

Janée Woods Weber: Thank you for having me.

LA: So before we get into all the fine details of this amazing trip that you took to create this podcast, I wanted to kind of kick things off with asking you how long you'd wanted to explore the legacy of the Green Book for? Was that something you've been working towards for a long time?

JWW: I first became very interested in exploring the Green Book when Alvin Hall, who is the other person involved with the podcast, completed a radio series for the BBC about the Green Book. And as he was working on that project and telling me about the Green Book, of course, I became more and more interested. And then the movie came out, the Green Book movie, which was the toast of Hollywood. And my interest was piqued because I did not know about the Green Book growing up. I am a Black woman, but I had never heard of the Green Book until I was well into adulthood. So the opportunity to learn this piece of history that had been hidden away from me was a really exciting opportunity. And of course, when Alvin invited me to join him on this road trip, I had to say yes.

LA: Talk us through a little bit what that planning was like for that trip. How did you go about starting to plot the route and all of the stops?

JWW: The road trip was inspired when Alvin saw the Migration Series by the revered Black artist Jacob Lawrence at the Museum of Modern Art. And in that art installation, there's an infographic that shows how black people migrated from the South during the Great Migration and during the Jim Crow Era into areas North and West in the country. And this inspired Alvin to look at the places where Black folks ended up in this country after they left the South. And there were numerous cities in the Midwest where people landed, including Detroit. And in the early 1900s, Detroit was only about 1.5 percent African American, but by 1970, because of the Great Migration, it was more than 40 percent African American. And all of those folks that moved there, many of them still had families that lived down South. So they would travel and take road trips from the North back down South.

So we decided to recreate the routes that they would take. So we started our road trip in Detroit, and we went through Columbus, Cincinnati, Louisville, Nashville, Memphis, Jackson, Birmingham, Selma, Montgomery, Mobile, and we ended up in New Orleans. And as we mapped out the route we explored, what artifacts could we find that still existed from the Green Book? Who were people that lived there who had stories about these places or who had experiences using the Green Book? And we started reaching out to folks and setting up interviews and planning our itinerary. And then we set off on the road and we ended up with this amazing podcast.

MC: I'm curious how the conversations that you had with those people who might have experienced using the Green Book themselves, or had stories passed down from their family, how that changed or reinforced what you had already learned about the Green Book previously?

JWW: What we discovered as we went in search of these stories about the Green Book was that we learned more about the memories and the feelings people had about living during that time and how they and their families navigated these perilous conditions on the road. And the stories we heard were less about the Green Book itself and more about the ways in which African Americans create a community and found ways to travel safely. And I was very surprised to discover that like myself, many of these African American people—some of whom were older enough to be of my grandparents' generation—were not aware of the Green Book. And that was fascinating because what we learned through the stories and memories that they shared was that, as young children, they were shielded from some of the realities around segregation and racism by their parents, by their grandparents, and by their guardians. So even though many of these people recalled the preparations for these long road trips—they had memories of driving through the night and not stopping—they never knew exactly why because they were shielded. And we met with this wonderful woman, Dr. Evelyn E. Nettles, who is at Tennessee State University, one of our famed HBCUs, historically black colleges and universities, in the United States. And we asked her, "Do you remember having a Green Book?" And she said, "I don't recall having a Green Book. I don't remember my father having one." And I think that just shows how Black folks were very protective of the younger generations and tried to help them hold on to the joy of their childhoods for just a little bit longer even though they knew eventually the realities of the Jim Crow world would catch up to them.

LA: That feels like just such a heartbreaking choice for parents to have to make, to sort of decide to shield their children from a certain reality just to, as you said, extend childhood innocence and joy for just that bit longer. How did you sort of find the people that you spoke to and find the people that had a breadth of different experiences and memories of these road trips?

JWW: A lot of word of mouth, a lot of calling folks in the communities where we wanted to visit, speaking with people who worked at the NAACP, talking with local historians, asking folks, who do you know who might have stories about this? And we had situations where we would invite a person to come and talk with us and they would bring a few of their friends and they all shared stories. And it was a really wonderful experience. And I do believe that the stories that were shared with us and the folks who agreed to sit down with us did so because they knew that the way we were trying to capture and save these stories was different. What Alvin and I wanted to do with this podcast was to tell the story of the Green Book from the Black perspective. This is a podcast about Black history. And of course Black history is American history. Black stories are American stories. But too often, those stories get told from the perspective of whiteness through the white gaze. And we see that with the Green Book movie, which is a revered movie, won lots of accolades, the performances are excellent. But the perspective is told from the white character's perspective, not from the perspective of the Black character, who is the one who would have had to navigate all of the challenges that necessitated the Green Book being written. Alvin and I really wanted to bring that light to this particular element of our history. And because we were able to sit down as Black people with Black people and talk about our shared history, there's a magic that happens. And you can hear that in the podcast.

MC: You grew up on the East Coast, talk us through some of the Black history that you learned driving through the South on this trip.

JWW: I learned a lot of Black history because I am a biracial Black woman. I grew up with my white mother and her white family in New England. I didn't learn a lot of Black history. I learned what was in my school books. I learned that my people's history in this country began as enslaved people. I learned that Dr. Martin Luther King had a dream. That was pretty much the extent of what I was taught about my ancestors.

So on this trip, I discovered so many things that were not apparent to me because nobody told me. For example, I was really gratified to discover the long history of Black women's entrepreneurship in the South. Black women were the economic backbone of Black communities. They ran boarding houses. They ran hotels. They ran restaurants. They ran laundries. And I didn't know this because my understanding, my mistake in understanding, of Black women's economic involvement in the '20s, '30s, '40s was solely as domestics because that's what you see in the movies. You see Black women being maids, you see Black women being nannies. I wasn't quite aware of the fact that Black women ran thriving businesses. So I was extremely gratified to learn that. And I had an opportunity to meet a woman who owned her own thriving Black business during the Green Book era. On one of our last days of the road trip, we were in Louisiana and we stopped to meet a lovely, lovely woman named Miss Odile Washington. Miss Odile Washington had the distinction of not only being one of the oldest people in Louisiana, it was right around her 110th birthday, I think she was also one of the oldest people in the country. She was the founder, the proprietor, of the Starlight Cafe, which was a restaurant, a hotel, and a lounge in Gert Town, Louisiana. And so many of the greats, the Black greats, musicians, actors, athletes passed through the doors of her establishment. And she was a cornerstone of the Black community for years. And even in her advanced age, she still loved to talk about how much she loved to cook and how everybody loved her cooking, and that's what made her place so popular.

Another thing that we learned driving through different communities on this road trip was that when Black travelers were moving about the country, they always knew where the Black street was in every city. For example, it was Farish Street in Jackson, Mississippi. It was Jefferson Street in Nashville, which is also where three of our HBCUs are located, Meharry Medical College, Tennessee State, and Fisk University. So this area was like a real center of Black excellence. There were neighborhoods where Black people owned homes. There were Black businesses. There were these Black universities. This was a thriving, thriving community until the highway, Interstate 40, was routed through this neighborhood and destroyed homeownership, isolated these Black businesses. Many of them ended up going out of business and you can really see how it changed the character of that neighborhood. And that's a story we learned happened in numerous communities across the country. A Black neighborhood would be thriving, and then in the name of economic progress, or cultural development, or urban renewal—which Alvin and I jokingly call “Negro removal”—these highways or these other roadways would be built through these communities and would decimate them.

LA: That feels like such a sort of brutal metaphor for what you were talking about in terms of the history, or the lack of Black history that you were taught, like this sort of bulldozing, in this case, physical bulldozing, of Black history and Black legacy. What was that sort of emotional journey for you and Alvin like as you moved further South, and you went through these neighborhoods and communities that had once been so thriving? And then also to discover these parts of history that you had not been taught growing up?

JWW: I believe Alvin and I had different experiences and reactions around that. Of course we both shared that sense of loss of Black culture, of Black economic progress, of Black excellence from these communities. But for me, it was more of a revelation because even though the African American side of my family traces its roots to the Deep South, Alabama specifically, I've never really spent any significant time in the South. So I don't have memories or family stories about these thriving neighborhoods, whereas Alvin, who is from the Deep South, and who grew up during the time of the Green Book and also during the Voting Rights Era, has memories of these thriving communities and of the strife that happened in these communities because he was there.

MC: This podcast is so filled with complex stories, complicated stories, and joyful stories. What are some of the stories that didn't make it into the podcast?

JWW: So many. There are 10 episodes in this podcast. We could have made several dozen stories. There were stories from folks we interviewed that didn't make it into the podcast. For example, I mentioned Dr. Evelyn Nettles from Tennessee State, and she had a story that was so profound to me. And again, speaks to what I mentioned before about the older generation trying to protect the younger generation. She told a story about how when she was around five or six years old, she wanted to get some ice cream or candy. So her grandmother gave her some money and she went into the store to buy her treats, and she walked up to the counter to pay for them. Her grandmother, who had been outside the store, looked in the window and saw her little Black granddaughter standing at the counter, which was for whites only. Her grandmother rushed into the store and snatched her out and brought her right outside. And Dr. Nettles, she didn't know why, she didn't know what had happened. And it wasn't until years later that she understood that her grandmother was trying to protect her from some harm that could befall her. Because as a young innocent child, she had walked into a part of the store where she was not welcome solely because of the color of her skin, even though she was practically a baby.

So that's a story from an interviewee that didn't make it, but there are hours and hours of tape of Alvin and I talking and reflecting in the car, because we spent a lot of time in the car—more than 2,000 miles together in the car—reflecting on our feelings, memories that were coming up for us, questions that were lingering about the places we had visited. And sometimes there was just silence because there are no words, no words to describe what is happening. And I hope that there might be some way, someday, to share some of the stories and the chat that we had in the car, because the way that we both related to this experience was different because, as I mentioned, I'm from the Northeast and Alvin is from the Deep South, but we're also of different generations. We've been friends for a couple of decades, but we're of different generations. And so our orientation to this history is a little bit different. Because for me, it was an act of discovery. And for Alvin, it was walking back into the memories of his young adult life, of his adolescence, and of his childhood. And the conversations we had around those different touch points were really moving and profound. And I think it really speaks to why it's important to gather these oral histories and to preserve these stories from the perspectives of the people who lived them, because we need to share this information with each other. We need to make sure that it's preserved for all of us to understand

LA: Talking about those very long car rides together, and all these conversations, being from different generations, and you touched on it slightly, but what do you think you were able to give each other during those long periods together? What do you think you learned from Alvin and also taught him, and vice-versa?

JWW: I learned a lot about how to sit down and connect with people, with Black elders, from Alvin. I didn't have the privilege of growing up with Black elders in my family and being able to interview so many of these wonderful people with amazing stories was such a gift. I do believe it's changed me. All of their stories now live inside of me. Alvin was able to approach those interviews and that story collection from a point of shared history with these elders that I don't have—even though I am dealing with the repercussions of this history in my own life, because we are still living through the consequences and the results of segregation of Jim Crow, et cetera. Alvin helped me open a door into understanding Blackness in an even deeper way. Understanding Blackness outside of my own personal experience.

I hope Alvin learned from me that there's still joy to be found in this process. It can be very difficult to embark on a trip where basically your subject matter is: how people thrived and survived in a time of racism. That can feel a little bit doom and gloom, but I was really focused on finding the moments of joy, the moments of levity, the ways in which people were able to build vibrant communities. That's always been important to me and I was always constantly trying to lift that up and search for that. So I do believe I brought a little bit of the joy for Alvin, and I think I also introduced him to Lizzo's album, which we listened to several times on this road trip. And he introduced me to some of the great Motown artists of that time, like the Marvelettes. And actually we have a playlist that you can find on the drivingthegreenbook.com website, which has all of the artists from this era. I was familiar with some of them, but I had never heard of a few of them. And Alvin played their music for me. And I am now a fan.

MC: I love that. We'll link to the playlist in the show notes so that everybody can go check it out. This past summer was hailed by many travel publications and media in general, as the summer of the road trip, since Americans have been grounded during the pandemic. But in 2020, that is still a complicated and quite privileged statement. What was your takeaway from your road trip experience?

JWW: Alvin and I are very much aware of the fact that the promise of the open road, the promise of free mobility across this country is not afforded to African Americans the same way it is to white Americans. And so, as we were on the road, we were extremely conscious of that fact. And I'll admit we had some anxiety around it. For example, I drove almost the whole way. We never had an explicit conversation about it, but we both know that a Black man behind the wheel of a nice car can attract the scrutiny of people that we don't want to deal with on the road. So I drove most of the way. We never had a conversation about it, but that's why. We were also very cognizant of the fact that often we didn't know where we were going, because we had never been on these roads before. And a funny aside is, Alvin didn't quite trust the GPS. So he had this giant paper map that he would pull out. And I was like, "Yeah, we really are of different generations, Alvin, enjoy your map. I'm going to use the GPS." But we knew, driving in places that were not familiar to us, we made sure that we were only driving during the day. We weren't driving at night. We were very conscious about where we stopped. And there were a few times when we needed to get gas or we wanted to get something to drink and we'd drive by a place, and we’d just look at each other and we have the feeling that it wasn't safe. And so we would keep on moving until we got to a place that we felt comfortable with.

And as we were dealing with those things in the back of our minds, as we were traveling on the road, we were reminded that this was just one small example of what travelers during Jim Crow dealt with. We were feeling this anxiety around being on the road with all of our privileges and all of our access to resources, and during a time when segregation is outlawed, and more people are more open-minded—but we were still concerned. I don't know how people dealt with the magnitude of that anxiety in the ‘30s, in the ‘40s, and the ‘50s, especially if they were traveling alone or with young children.

And we had an experience that mirrored the relief that Green Book travelers might have felt when we were in Nashville. We also met Ana Nettles who is Dr. Nettles’ niece. And when Ana heard that we were looking for a place to have dinner that evening, she invited us over to her house, just in the way that Black folks would open their homes to other weary fellow Black travelers on the road, even when they didn't know them. And so that night, Alvin and I are driving through Nashville. It's a torrential downpour. It’s now dark. We can't see anything. We don't know where we're going. Alvin still has his map out. We don't know where we're going. And finally, we pull up in front of this beautiful, gracious home. The lights come up. Ana Nettles, she comes running out of the house, into the rain. She has umbrellas for us. We're ushered into her home. Like we're long lost family that they haven't seen in ages. There are warm drinks. Wine is immediately being poured into glasses for us. We are welcomed into their family home. We are made comfortable, we're warm, we're fed. It was such an amazing experience. And we felt such relief, we felt such comfort, because we'd had a long day. We were tired from driving, we didn't know what to expect, and this family embraced us and gave us a safe haven. That must have been what Green Book travelers felt when they showed up to a tourist home, or boarding house, or the home of a family friend who is going to offer them a place to stay on the road. It was really quite an incredible and humbling experience to be able to live a little bit of that history for myself.

LA: You mentioned, when you would arrive in cities like Nashville, you wanted to put your dollars into Black businesses. What are some of the modern day 2020 businesses that you fell in love with on the road, or who took you in, or that you got to spend your money at?

JWW: Well, my favorite place, it exists in 2020, but it's actually quite old: the very revered Dooky Chase restaurant in New Orleans. I've been to New Orleans a few times for work and I'd never been to Dooky Chase, so I was super excited. It was run by the famed cook, Leah Chase, who passed away last year. This restaurant is Black-owned, serves Black soul food, and has been in operation for decades and I was so excited. It was the last place that Alvin and I ate together on this trip. For 2,000 miles, we talked about how excited we were to go there, because Alvin and I, one of the things that we love to do is eat together. So we were so, so incredibly thrilled to finally arrive at Dooky Chase. I didn't really know what to expect, because I had never been there before. So I was really delighted to discover when I walked through the front doors of that restaurant, it has this refined air. It was a beautiful dining room, beautiful tables with white tablecloths, lovely servers walking around attending to the needs of the diners. Then in the back of the restaurant are these long tables with the most delectable, scrumptious-looking soul food you have ever seen in your entire life. It looks like all your aunties and all your grandmothers came together to deliver this manna from heaven to you. Alvin and I piled our plates high. We had hot sausage, we had fried chicken, we had green beans, we had cornbread. We sat down at that table and we ate and we ate and we laughed and we were so happy and I cannot wait to go back there. I highly recommend everybody has to experience Dooky Chase at least once—or 20 times—in your lifetime.

MC: I would love to know, just as a last question, what you hope listeners of the podcast walk away with?

JWW: A couple of things. I hope all listeners, but especially young, Black people feel inspired to talk to their elders, to gather their stories about our history. It's often not told in the history books and when it is on screens, it's often from the white perspective. I think it's important for us to collect and tell our stories to the world, with our voices, with our experiences. I also hope that everyone understands and realizes that despite the numerous challenges around racism and white supremacy and economic oppression, African Americans are innovative and resilient people and we have thrived in this country. Black people are extraordinary and we have so many more stories to offer. Just the fact that I'm sitting here generations later, I'm a descendant of enslaved Africans. My Black family grew up in the Deep South during reconstruction, during Jim Crow. I'm here right now, exploring this. I'm a testament to the fact that we are strong, that we are still here. We're still here and we're going to be here.

MC: That feels like the perfect place to wrap up. If people want to listen to Driving The Green Book, where can they find it?

JWW: Apple Podcasts.

MC: Perfect. And where can people find you on social media?

JWW: You can find me on Twitter at @janeepwoods.

MC: If you want to learn more about the podcast, we will link to a story that we have on our site in the show notes and you can learn more, hear more stories—read them, and then go click through to hear them. You can find me @ohheytheremere.

LA: You can find me @lalehannah.

MC: Be sure to follow Women Who Travel on Instagram and subscribe to our newsletter. Thank you so much Janée for joining us—and we'll talk to everyone else next week.