“Tom Smith liked clothes.”
The Afro-American covered every detail of Thomas R. Smith’s 1938 funeral. Five women wept. “Two were relatives.” United States Senator George Radcliffe spoke at the service, which was held on the lawn of Smith’s home at 6621 Reisterstown Road. Inside the house, Tom’s body was dressed in striped trousers; a satin, striped black ascot; and a black coat with a gardenia in the buttonhole. In his closet, he left sixteen pairs of white shoes, silk shirts and boxers, and “innumerable suits of all kinds, colors and materials.”
On the lawn of Smith’s home, across from where Reisterstown Plaza now sits, mourners interacted with his herd of goats, who demanded to have their heads scratched. One goat chewed on a political poster announcing a candidate for governor.
This post is not about Tom Smith; not really. But I can’t write about John Weaver, who tended bar at Smith’s Hotel for twenty-six years and called his boss “Chief,” without writing about Smith himself.
How could I not include the fact that Smith, according to the Afro-American “maintained his dominion by aid of an elaborate set-up which prevented any illegal business being conducted without his knowledge or consent,” or that he influenced Baltimore’s Black citizens to vote Democrat in a time when that was unheard of?
I can’t leave out the eleven homes Smith left behind, the stocks he owned in white hotels including the Southern, and a reported fortune in jewelry. One ring had been pawned to him by the mother of Wallis Warfield, Duchess of Windsor. According to the Afro-American, “It was a chief sport of his to exhibit these precious stones to feminine friends and see the glitter in their eyes. But they seldom, if ever, got beyond merely trying on one of the lovely rings. Yet he allowed a relative, a mere boy, to wear for months a diamond ring worth thousands.” (Note: A thousand dollars in 1938 is equivalent to almost $22,000 today.)
For years, the Afro ran a news feature entitled “Smith’s Hotel,” listing the people staying each week in its 26 rooms.
The hotel stood at 437 Druid Hill Avenue. The bar was a place for politicians, movers-and-shakers, and would-be beneficiaries of Smith’s famous generosity.
The bar occupied most of the hotel’s first floor. The elaborate hand-carved bartop had cost a pretty penny. Before the hotel, Smith had run a saloon on Jasper Street from 1900-1912, raising the significant funds he needed to open his next venture.
Much less is known about John Avery Weaver, the man behind the bar. He was born in Baltimore in 1886 to Walter T. Weaver and Sarah (maiden name Falland.) In the early 1900s, he began bartending in Baltimore’s exclusive clubs before leaving for Atlantic City, where he worked behind the bars of several hotels. By the time he returned to Baltimore to work for Smith, he’d had experience serving the fickle and particular tastes of famous and powerful people. He lived as 1212 Druid Hill Avenue and later, on Pitcher Street.
In 1938, the Afro ran a series of columns containing drink recipes from Weaver, “one of the leading bartenders of the East.” He provided formulas for Fish House Punch, Manhattan Cocktail, Whiskey Smash, Sloe Gin Fizz, and other cocktails. I noticed that his recipe for Horse’s Collar, a drink that sometimes contains Brandy, was a non-alcoholic version using bitters and the rind of an entire lemon.
I am sure that one of “America’s Best Mixologists” had some flamboyant way of cutting said lemon peel, which I could not hope to achieve. My lackluster presentation aside, with three healthy dashes of bitters, Weaver’s recipe sits well among the growing number of alcohol alternatives being made behind bars today.
Weaver died in 1961 after a two-year stay in Crownsville State Hospital. His career as a Bartender is enshrined under “occupation” on his death certificate, a memento of a time when that profession garnered prestige to rival the famed chefs and caterers.
Smith’s hotel never quite found its footing after the death of its owner. Smith’s brother Wallace ran the hotel until he was killed in a mugging in 1939. In 1944, the hotel was sold to a white owner. In 1957, the building was razed for a parking lot.
Later, newspapers would reminisce about the hotel and its heyday. A photo showing the life-sized photograph of Joe Gans in the hotel lobby might appear in these articles, next to a picture of the hotel’s exterior festooned with patriotic decor. Another photograph frequently reprinted was of the bar, with Weaver standing confidently amongst hundreds of bottles, in a crisp white suit, one elbow leaned against the bar.
Weaver returned for the hotel’s re-opening in 1940, then known as the “Memory Bar at Smith’s Hotel.” The name would prove all too apt. With both Tom and Wallace Smith gone, the hotel could not regain its momentum and would soon close again.
In 2023, author Toni-Tipton Martin released a book called “Juke Joints, Jazz Clubs, and Juice: A Cocktail Recipe Book: Cocktails from Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks.” As with her previous books, The Jemima Code and Jubilee, Tipton-Martin is working to rectify the erasure of the Black stories in culinary history. Tom Smith and John Weaver attracted patrons across the color barrier in a segregated city. While Smith managed business and wielded political influence, Weaver proudly practiced his craft, making sure that imbibers and teetotalers alike were welcomed into the dazzling world built from the ground up by Tom Smith.
Recipe:
- 1 large block ice
- 1 lemon rind
- 3 dashes Angostura bitters
- ginger ale
“Use large glass. Place 1 large block ice, the rind of a whole lemon, 3 dashes Angostura Bitters. Fill glass with ginger ale and serve with straw.”
Recipe from the Afro-American, September 30th, 1939
