King Zulu in Biloxi: Newspapers show Coast’s first Black krewes, Mardi Gras parades

Two young boys stare at the newspaper rack on the sidewalk. Both wear masks.

“Mardi Gras Parades Canceled,” declares the headline displayed in the rack.

Disappointed, the youngest of the boys turns to the other and says, “But now we won’t be able to catch anything!”

“I think that’s the point,” the bigger boy sagely replies.

The COVID-19 pandemic has done the nearly unthinkable — canceled the extensive season of Carnival parades across the Gulf South, and along with that canceled the tossing of tons of bead necklaces and other parade “throws.”

That 2021 deletion of parades, of course, includes New Orleans and Mobile, both of whom claim to be originators of the American version of Mardi Gras. Cancellations also include the 23 parades on the Mississippi Coast and hundreds of others stretched from Texas to Florida and inland.

The image of the two disappointed boys is not of my imagination. For that laugh we must thank Walt Handlesman of the Louisiana-based The Advocate. He is the Pulitzer-winning cartoonist for the newspaper that became a blended version of The New Orleans Advocate and the 184-year-old The Times-Picayune.

Thankfully, microfilms of the old Picayunes survive. From them we learn how the American Carnival changed from the raunchy, dangerous street masquerading of the early 1800s to organized parades that began with the Mistick Krewe of Comus in 1856, now the oldest krewe in New Orleans.

From the microfilm of our Coast papers, we also learn of similar startling changes, beginning in the early years when most who lived here headed by train to partake of Mardi Gras in Mobile and New Orleans.

Next, we learn that Coast people began staying home, forming Mardi Gras organizations of their own, staging masque balls and occasionally rolling out parades in the late 1800s.

Reported this newspaper on Feb. 15, 1891:

“In the afternoon the citizens — such of them as had not emigrated to New Orleans or Mobile for the occasion — were startled by the appearance on the streets of a gorgeous procession of seven floats, which wound its tortuous way around and through the city.”

First Black krewes on the Coast

From these early newspapers preserved on microfilm, we also learn of rarely remembered early Black krewes, enriching our understanding of this holiday:

1921: “Mardi Gras was livened somewhat yesterday morning by a visit of a number of colored persons masked as members of the tribe of Biloxi Indians, who paraded Howard Avenue attracting considerable attention.”

1934: “King Zulu and his tribe of Hula warriors and Indians and witch doctor ruled the Negro carnival parade in Biloxi... the court band followed by Zulu seated on his throne dressed in black and wearing a crown of moss.”

1935: “King Foogaboo (‘a Negro organization’) and his Mystic Krewe of Foogaboos are all set for their annual Mardi Gras festivities at Pass Christian.”

These historic tidbits come from Sun Herald microfilm, which begins in the 1880s as The Biloxi Herald.

Later Heralds document King Zulu being in Biloxi from 1934 to 1948, and much later it covers creation of today’s Coastwide, multi-cultural The Second Liners Mardi Gras Club, a krewe started in 1993 in a predominately Black East Biloxi neighborhood.

MS Coast Mardi Gras history told by newspapers

With so many Coast documents and family letters lost in hurricanes, newspaper microfilm is key to locating the forgotten stories of Mardi Gras’ beginnings. We are lucky because several early newspapers from our coastal counties are preserved on microfilm. For example:

Feb. 14, 1879, Pascagoula Democrat Star: “Scranton is not going to be behind in the celebration of Mardi Gras. We learn the young men around town are making preparations to have a ball the night before Mardi Gras and will parade on the streets on Mardi Gras night.”

Feb. 29, 1896: The Echo of Bay St. Louis: “Pictures of the Bay St. Louis Mardi Gras parade at [illegible] news stand.”

Because no one is alive who experienced Carnival’s early Coast evolution, such tidbits are priceless for understanding not only Mardi Gras but how this region developed, changed and survived disasters.

We can thank modern technology, computers and the Internet for making that information more accessible for today’s researchers. That’s because some old microfilm is now “digitized.” In layman’s terms that means researchers can do keyword searches instead of reeling through page after page, reel after reel of bleary microfilm or microfiche.

An example of a keyword search would be to type in “Mardi Gras” and “parade.” In the Picayune’s digitized microfilm for 1900 to 1905, such a search yields 253 hits from articles and advertisements. That seems like a lot until you realize it’s better than reading through five years worth of 1,825 editions.

In that same Picayune microfilm search, we can study the entire page on which a Mardi Gras parade story appears, including other news events of the day, headlines, story placement and advertisements.

This historical context, however, is being lost in modern newspapers that forego microfilming to directly digitized their news. Individual PDF articles, not designed completed pages, are being preserved by most 21st century newspapers.

Note: If you have the inclination, you can still search old newspapers on microfilm machines at libraries that understand the importance of public access. In this age of computer technology, you can also get paid memberships to online archives — among them geneaologybank.com, newspaperarchive.com and newspapers.com — to access their collections.

History is always being updated

Thoughts on the importance of archives are fresh in my mind because I recently taught a Zoom seminar on Mardi Gras history. The Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at the University of Southern Mississippi Gulf Coast had invited me.

I agreed, thinking, “Easy peasy. Just hunt up all those old columns you wrote on Mardi Gras.”

Wrong! As I re-read more than 35 years worth of articles and columns on Carnival history, I realized my knowledge needed refurbishing.

I’d forgotten my own mantra: Local history is continually being updated as we gain new research tools. Remembering when we mistakenly believed 1908 saw the first Coast parade, I once again buried myself in microfilm, this time able to keyword search.

Plenty of “new” old stuff popped up. For example, the first “Throw me something, Mister!” reported on Coast streets was in 1959. That was likely a lack of local reporting, however, because I found it first mentioned in New Orleans papers in the 1920s. Updating Mardi Gras history requires doggedness and a curious mind.

Is 2021 Mardi Gras canceled?

Now to that all important question posed by Walt Handlesman’s cartoon: Is Mardi Gras really canceled in 2021?

The parades are, but when I called the Coastal Mississippi Mardi Gras Museum in Biloxi, Executive Director Anna Harris provided a positive spin.

“We’re not canceling Mardi Gras,” she stated emphatically. “We’re just not celebrating it the same way. There are no public events but the public has found alternative ways to celebrate at home. We like to think of it as the Yardi Party.”

If you haven’t noticed, decorated yards and porches are the big thing in 2021. Think of them as parade float substitutes.

Maybe 100 years from now some researcher will find a Yardi Party news item and be amazed at pandemic resourcefulness. But in what form he will find today’s news, I can’t begin to imagine.

Kat Bergeron, a veteran feature writer specializing in Gulf Coast history and sense of place, is retired from the Sun Herald. She writes the Mississippi Coast Chronicles column as a freelance correspondent. Reach her at BergeronKat@gmail.com or at Southern Possum Tales, P.O. Box 33, Barboursville, VA 22923.

This story was originally published February 7, 2021 at 8:00 AM.