Robin Roberts Presents: Mahalia

Get off my premises with your mess.

Go!

The wash is done. The floor's scrubbed, too.

Please, Aunt Duke, don't give me the stick!

- I ain't giving you the stick. - Thank you, ma'am.

But you ain't getting baptised Sunday. God brought me home early to see...

you ain't ready.

But they made my new dress so pretty.

- You don't deserve that dress. - Please!

I won't let you go in that water no dry devil to come out a wet one.

You the devil!

When you come out that water, you got to be perfect.

God demands! He wants your best!

You see I do the best with my gift, to heal people who sick,

feed anybody hungry, raise children ain't even my own.

Before you get baptised, you got to decide...

what you gonna do with your gift?

I already did. People love my singing, tell me all the time.

You see them out there gathering to listen.

That's my gift.

And you wanna use it whining, moaning, singing the blues?

Ain't people's lives hard enough, full of despair?

Halie, when you ready to come out that water...

you'll have a special understanding.

Your gift will tell you how to live,

carry you anywhere you want to go

long as you work hard enough.

You got to deserve it.

- Now clean that stove. - Yes, ma'am.

Mahalia? Are you almost done? The kitchen needs cleaning.

Yes, ma'am. I'm comin'.

Thank you, God! Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!

That twisting, that gyrating! Get that jazz out of this church!

But, Pastor, this how we sing down South.

I sang this song the day I got baptised.

It's blasphemous. You'll never sing that way in this church.

Blasphemous? This was my conversion.

When I came up out the water, God Himself put those words in my mouth!

This is a church, Miss Jackson. Not a nightclub.

I only sing in God's name.

And David said, "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord."

Don't you read your Bible?

Excuse me, Miss Jackson?

Here you go. $4.

I told the pastor he still needs to pay you for the week.

It's in the Bible.

- Thank you... Miss... - Estelle. Allen.

I wish I could find the sheet music for the way that you sing.

Cos you're from down South, huh?

I came up here to go to school, become a nurse.

Thought I'd make a little extra, church singing,

but that don't look too possible now.

If you'd like to know how we sing in Chicago, go see Professor Kendricks.

He's a wonderful tenor who gives voice lessons.

- How much do he cost? - $4.

You're familiar already with this material?

Yes, sir. Well, good. Let's begin.

From the refrain.

Slower.

Slower.

Now, again... from the diaphragm.

With dignity.

Yes, sir.

But can I please work my way through the song a bit further?

I'm a little nervous.

Why, of course.

All right.

Good, continue.

All right, that's enough.

Young woman, stop that... yelling.

That's no way to develop a voice.

It's a discredit to the Negro race.

White people will never understand you.

If you want to have a career, you'll have to be prepared to work a long time...

to build a dignified voice,

that glorifies our people.

Because that voice will never do.

Miss, what you crying about?

Somebody mistreat you?

Miss, whatever it is, he ain't worth it.

God say, "Don't let no man define you, steal your joy."

Thank you.

I needed that.

I'm hungry.

Yum!

- This your husband? - Yeah, that's Ike. He treats me good.

Well, Miss, I believe, one day, you gonna be famous in this world,

and walk with kings and queens.

My aunt said that to me once.

I told her, the only thing I wanna walk with is a good pair of shoes.

Now go on, get some more cornbread. It's open!

Now get you three another plate before all the food is gone.

Hello! Hi, everybody.

It looks like a big family gathering.

You could say that.

This is how I grew up. No matter how poor we were,

my Aunt Duke would feed anybody that was hungry.

But I trust you got enough to eat.

Well, what's wrong, Mahalia?

I just... I just came by to see how your lesson went.

I ain't studying no high-class stuff and I ain't singing for white people.

I'm singing in the church for God.

And I ain't got no ambition to be some high-class society Negro.

You wrong.

You think I don't know hungry?

I grew up, every morning, every night we was hungry.

I didn't have no Aunt Duke to feed me,

so I stuck my ear to the radio,

learned to speak this way so I could make a better kind of life.

Have a good evening, Miss Jackson.

- Hey, Estelle. You like ham hocks? - No.

But I do like cornbread.

"From the diaphragm." He was like...

OK, Professor.

I can't believe you had me going to that man.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But you know what? You really do...

You really do belong on the stage. Only if the stage belongs to God.

What? You don't believe me? Honey, I been tested plenty.

I had this one bandleader, he wanted me to sing the blues so bad,

he was willing to pay me $100... a week.

How in God's name did you say no to that much money?

Cos the "no" that I told him was in God's name.

So God told you not to sing the blues?

God say His words would give joy, and bring others joy, too.

Now, I could sing the blues if I wanted to, but that ain't the life I wanna live.

I done lived way too much of the blues already, growing up.

You remember the Great Flu? When all them folks was wearin' the masks?

Well, my Aunt Duke, she took them in, all the sick and suffering.

Then my grandfather died, and my mother...

Anybody singing the blues is alone and in a deep pit.

But God's word...

When you sing God's music, I just feel so much hope.

I can't stand to live with any more pain.

- Happy Valentine's! - You scared me!

- It ain't Valentine's Day, you fool. - Oh, yeah?

Every day married to you... it's a Valentine.

- We got company, Ike. - Excuse me.

Isaac Lane Grey Hockenhull. ROTC, Tuskegee Institute. Fisk University.

From Como, Mississippi, by way of Pine Bluff, Arkansas.

- This is Estelle Allen. - Hello.

Oh, yeah! From that church that threw you out. Pleased to meet you.

Estelle's gonna be my new piano player.

I... I am?

I like Estelle! Don't know how she got you to finally take singing lessons.

I tell Mahalia all the time, she should be an opera star.

Well, how do you and God feel about that?

Oh, hell, no.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen!

- Hallelujah! - Praise him!

- Estelle? I've been waitin' to tell you. - You're pregnant?

No. But I do pray for a big family one day.

But we need money first.

So, Ike's mother, she's finally selling us her cosmetic formula.

We going into business for ourselves!

- Halie, that's wonderful. - I got all her secrets and everything.

I think I might start cooking up some beauty products tonight.

- I want to be your first customer. - Well, magic skin cream costs a dollar.

There you go.

Ike's so excited to start this business,

he quit his part-time job at the post office.

He did? That could turn full-time. That's good, steady pay.

Oh, Mahalia. I want you to meet a student of mine, Mildred Falls.

- I think she could be good for you. - She's right.

I'm almost in need of a full-time piano player.

Somebody that can come on time and keep up.

- Can you keep up? - No. I'm--

Mildred's been to hear you sing many times.

She's just never introduced herself.

Well, can you get my bounce?

- Get my rhythm right? - I could learn.

Well, come back to me when you're confident you can bounce.

I'm always in need of a piano player cos none of the good ones are too reliable.

That's because some of us can't afford to lose our regular jobs

travellin' over God's green Earth with you.

Well, God will provide to those who commit to His demands.

Now, I got to get home, start cooking up my new wealth.

Remember, Tuesday, we got a funeral to play.

Come early.

That woman...

she's hardly got a stitch to her name...

but she's a queen.

Mahalia! Where you been, Ike?

Everything we've been waiting for, good pay for singing.

No nightclubs. No blues.

"Federal... Theater... Project presents..."

The Hot Mikado. All-Negro cast, a national tour, babe.

I thought we were starting a cosmetic business. This is bigger!

How come you start one thing and you quick jump to another?

Selling cosmetics won't get us much further than you hollering in churches.

"Hollering"?

You... You could reach the heights.

We play this right, our lives could be as big and beautiful as your voice.

I ain't no horse racing a track, OK?

Look, why can't we live a life as big as your college degree?

Maybe in 100 years, college will do a Negro good.

Until then, the post office is high as I'm able to climb.