In the 1970s, an era when funk and soul music took the nation by storm and became a cultural phenomenon, there was a popular television show called “Soul Train.” It allowed Black youth as young as 15 years old to express themselves in dance. Black music would become mainstream. 

“Stories of the Soul” is a documentary that captures the true essence of “Soul Train” from the 70s through the 80s. At two recent viewings on Juneteenth and on July 10 in South Los Angeles at Sister Dreamer Sculpture Park, filmmakers opened up about their experiences putting the film together and being a part of it.

Instead of just allowing the legacy of Soul Train to fade away, Andrea Walker-Williamson created a joyful explosion of culture at the corner of 76th and Western Avenue. At the sculpture park, the ancient hieroglyphic history carved into the walls meets the fashion of the 1970s swagger of bell-bottoms and silk button-downs, wrapping thousands of years of Black permanence and nostalgia into a single, continuous stride. 

Back row from left to right: Elan Carter-Price, Mojgan Pourzanjani, Derek Fleming, Larry Jeffries aka BobCat, Jahmal Holland, Carole Creekmore, Marco DeSantiago; Front row left to right: Lyn Johnson, Thelma Davis, Delinda Jones, Andrea Walker

On Juneteenth, a historic Guinness World Record-breaking 902-person “Soul Train” line was formed, bringing back the title to the city that “Soul Train” gained prominence in (Los Angeles), although the show first began in Chicago. 

Andrea Walker-Williamson, Producer and founder of Create Noise Productions, remembers a Juneteenth Day at Lauren Halsey’s Sister Dreamer as a family reunion of long-lost relatives. It started with a pre-check-in, having individuals register and get their number.

“They were walking around, socializing, reminiscing about the good ole days, different long-gone venues like Moody’s, The Bitten Apple, Total Experience, Mavericks Flat, Hollywood Skating Rink. We hated to end the socializing; however, it was actually time to get in, you know, their place on the line.”

She continued, “We had OG soul train dancers who would walk the line and organize it to keep it together. It was Black beauty and cohesion; you could feel the magnetism, as if all our ancestors were having a discussion looking down on us saying, ‘he will dance Bakongo, that guy will dance Mandika, she will dance Yoruba.’ I truly believe at the end of the day, they realized it was a blend of everything and the drums taken away 400 years ago had been given back.”

Walker-Williamson then explains Soul Train’s connections to ancestral roots, explaining the importance of the show’s imprint on Black American history and culture. 

“When we were captured in Africa and brought to this continent roughly 400 years ago, we had extensive knowledge of astronomy, agrarian skills, herbal healing, spirituality, and art. We used dance and music to worship and connect with our ancestors; once they took away our drums in the Americas, we were left with rhythmic movements to retain our culture and connect spiritually to Africans on earth and in the afterlife,” says Walker-Williamson. 

PeQue Brown, artist and creative producer, recalled a conversation he had with a couple of former “Soul Train” dancers who shared the same information about the cakewalk dance and its resurgence every Saturday on “Soul Train,” since its debut on the 5th episode in 1971. Brown also adds that the best dancer on the plantation would win a cake. He believes the pre-cakewalk dance, the Juba dance, was “a way to communicate and identify your tribe, because we did not have a spoken common language and the Juba would allow us to inform other slaves who we were.”

                      1967 Mirrored Images, Opposite Sides of the Country

According to University of Las Vegas Gender and Ethnic Studies Professor, Javon Johnson, way before the inception of the “Soul Train” line, Soul music reached an explosive creative peak in 1967 when Black identity was seemingly more embraced, and radio stations such as  KGFJ (Los Angeles) and WVON (Chicago) were promoting concerts at local African American high schools.  

The 1970’s South Central Los Angeles-based show “Soul Search” and Don Cornelius, a Radio news broadcaster and backup disc jockey at WVON created a similar venue known as “Soul Train.” Cornelius lived across the country in Chicago, Ill., and saw that LAUSD did not want to host anymore concerts becuase it attracted gang activity, causing “Soul Search” to be held at off-campus locations.   Both venues traveled across the city to different African American high schools, promoting talent shows and bringing live music to inner-city areas. Johnson believes both grassroots venues had aspirations of being an African American television show. Both “Soul Search” and “Soul Train” essentially mimicked the same style.

Johnson believes Cornelius relocated the show to Southern California to launch “Soul Train” into national syndication; the very first national syndicated episode was produced in Los Angeles on October 2nd 1971, the show was embraced by the young Black community, and the rest is history.  

The End of Soul Search, Rise of Street Gangs and Raw Talent

According to Inner City Historian Anthony Brooks –who worked for “Soul Search” as part of the stage crew–he remembers meeting the first African American television anchor man, Ken Jones, who was a major player in the “Soul Search” talent shows. Brooks said that “Soul Search” was not prepared for the evolution of street gangs as they grew in popularity during that time period. 

Also, Brooks said the first “Soul Search” was hosted at Jordan High School in the city of Watts, and Bill Cosby was a guest Emcee. He recalls one day in which the program was interrupted by scared students busting through the door and fleeing the parking lot where a violent incident had just taken place. During the spring of 1972 at Manual Arts High, ignited by rival gang members, lighter fluid was thrown on a Carver Jr. High School (CJHS) 9th grader. The situation brought unwanted attention to the Los Angeles Unified School District, according to Brooks. 

The victim was Stanley, aka “Lil Stanley Miller.” Miller was invited to “Soul Search” by members of a rival gang. Many believed the invitation was solicited by a former individual who was Crip-affiliated at CJHS and an associate who later joined the Brims, a subgroup of the Bloods street gang. 

Miller was misled into believing that some Brim gang members wanted to convert to Crips. 

Upon showing up, Miller was chased out of the auditorium by members of the Brims. Attempting to escape, his clothing became entangled in the chain-link fence he was attempting to climb, and while entangled, his pursuers threw lighter fluid on him and ignited it; Miller survived. 

By 1973, that incident involving Eastside Crips and the Brims completely altered how KGFJ and city officials viewed the safety of community-based talent shows. The venue was moved from high school campuses, where territorial rivalries existed, and relocated to heavily policed, neutral-ground commercial venues like the Shrine Auditorium and the Los Angeles Sports Arena. 

The Crip vs. Blood gang war intensified, and the KGFJ radio station was forced to transition to clubs, and the Soul Search naturally ended. 

According to Brooks, Corneilus utilized individuals affiliated with the “Soul Search” network, like the Mafundi Institute and Black radio stations, to assist him in finding Black youth for the initial show at Metromedia Square; after that, he had an abundance of Black youth as young as 15 wanting to be a part of “Soul Train.” He filmed it at a secured location and controlled who would be allowed entrance and who would not. 

Dr. Johnson believes that, before “Soul Train’s” success, there were three African American non-syndicated dance shows: The Mitch Thomas Show (1955-1958), Teenage Frolics (1958-1983), Teenarama Dance Party (1963-1970).  

 Culture Thief 

The film director of “Stories for the Soul,” Jahmal Holland, was asked if “Soul Train” was an answer to the white audience’s dance show “American Bandstand.”  Holland believes it was not an answer; it was a threat, especially when “Soul Train” became more popular with soul and rhythm and blues artists, teenage African Americans, and white people. 

There were reports that kids who became fans of “Soul Train” would watch the dance show when their parents left the house. Holland highlights how Los Angeles history and Black culture were inextricably linked at that time. The dance form seen on the show grew out of local neighborhoods and clubs like the Blueberry Hill and Maverick’s Flat in South LA, during a massive boom of Black artistic expression. Holland states the time period the film will cover is the early 70s inception in Los Angeles until about the mid ’80s.

Holland explains that Dick Clark felt the heat and decided to create a show to directly compete with “Soul Train.” The show was called “Soul Unlimited.” It was scheduled to air in 1973; however, the music industry and ABC pushed back.

​According to Holland, there were attempts by “Soul Unlimited” to recruit the Soul Train dancers, who purchased, or often made their own outfits and were not paid for dancing. Yet, most of the dancers were loyal and appreciated Don Corneilous for creating a platform for African American teenagers to express themselves and did not leave.

Holland said only a few did decide to leave.

“A few dancers did cross over for the paychecks; everyone isn’t an artist. But with loyalists like Reggie Thornton, who was one of the original “Soul Train” dancers from Chicago. He danced on the show for two decades, from 1971 to 1991, and there was Marco de Santiago, a dancer from 1976 to 1992.

He continued, “It was Dick Clark who saw the potential of African American dance and its crossover power. Clark convinced Chubby Checker to perform the twist on “American Bandstand.” The show gained wide popularity and the Dick Clark brand became international.”

He further added, “Clark realized the potential of the power of “Soul Train” based on how the twist was being danced in France, Germany, Italy, and Japan. Besides culture thieves, we had individuals that tried to ban Black dances like Henry Ford. He campaigned, promoted, and funded folk dancing in schools like the Hokey Pokey and Square Dancing; ask any Baby Boomer.” 

Comfort, Protection, Expression and the Soul Train Line

Carolyn “Lyn” Johnson, a producer who was featured in the film, is a former “Soul Train” dancer and married Chuck Johnson 8 years after she met him on the show. The film features Chuck and Carolyn and his role as the talent coordinator for Soul Train and Solar Records.

After Our Weekly surveyed brief interviews, the findings showed that most African American viewers in their mid to late sixties remember Lyn as the first non-Black to dance on Soul Train. She was known as the “cool Asian” because of her Filipina heritage and her being on a Black show.

According to Holland, “Chuck was Don Cornelius’ right-hand man; he was a visual artist, he molded and shaped the look of Soul Train, he was the gatekeeper, he decided who got to go down the Soul Train line. There was a certain curation that Chuck did for that show that made it what we know it for.”

He continued, “There’s a segment in the film about the Soul Train line where different dancers, including Carolyn, describe the process of being chosen to be able to go down that line.”

Johnson said production recruiters visited George Washington Preparatory High School, Dorsey High School, and Crenshaw High School, and the Mafundi Institute in Watts to recruit teenage dancers. 

“We recorded four shows shot on Saturday (dancing) and Sunday (Soul Train Line). We had to be prepared; if you saw a dancer wearing the same outfit on back-to-back shows, you knew they were not prepared. We were fed Kentucky Fried Chicken, Springfield Soda, yum yum yum!” 

Lyn recalled a few dance members would wear masks or dress up as celebrities and characters to add excitement to the “Soul Train” line. For example,  Jeffery Daniel dressed up as  Michael Jackson, Rick Carson and Manuel Reed dressed as the “Blues Brothers,” Odis Medley dressed up as ET, Wendel Starks Washington dressed as  Captain Crunch. 

“Oh, my God! Well, it was fun. It was definitely fun being able to just dance with all those people, and then afterwards we would go to the clubs, and people would watch us, and that was it. It was fun going to and dancing at venues like Cattle Baron in Beverly Hills, Moody’s in Santa Monica, and Danceateria on Highland Avenue,” said Lyn. 

She continued, “Some members would go to Fox Hills Mall with the same outfits on, or Parkside Manor, a famous legendary Black-owned banquet hall and nightclub located right in South Los Angeles, on what used to be Santa Barbara Ave but it’s now Martin Luther King Ave.”

Johnson also said that once the dancers arrived at Parkside Manor, they would stand and pose. They did this in order to be seen in the same outfit they wore on Soul Train that same day. “We were the life of the party,” she said.

Soul Train is a staple in Black American culture and was known as the “ hippest trip in America” during its prime, as Don Cornelius always closed the show saying he wished viewers “love, peace and soul.”

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