Now… using racism to advertise exotic products, by Dominique Dubé

July 30, 2021
ARCH 251
Professor Annmarie Adams

Advertisements often use subliminal messages for sales. The 1956 advertisement for Mengel Doors posted in the shelter magazine House and Home goes further by blatantly capitalizing on racism for sales. The company, located in Louisville, Kentucky, promotes their doors and matching plywood panels made from Gold Coast Cherry wood. Emphasis is put on this particular type of wood, the words ‘Gold Coast Cherry’ appear in large and a considerable proportion of the poster is occupied by an illustration of the wood’s detail. But the fundamental appeal of this professed beautiful hardwood as advertised to the consumer is that it comes from Africa. More precisely, it comes from the American company’s “own exclusive timbering concessions”, which can be read on the small map of Africa below the door detail. A white circle generally indicating the location of this Gold Coast is even drawn on the map.

Advertisement for Mengel Doors, House and Home, November 1956, 25. Extracted from: Dianne Harris, Little White Houses: How the Postwar Home Constructed Race in America (Minnesota Scholarship Online, 2015), 95.1

Before discussing the more disturbing elements of the poster there is already much to be unpacked. The text and the map alone express a strong colonial attitude. On two occasions, the ad states that the wood is imported from the company’s exclusive African concessions. Now, it is important to note that the trade of exotic goods between countries and across oceans was quite common when this ad was published during the postwar period. Even in cases of mercantile trading between colonies and their mother state, it wasn’t always at the blatant disadvantage of the colonies. Take, for example, the shipping of Canadian timber to Great Britain in the early nineteenth century. This timber trade fueled economic growth and the development of the country. However, Africa’s trade history is infamously unilateral. White colonial countries divided the continent to extract their share of the land’s resources for the profit of no one else but themselves. By the 1950s, this was a centuries-old practice and likely common knowledge at the time. So, to announce multiple times that the company imports its resources from its exclusive African concessions sends a powerful message, especially with the use of the word “exclusive”. It suggests that the American company, just like a white colonial country, has a monopoly over the precious resource that is the Gold Coast Cherry wood. The white circle on the black map of Africa reinforces this idea. It symbolizes the delimitation of the company’s “colony” on the African continent. Furthermore, the “still priced lower than many other hardwoods!” implies the material harvesting practice is an advantageous arrangement for the company. It is likely that the rightful landowners that should benefit from this natural resource, the African people of the region, probably receive not much in return. Additionally, although it might be by pure accident, I find the choice of colors for the design of the map quite telling. Drawing a white circle on a fully black African continent portrays a clear separation between the land controlled by the white colonials and the rest of the land inhabited by the Black indigenes. It can be also argued that the grey area created by the transparency of the white circle over the black background serves to show the “whitening” of the African region under external control. In brief, these elements craft an omnipresent theme of imperialism in this ad, depicting Africa as a free pantry of valuable goods for the exclusive use of white buyers and homeowners across the ocean.

Another theme closely associated with the imperialist mentality is predominant in the ad. Notice how a different font and color are used to write down “Gold Coast Cherry”. I argue that by using a special font and color to accentuate these words, the reader’s attention is drawn to them. The characters chosen appear very exotic, even a little tribal or uncivilized when you compare them to the other font. They appear as if they were hand-carved pieces of wood glued to a poster board in front of the fictitious “Gold Coast Cherry” plantation. This idea is supported by the shadow effect given to the characters, making them appear in three dimensions. This is further accentuated by the contrast with the black, smooth, sharp characters used to name the company and to announce the advertised products. In brief, the characters used to describe the American company make them appear conventional and standard, while the ones used to describe the African region where this exotic hardwood comes from make it seems like it is an uncivilized place.

The illustration of the African man (or woman, it is impossible to tell) culminates this theme of capitalizing on the implication of African savagery. This depiction is impossible to miss, despite minimizing their portrayal to half of the height of the other figure. Already a clear judgement is articulated on their social hierarchy: they are worth half of the other human. That being said, what makes his representation so striking? To start, we must examine the color used to picture their skin: a pitch black. A black as deep as the black used to color the map of Africa, as if the whole continent was filled with similar inhabitants. This black appears in even higher contrast against the white-colored elements that complete their portrayal. Again, the distinction between black and white couldn’t be clearer here. Moreover, one of these white elements encompasses the whole inventory of their outfit: a simple loincloth. If this tribal reference wasn’t loud enough, the African person is seen holding in one hand what seems to be a shield. The shield is decorated like an African face mask, an object you often see tourists bring back home from their trip to the continent. Their other hand is not visible, but keeping up with the present theme, I wouldn’t be surprised to see them holding a lance. The illustration of this character’s facial traits heightens the absurdity of this portrayal. Indeed, they feature largely disproportionate eyes and mouth. Their thick lips are a commonly stereotypical portrayal of a Black person. Their hair seems wild and untamed as if haircuts do not exist where they’re from. The final touch is the addition of the hoop earring, probably the last item on the list to check to portray an exemplar member of a primitive society. These techniques cumulatively depict a stereotypical African in the most reductive manner, illustrating how the American company and people perceive Africans. Most shocking is the profound lack of details and the overwhelming simplicity of this character’s representation. Indeed, the drawing is almost cartoonish, conveying they lack worth of even the time required for a more elaborate drawing. Put simply, this Black African is depicted as a whole other being requiring a completely different form of representation.

This is especially relevant when compared to the other figure on the ad: the woman dressed in exotic attire. Everything is in contrast here. First of all, she appears to be a white woman. Indeed, when you compare the tone of her skin next to the African man, she looks very pale. It could also be argued that the logo of Mengel Doors represents a white man and that his skin tone is the same as the woman’s one. Furthermore, she is depicted twice as tall as the other figure and in a lot more detail. Just compare the refinement of her facial traits with the ones described in the last paragraph. She is not illustrated in a cartoonish manner, or at least not with reductive intent. However, something is particularly puzzling in her case: she is not represented as a classic stereotypical white woman. Her attire clearly references generalized African culture (at least to the suggested one). She wears an animal print dress t and multiple bracelets on her wrist, ankle, and hair. A bone, another typical element of stereotypical African representation, adorns her hair. Finally, just like the African character, she wears a hoop earring, although hers seem more refined. The question remains, why would the creators of this ad outfit this white woman in appropriated African attire? Perhaps they sought to establish a connection between the white buyer in America and the African grown material. But I think it serves primarily to promote the exotic quality and appeal of the products. Considering the portrayal of the woman is hypersexualised, this assumption is in keeping with the theme. Her strapless minidress cuts off at her thigh, exposing as much of her legs as possible. Her cleavage is intentionally drawn and she poses delicately touching the plywood panels advertised. So, when the ad promotes their “satin-smooth panels with all the beauty of this exciting wood”, you understand that the word “exciting” is also used to describe something or someone else. Consequently, a parallel is established between the woman and the advertised products. It sends the message to the white male homeowners that if they purchase these products, an exotic and sexually attractive woman will magically appear with their shipment. And more importantly, this woman will be white. A dream situation.

Arguably everything in this 1956 ad for Mengel Doors upholds a racist theme: the connotation in the product description, the Gold Coast on the map of Africa, the different fonts used in the title, and the two very polemical figures. The colonial stance climaxes in the cartoonish depiction of the African inhabitant as a tribal member. The contrast to the depiction of the white woman is particularly trenchant and frankly communicates the perception of Africans in white culture: as different beings belonging to a whole other category of living things. All of this is packaged into the advertisement of an exotic material for use in the typical American house. This exposes the past, and probably continued involvement of architecture in the racist mercantile system of global trading.


Dominique Dubé is an undergraduate student at the Peter Guo-hua Fu School of Architecture, McGill University. This essay was written for ARCH 251.


Advertisement for Mengel Doors, House and Home, November 1956, 25. Extracted from: Dianne Harris, Little White Houses: How the Postwar Home Constructed Race in America (Minnesota Scholarship Online, 2015), 95.

Disney’s “It’s a Small World” ride: An Incursion into the Racial Implications of the African Display, by Audrey Boutot

July 23, 2021
ARCH 251
Professor Annmarie Adams

The famously idealized Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida is an attraction park large enough to be considered a city. Founded on tourism, the park promises a world of magic and endless possibilities. It is branded as a place of escape, capable of perpetually reaching new heights of imagination to fuel the maintenance of the fabricated dream world it sells. Disney World is home to four theme parks: Magic Kingdom, Animal Kingdom, Epcot Center, and Hollywood Studios. Within Magic Kingdom, visitors can discover a place called Fantasyland, home of the famous ride called “It’s a Small World”. It opened in 1966 and became one of the park’s most beloved attraction.1 The visitors are invited to sing a classic hymn advocating world peace, while leisurely enjoying a small boat cruise. This gentle ten-minute journey allows for the viewer to observe different cultures from across continents in the form of displays. The ride is filled with hundreds of dolls representing children from all over the globe. An inevitable question arises: how can a single fabricated display of a few meters wide be able to summarize a country’s entire culture? Disney World answered that question by relying on the portrayal of each nation’s biggest stereotypes. The result is a very problematic depiction of other countries. The racist showcasing of the African continent falls victim to the juxtaposition of those controversial clichés.

The old Walt Disney World postcard, advertising Magic Kingdom, shows the display that is supposed to be representing the African continent (see Figure 1 & 2).2

Figure 1: Front side of a Walt Disney World postcard picturing Africa in the “It’s a Small World” ride. Postcard. From Cardcow. Accessed March 25, 2021.

Figure 2: Back side of a Walt Disney World postcard picturing Africa in the “It’s a Small World” ride. Postcard. From Cardcow. Accessed March 25, 2021.

The planners sought to demonstrate that global unity and harmony can be achieved when dissolving boundaries between countries. From the photograph, the ride’s central water pathway is considerably wide and clear from obstruction. The space feels open and safe with its high ceiling and clearly defined route. The water acts as a monolithic pathway that guides visitors seamlessly throughout the entire ride. This aimed to symbolize the dissolution of boundaries, the boat smoothly sailing from one room to the next. As opposed to conveying unity, I argue that situating the ride on water results in the complete removal of context, alienating the display from its surroundings. The centrality of water also promotes the comparison between the stereotypical cultures portrayed. It provides a foundation on which false cultural interpretations can thrive. The postcard shows the African continent presentation next to the main water pathway, devoid of a meaningful surrounding. It could be seen as a small, secluded island floating on water with no connection to the exhibit as a whole. For an exhibit aimed to showcase different parts of the world, employing water as the connecting element does not unify cultures, it untethers them.

The isolating nature of the ride is further evidenced by the arched passage leading from the African display in the postcard. This arched portal defines the end of the African display, concluding the space while providing a preview of what will come next. It creates a small tunnel that has a powerful impact. The diminutive passage effectively tricks the brain into thinking the new space is more spacious than in reality. It expertly crafts feelings of amazement and wonder upon exiting the partition tunnel. This arched passageway firmly separates the different displays from one another. The transition from one room to the next is abrupt. Layered in irony, the ride advocates unity and peace between countries, while displaying them each individually within separated perimeters. This theme of unity is obscured by this minimization of access and interaction between displays.
Furthermore, the animals in the postcard appear unrealistically portrayed. They come together with a playful mix of colours. The pink elephant, the blue hippopotamus, and the red lion stand out prominently. There is however one exception. One animal is not drawn up in the same bright coloured fashion as the others. The monkeys are found dangling from high up in the strands of greenery and are painted brown. Above the arched passage, we can see the pink elephant’s head with two children perched on its tusks and one child on its trunk. This juxtaposition of forms displaying the monkeys in front of the children could be an innocent and random occurrence. However, considering Disney’s evidence of racism in their classic films, it leads me to believe that the choice was intentional. It reads as an inherently racist strategic positioning to imply a parallel between the two. Both the children and the monkeys are shown at a similar height and scale. The three dolls are suspended from high up amongst the same greenery as the monkeys, and they dangle down in a similar way. Additionally, the exclusion of playful colouring solely from the monkeys suggests intentional significance.

Positioning the children on the elephant’s head shows how they seem to be very close and comfortable with the animals in the wild. Children can also be found surrounding the red lion, where one of them is even standing upon its head. This proximity extends the untamed and wild nature of the animals towards the children. That they have so much in common with wild animals, they can climb on top of an elephant’s or a lion’s head for fun. The children are also represented by a single skin colour tone. In a place where the displays are supposed to showcase culture, the events portrayed in the African exhibit do not accurately represent the vast array of cultures in Africa. With an entire continent of culture available to portray in such an exhibit, the designers chose to show children in the wild keeping company with animals as its main presentation.

As seen on the postcard, the design seems to be imitating a jungle. It lacks clear organization since the greenery is a large component of the display. The disorganization of the space suggests a lack of civilization, that humans in Africa live in a jungle landscape amidst wild animals. This portrayal perpetuates the stereotype that there is no organized or advanced society on the continent. The planners centered the whole display solely around the jungle instead of displaying a collage of cultural elements similar to the European displays. The ornamentation, colour, and detail of the African display are much less spectacular compared to many of the displays about other continents. The décor is much more somber in terms of lighting but also in terms of colouring. Other displays have copious amounts of superimposed flamboyant colors that contribute to the grandiosity of the ride. As seen in the postcard, the main colours used for the African display were varying tones of green and blue. It lacks imagination, as seen by its central focus on the jungle, minimal detailing, and absence of cultural elements. This inconsistency when comparing the African portrayal with the other displays serves to downplay its importance, as it does not leave the same lasting effect on visitors’ memories.

The “It’s a Small World” display on the postcard showcases an extreme over-generalization of the African continent. There is no distinction between the many African countries. The extent of what we see serves to present a single view to encompass an entire continent. This ignorant portrayal has a racist undercurrent: while the display is already void of culture, it also minimizes the multitudes of African countries by generalizing them all as one homogenous continent. Perhaps the inclusion of dolls resembling children in the design was an effort to lighten its racist depictions.

The ride has a subtle educational purpose that might not have been intentional from its initial planning but is especially problematic in today’s society. On the postcard, we can see a little girl on the tourist boat looking at the African continent display. This begs the question, what are children supposed to learn from these portrayals of foreign countries? Will the display influence how this little girl views the African continent after the ride is over? I imagine it will influence her perspective, setting a concrete image in her mind about the false, stereotypical portrayal of Africa. This rationale is true for any child that visits the ride. Children are the most easily influenceable and impressionable visitors of the attraction, they most likely do not question the validity of what they see on display. The African showcasing could be the only reference point a child might have in their mind about Africa. If that little girl were to acquire the postcard as a souvenir after the ride, the impact of the display would then surely have a much longer-lasting effect. The postcard would then serve as a constant reminder about how the African section looked. A tangible image is a stronger reminder than a memory. If someone who’s never been on the boat journey were to see the postcard, that person’s perception of Africa could also be influenced. Therefore, hyper-generalisation is one of the reasons why the display is problematic, promoting stereotypes to both children and adults. The ride has the power to shape a child’s perception of the world in a matter of minutes. The racial implications are extreme since the representation of Africa serves as a subtle educational tool that propagates broader racist content.

The original intention behind the ride might have been innocent; to simply invite people around the world and to advocate a message of unity. The problem lies in the disingenuous cultural and societal portrayal of foreign countries. As seen with the postcard, the African display in the ride is polluted with racist elements. It offers a depiction of racialized falsehood that could influence the way visitors, especially children, view Africa. Most intriguing and disturbing is how this ride has survived the test of time. Despite the increasingly globalized worldview, the attraction is still filled with offensive stereotypes, offering extremely outdated interpretations of foreign societies dating back to its year of creation. Accepting the African display’s racial implications serves to affirm the characterization of distinctive cultures in such a way.


Audrey Boutot is an undergraduate student at the Peter Guo-hua Fu School of Architecture, McGill University. This essay was written for ARCH 251.


Laudan Nooshin, “Circumnavigation with a Difference? Music, Representation and the Disney Experience: ‘It’s a Small, Small World'” Ethnomusicology Forum 13, no. 2 (2004): 236-51,

2 “It’s a Small World- Fantasyland Orlando, FL Disney Postcard”, Cardcow, accessed March 25, 2021,

City Planning or Dismantling of Black Communities: Gentrification in Southwest, Washington D.C., by Alara Dileklen

June 18, 2021
ARCH 251
Professor Annmarie Adams

Architecture, especially regarding race and gender, is not limited to the creation of physical space but includes the destruction of these spaces as well. When discussing race and architecture, it is particularly important to emphasize the architectural decisions made in the United States around the time of the Civil Rights Movement in which the racial inequalities and discrimination against Black citizens were protested, and people demanded change from social and political platforms. However, while the Civil Rights Movement under the leadership of Martin Luther King, Jr. made considerable changes regarding the perception towards Black communities and their rights, some architectural decisions made during these times by the white-male dominated the administration of the United States continued to work against the great efforts of civil rights advocates and, whether intentionally or unintentionally, demolished Black communities through the so-called city planning activities.  This resulted in Black communities moving out from their homes and neighbourhoods and integrated into the new ones created and designed according to the culture and needs of white people and losing not only their physical homes but also the sense of belonging and culture.

Figure 1: Garnet W. Jex, “The Washington Monument towers over rubble from destroyed buildings at 11th Street and Virginia Avenue S.W. in 1959.” Demolition of Buildings on the Southwest Corner of 11th Street and Virginia Avenue SW. Photograph. From DC History Center, Washington D.C., February 1959.

While Samir Meghelli’s exhibition of “A Right to the City1 includes many photographs from various districts and regions in the US that underwent heavy architectural renovations and demolishment, he specifically emphasizes, through the photograph above, how the Southwest in Washington D.C. became ground zero for the US administration’s urban renewal activities and the development of segregation and desegregation narrative through architecture and urban planning. As this photograph could be considered a keystone and an epitome of the coming architectural changes in the US,  I believe that James Baldwin’s description of urban renewal as “Negro removal”2 is quite correct.

Photographed in 1959, the scene from 11th Street Virginia Avenue in Southwest Washington D.C. shows destroyed buildings in a neighbourhood of the district that was once mostly inhabited by the Black communities. After the decision taken by President Eisenhower in the name of gentrification of the slums and unattended neighbourhoods, a lot of residential areas in the Southwest district of the region were demolished while their residents were scattered around the neighbouring regions and lost their sense of community. These Black communities that were forced to move out from their long-time homes were placed in Anacostia, a neighbourhood that is predominantly white. With this act of desegregation, however, there has been a lot of dissatisfaction from both white and Black communities as cohabitation also meant desegregated schools and mutual understanding towards one another’s culture and way of living, a type of approach that the white communities were still mostly lacking.

Although deeper research on the history of Southwest would shed light on both past and current architectural and social problems of the district, the photograph of our analysis by itself reveals a lot about the process of gentrification and its possible effects on Black communities. When we look at the photo, we can see certain buildings have been demolished while others are left standing which may point out the gentrification did not include the whole street, rather targeted specific type of housing considered unfit for the envisioned new city planning. The demolished building is obviously shorter than the one left standing and seems to have a different construction that adds to the varied materials when compared with the rest of the red-brick buildings.

In addition to the differences in materials, the site of demolishment also includes the residue of wood, which might suggest the differences of architecture when compared with the rest of the street. We might theorize that, due to the socio-economic class that Black people were placed in by the embedded racism in the US until the Civil Rights Movement and even after that, the demolished building was a newer building when compared with the classical red-brick houses of colonial heritage and was more likely to later addition to the city planning in the early 20th century. The white painting was revealed with the destruction of the building, and it shows that the demolished house shared the wall with the one left standing.  This architectural decision might be due to financial concerns, as a shared wall would decrease money paid to craftsmen and for materials needed for additional construction. The paint of the wall also suggests that the house is a one-story building, and it is expected to be smaller in size when compared with others.

Another important aspect of the photograph is the other architectural element that catches the viewers’ attention as it stands tall and towers behind the demolished site: the Washington Monument. Built to commemorate the successes of George Washington, the monument is one of the landmarks of Washington, D.C. However, it is important to recognize what the monument may symbolize especially in the context of race and architecture as Washington was a former slave owner. While he was the last president who owned slaves and freed the people he enslaved upon his death, that would not change the fact that he exploited many people in the span of his lifetime. Thus, the monument that was built to eternize his legacy also carries a quite daunting past for the Black citizens of the country and reminds the Black community that while slavery is abolished, this does not mean they are considered equals to others.

From the documentation of the time, as well as the exhibition of Meghelli, we know that the district was inhabited by Black communities who have been living there for a considerable amount of time.3 Due to the segregation and racial isolation, they mostly have been living in close tied communities where they would be partially free to live with their cultures/traditions and away from the isolation and discrimination in the shared public spaces they use with the white population. I would like to point out that architecture allowed Black people to have space free of the discrimination of white people, where their skin colour did not restrict them from existing physically and socially. While segregated spaces were products of racism against Black people and a direct result of the absurd ideology of white supremacy, Black neighbourhoods free from white intervention allowed people to live in some kind of normality and away from the constant reminder of how their blackness alienated them from the rest of society.

Photography, as in the case of other art forms, aims to capture a moment in time in which it reflects the social, political, emotional and physical situation a specific group, an individual, or what society as a whole is experiencing. In this case, this particular photograph taken in 1959 in Southwest Washington D.C. shows the Washington Monument standing tall and strong behind the demolished Black neighbourhood which is destroyed like it never existed. Thus, what the frame captured in the photograph and the particular alignment of the building is important to emphasize as it would help us understand the architectural composition.  While the memories and family history of the former building’s residents have been erased with the demolishment of the house and the replacement of the family, it is not only the physical space that is being targeted but also the social ties that Black people from within their neighbourhoods. As architecture carries both physical and symbolic meanings, the all-powerful and mighty appearance of the Washington Monument behind the crumbles of buildings which was once someone’s safe place.

There are two sides to this photograph; an interpretation that suggests the success of the ongoing Civil Rights Movement which pushes the administration to take action against the demolishment of segregated spaces and integrating Black people within white communities, and another interpretation that suggests the demolishment of Black neighbourhoods as a way of dismantling the unity within Black community which became even stronger with the Civil Rights Movement. The first interpretation would be an optimistic one and assumes that the people formerly living in demolished spaces would be placed somewhere they would equally feel safe and free. While the destruction of segregated spaces would be direct action against the discrimination against Black people, it is also undeniable that architectural or political changes may not be reciprocated in the society. When it comes to the second interpretation, however, we can see how scattering the Black neighbourhoods and unity would be working in the advantage of the people against desegregation and equal rights to all citizens regardless of their race. Being physically approximate to one another and finding power in supporting each other would work against the agendas of white-male dominated administrations. Using city planning as an excuse to divide up the communities is damaging by itself; however, when urban planning included demolishment of Black-owned businesses, this would directly affect the financial stability and power of the people.

It is important to emphasize that the demolished building in the photograph was not identified; therefore, we are not certain whether it was a residential space or a business owned by Black people. The meaning of demolishment changes depending on the purpose of the space. If the building in the photograph was a business owned by Black people, like a barbershop or a store, then the effects of demolishment would be even greater on the society as that space would be serving more than just a family but also the Black community of the neighbourhood in general. If the building in the photograph is in fact a Black owned business, we can assume that it was one of the places seized by with the landmark 1954 Supreme Court case of Bertman v. Parker,4 as the government was granted the right to seize the private property and evacuate the owners with this case. While compensation was promised, a lot of Black-owned shops and businesses were either moved to places with exclusively white communities or far away from their original place of settlement.  Considering the time in which the social and political climate would not allow Black-owned businesses to thrive in white neighbourhoods, it would be a direct attack on their household incomes. Thus, this interpretation could also be associated with the symbolic presence of the Washington Monument behind the demolished building as a way of emphasizing the administration’s power on Black communities, both socially and financially.

When we discuss race and what it corresponds to in the mid-20th century in the US, we must mention architecture’s place within this context. Whether we are referring to created or demolished space of or for Black people or the existence/lack of Black architects in society, documentation of the 1950s shows how architectural elements are direct reflections of the social and political climate in regard to race. Thus, this photograph of the demolished building gives us a glimpse into the integrated nature of architecture and politics, while emphasizing the importance of reading art and architecture with a grain of salt, especially when the issue is as delicate as race.


Alara Dileklen is an undergraduate student at the Peter Guo-hua Fu School of Architecture, McGill University. This essay was written for ARCH 251.


1 Samir Meghelli, “A Right to the City,” Smithsonian Anacostia Community Museum, Smithsonian Institution. Accessed March 31, 2021.

2 “Conversation with James Baldwin, Open Vault,” Open Vault, WGBH Educational Foundation (1963).

3 Allison Keyes, “A New Show About Neighborhoods Facing Gentrification Offers a Cautionary Tale,” Smithsonian Institution, (May 9, 2018),

4 Samuel Berman and Solomon H. Feldman, Executors of the State of Max R. Morris, Deceased, Appellants, v. Andrew PARKER, John A. Remon, James E. Colliflower, et al. (Supreme Court November 22, 1954).

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