All Blood Runs Red (Phil Keith with Tom Clavin)

All Blood Runs Red: The Legendary Life of Eugene Bullard - Boxer, Pilot, Soldier, Spy
Phil Keith with Tom Clavin
Hanover Square Press
Nonfiction, Biography
**** (Good)

DESCRIPTION: Born in the late 19th century to a former slave father and Native American mother, Eugene Bullard's parents considered him the "lucky" child as the seventh of their family... but being a half-Black boy in Jim Crow Georgia was about as far from lucky as one could get. From an early age, Eugene was determined to escape the rampant, violent racism that he saw all around him, determined to reach the shores of France, where his father told him true equality was possible. Despite only having a second-grade education, the boy ran off as soon as he could manage - little imagining what he'd accomplish in the coming decades, from becoming one of the first Black fighter pilots in the Great War to rubbing shoulders with celebrities in his own jazz bar to spying on Nazis and more.

REVIEW: Eugene Bullard's life reads like an adventure novel, a tale of a boy coming from almost nothing to achieve more than his dreams, for all that many tried to deny him recognition and rewards. It is sadly telling that little of what he accomplished could have happened in the country of his birth, America, where racial animosities and prejudices remain sadly entrenched to this very day, well over a hundred years after his childhood. (In 2025, we're seeing just how shallow Jim Crow's grave really is, unfortunately... But I digress.)
Switching between distant overviews and closer, detailed moments of Bullard's incredible life, the authors paint a portrait of a man who was far from flawless, but principled and determined and unwilling to let the world grind him down. That portrait has some vague spots and blurred edges; between war damage and poor records, there are parts of his story that are just plain impossible to bring into focus, as his own story - recorded in a never-published autobiography - sometimes contradicts what can be determined as actual events. Other parts, though, have been corroborated, such as his impressive war record and long and varied careers, and these are more than enough to make his relative obscurity in modern America a disgrace (and further proof that, even nearly a century later, this country still has trouble grappling with accomplished non-white people and the virulent systemic racism that too often forms a backdrop to their deeds; even now, stories like this are being banned and erased by a regime that makes no secret of catering to white supremacy and alternate-facts history). Not that France was entirely free of problems, either, but it was only in France that a man like Eugene Bullard could flourish as he did for as long as he did, when he did. Proven parts of his story involve acquaintances and friendships with a galaxy of stars of his day, from war heroes to boxing legends to artists and authors to the many prominent entertainers who, like Bullard, found a warmer welcome in France than in America because of who they were. His well-earned loyalty to his adopted country landed him on the front lines in not one war, but two, with the medals and scars to show for it, as well as lifelong friendships that wound up being pivotal in his later years. The telling can be a bit dry and uneven at times, prone to tangents on other remarkable figures of the day, and there are some frustrating gaps that are simply impossible to fill in, people and events lost to time, though it managed to keep my interest even in the slower bits.
Stories like this can be, by turns, inspiring, depressing, and haunting. Inspiring, as they depict a life lived fully in the face of great adversity. Depressing, as such lives inevitably cast one's one rather pitiful existence into that much harsher a glare. Haunting, as such stories as Eugene Bullard's should have been guiding lights and stepping stones to a better and brighter future for our country and world, one where old prejudices and society-warping hatreds are outgrown at last and left in history's dustbin, but instead we find ourselves in a present that looks all too much like the world in which he struggled and fought to be seen as even a human, let alone a truly remarkable man, with nothing but fading ghosts of what could have - what should have - been.

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