Judy Garland, Barbra Streisand, Shirley Bassey, Cher – have long been adored and idolized by gay men the world over, including this writer.  However, black church-going sissies born between 1940 and 1950 had their own personal darling – Clara Ward.  Tiny and demure (no more than 5’2”), this lady – who was the inspiration behind Aretha Franklin – captured the hearts of gay gospel music fans as no one before or after.

 It was not necessarily her singing that reeled them in.  The voice was neither strong nor booming like the one possessed by her contemporary, Mahalia Jackson.  Clara’s voice, though rich and pure, was tiny and nasal – almost haunting and eerie.  Neither was it exceptional physical beauty that enraptured hearts as was in the case with one of her successors in the field, Tremaine Hawkins.  She was also a good musician, writer, and arranger, but not as nearly prolific or profound as another counterpart, James Cleveland.

What was it, then?  The beautiful, flowing, sequined gowns?  Or the sometimes outlandish wigs and hairpieces?  Maybe it was the fancy footwork and stage routines that would have rivaled any R & B group of the day.  Probably, it was the combination of all the above, added to a mixture of the intangible with the tangible.  Whatever it was, Clara Ward had been transformed – through the careful and strategic maneuvers of her mother, Gertrude – into someone, or rather something, much bigger than life for so many gay gospel brothers.

Clara Ward was propelled into national prominence with the success of the Ward Singers recording of Surely, God is Able – the first gospel song to sell a million copies.  They reigned as the top female gospel singing group in the nation throughout the 1950’s.    However, their popularity began to diminish within the church world due to personnel changes in the group.  Shrewdly and calculatingly, Mother Gertrude and Clara began to market their talents outside the church world.  Soon, they were being booked at the Newport Jazz Festival, Disneyland, and in clubs up and down the Las Vegas Strip.  Now, they were definitely outcasts in the world of the black church.  This role of pariah probably endeared her even more to the black gay world.  Clara and the Wards may have had trouble getting churches and gospel promoters to book them, but they were being pursued by television producers and Hollywood promoters galore.  From the sixties until the time of her death in 1973, they appeared on practically every variety and entertainment show on all three major networks.  Their track record even included guest appearances in movies with Hank Williams, Jr., Jayne Mansfield, and the Isley Brothers.

Gay men (black and white) loved Clara and the Ward girls.  They flocked to see them at Disneyland; they packed the night clubs where they were appearing.  Black drag queens in gay clubs across the country were even romping through the Wards’ version of Old Landmark as a staple of their repertoire.  And the love affair was mutual.  Clara’s sister, Willa Ward-Royster, recalls in her memoirs How I Got Over:

“We (Willa and Clara) had met plenty of gays and usually had great fun in their company – it was easy to admire their creativity and wit.”

In regards to Clara’s own sexuality, Willa further states in her book:

“I asked Clara to tell me about “liking girls.”   She (Clara) said, “There’s not a lot to tell.”  . . . I prodded my sister to tell me more, but she kept drifting off to other subjects.  Never again did we approach that topic, and never again did I ask her about her involvement with lesbianism.”

In November of 1972 after a sensational appearance on The Flip Wilson Show, Clara once again returned to her church roots.  She had recorded a series of gospel albums for Nashboro Records.  That resulted in her being booked in Nashville for an old time gospel show at the historic War Memorial Auditorium.  Critics said that church people took offense at the Wards’ demonstrative showmanship.  Critics said that the church people had not forgiven them for “going the way of the world”.  Critics said that true gospel lovers would laugh at them or even walk out on their performance.  That night in Nashville, Clara once again proved her critics wrong.  The performance that night was like (in the words of Mother Gertrude) “judgment day”!  The “children” were falling out in the aisles.

That night turned out to be Clara Ward’s last major performance.  Two months later, she was dead at the age of forty-eight. 

She would have been eighty-three years old this April.

Happy Birthday, Clara