Word quickly spread about the confrontation, infuriating Harlem residents. Some erroneous accounts were of Bandy lying shot and dying. Angry crowds of African Americans—who had been seething with resentment after their veteran sons, husbands, and brothers served in the United States military and returned to a country that still discriminated against them and denied them employment—took to the streets. By the next morning, Harlem looked like a war zone. Multiple shops had been looted and vandalized, and stones had been thrown through storefronts and apartment windows. Thousands of law enforcement officers were deployed to stop the rioting, including 6,600 cops, 8,000 state guardsmen, and some volunteers. It was reported that five African Americans were killed by the police and four hundred blacks sustained injuries. Approximately five hundred black men and women were arrested. Damages in Harlem ran upward of $5 million, which would be the equivalent of $71.4 million today.4 Elinor’s whereabouts during the riots or her opinion of them isn’t known. But the display of racial animosity would have been the first time she witnessed racial strife to that degree.

A public health crisis also raged in the neighborhood at the time. Tuberculosis reached epidemic levels in Harlem in the 1920s and 1930s, fueled by overcrowding and fanned by inadequate medical facilities. Harlem residents teamed up with African American newspapers to demand better health care. Black physicians, nurses, and social workers also joined the cause by initiating an active health education campaign. Health officials typically didn’t make an epidemic in the black community a public issue unless it had the potential to impact the health of whites. The tuberculosis crisis perpetuated negative stereotypes of racial inferiority. African Americans were seen as susceptible to disease at higher rates because of their “genetic” deficits. It took the persistent efforts of African American activists to counter the stereotypes by explaining and revealing the links between poverty, segregation, and disease that undermined the health of blacks, rather than any connection to genetics or character.5

If Elinor had stayed in New York, she’d be living in an environment that was as volatile as it was thrilling. A career in the military, even for black women, came with the hope that in return for an outward display of patriotism, one would be treated as a full citizen of the United States—something that had been denied to the majority of African Americans whose families had been in the country for generations. For Elinor, whose privileged background positioned her to expect a certain standard of treatment from society, the idea of serving in the Nurse Corps carried even greater expectations. In her eyes, she imagined it would be equivalent to having a prestigious job—one that was far more rewarding and lucrative than that of a regular working nurse.

But when she reported for active duty at Fort Huachuca, seventy miles outside of Tucson, Elinor was greeted by a much harsher reality.