The Man Who Wrote “Rum and Coca-Cola” The irony involved in combining Coca-Cola – the all-American soft drink - with intoxicating tropical liquors was noted as far back as 1900 when the drink was first exported to Cuba (there a rum and Coke was slyly renamed a “Cuba Libre”), but the term “Rum and Coca-Cola” as an easy metaphor for cultural and racial “mixing” achieved new and lasting status during World War II when the United States garrisoned over 25,000 armed forces personnel in Trinidad. According to a former executive at Canning & Co., the sales of Coca-Cola in this period increased by a factor of ten – from 10,000 cases a month to 100,000 cases!

In the tent season of 1943 (Carnival was suspended but the tents were packed with Yankee soldiers) a young calypsonian from south named Lord Invader (real name Rupert Grant) came onstage with a song about the U.S. military “occupation” and it became one of the most popular songs of the year. Dozens of different verses appeared, ad-libbed by soldier and civilian alike, but the famous sex-for-money chorus never changed:

“Drinkin’ rum and Coca-Cola, Go down Point Cumana. Both mother and daughter Workin’ for the Yankee dollar.”

It seemed as though Lord Invader’s song would pass quietly into the annals of calypso lore, especially since Invader was not able to travel or record during the war. But then, through a turn of events which can only be described as stranger-than-fiction, “Rum and Coca-Cola”, as sung by others, became the most listened

to and fought over calypso song of all time – translated into six foreign languages: French, Spanish, German, Czech, Greek and Finnish!

What happened was this – in September 1943 a Yankee comedian named Morey Amsterdam visited Trinidad to entertain the troops, heard the song, and when he

returned to the States he passed it off as his own composition. He was quoted later as saying, “I never thought it would have any commercial value.”

How wrong he was. Recorded by the Andrews Sisters in late 1944, it became the #1 best-selling song in America in 1945 with sales of 2.5 million records.

When the incredible news reached Trinidad Lord Invader’s life was changed forever. From then on he was known as “The Man Who Wrote ‘Rum and Coca-Cola’”.

Spurred on by the Espinet brothers, Charles and Cedric (Charles, an editor at the GUARDIAN,

broke the news to Invader; Cedric paid for his plane flight), Invader flew to New York in February 1945 and sued for copyright infringement. The suit was actually brought by Invader’s manager, a Guyanese businessman named

Mohamed Khan, who had printed the lyrics of “Rum and Coca-Cola” in a souvenir booklet.

In New York Lord Invader became an overnight celebrity and was vaulted into the top rank of calypso singers for the first time, even over the likes of Lion and Atilla. Soon after his arrival he was invited to meet Eleanor Roosevelt and he composed and sang a song especially for the occasion.

By all reports, this sudden burst of limelight fell on Invader as the tropical sun falls on a winter-weary tourist - he couldn’t get enough of it. He was 5’ 6” tall and he had the personality, some would say, of a short man: he craved attention. Of his new home in Brooklyn, Invader would later sing:

“The girls in Brooklyn are so accommodating, Fascinating and don’t talk about romancing. Their physical stature have me hypnotized The way they gaze at me with their magnetic eyes.”

For the next two years Invader (when he wasn’t under hypnosis) walked through a minefield of intrigue and double-dealing in New York. There were bribery attempts (Invader claimed under oath that Amsterdam’s manager offered him $2000 to drop the suit and go back to Trinidad) and two high-stakes copyright infringement trials.

But it was worth it.

On February 27, 1947 the judge in the first trial rendered a verdict in favor of the plaintiff, Mohamed Khan. Using unusually blunt language the judge delivered a stinging rebuke to Morey Amsterdam, calling his infringement “deliberate and intentional” (which would have exposed him to double or triple damages) and awarded all “gains, profits, emoluments, and advantages” from the publication of “Rum and Coca-Cola” to Invader and Khan.

From there the case dragged on for three more years with appeals and a second trial involving Lionel Belasco, another Trinidadian, who claimed authorship of the melody of “Rum and Coca-Cola”. But finally, on December 22, 1949 Invader flew from Trinidad to New York to collect his share of the settlement.

How much did he get for his troubles? This is what people always want to know, but sadly the question cannot be answered with certainty – the details of the settlement, although approved by the court, were kept secret. But it is safe to say that the total financial recovery was the largest in the history of civil litigation of this type. The best estimate is that Lord Invader pocketed $30,000 U.S. after taxes (his windfall would have been taxed in the U.S. at a high rate) which would be equivalent to $1.8 million TT in 2012.

Whatever the exact amount was Invader returned to Trinidad in the winter of 1950 with more money than any calypsonian had ever seen. Which brought up an interesting question: what should he do with it? Put it in the bank? Buy a house in Woodbrook? Please! What he did was spend it as quickly as possible on his entourage by opening a nightclub (the “Calypso Club”) in Port of Spain which was operated with a total disregard for financial controls. As reported in the GUARDIAN, the club opened on March 4, 1950 at the corner of Nelson St. and Queen St. The report listed Invader as the "president" of the club.

It wasn’t open very long. The following year Invader was toiling in the tents like a regular calypsonian and times were tough in Trinidad with the Yankee soldiers gone. In a song recorded “after the fall” he reflected on his plight as follows:

“In Trinidad the girls may get fretful, And say the Lord Invader’s ungrateful; But when I had plenty money, I spent it on them extravagantly. Homes for them I furnished, Now I am suffering financial paralysis.”

Invader desperately cast about for another hit song. Thinking that there might be some lightning in another bottle he even wrote a song called “Pepsi-Cola” (“Through the system Pepsi stimulates/It rejuvenates and recuperates.”). But the hits never happened. It became clear that he would never be able to escape the shadow of his famous song.

And it got worse. In a truly sickening twist of fate, Invader had sold his rights to ”Rum and Coca-Cola” to Morey Amsterdam and others back in 1950 as part of the final disposition of the litigation. (That is why Amsterdam is listed with

performing rights organizations today as the rightful copyright holder.) In theory every time Invader sang the song, as his audience demanded, Morey Amsterdam collected a fee. He began to actively discourage interest in the song, saying in an interview, “It [“Rum and Coca-Cola”] is not by any means my best.” Other songs of his, he said, were “much to be preferred.”

In 1955 it appears (documentation is hard to come by) that Invader received a second (deferred) payment as part of the settlement with Amsterdam. This allowed him to leave Trinidad and go on a whirlwind pleasure trip through North America, out to California and down into Mexico. Once again, the money poured out of his pockets until it was gone.

He spent the next four years traveling in Europe and the U.S., always short of funds, until his luck ran out. In the spring of 1959 he was forced by the U.S. Immigration Service to leave the country and he arrived back in Port of Spain without a cent to his name, ignored by his countrymen, and not at all happy to be back in his homeland. He was only forty-four years of age but photographs show a much older-looking man. He began writing piteous letters to his associates begging for legal and financial help so that he could get back to New York. (He finally succeeded.)

* * *

When Lord Invader returned to Trinidad Mustapha Matura was nineteen years old and living in Belmont. Would he have been aware of Invader’s rags-to-riches-to-rags life story? Of course. Which brings up the next question: to what extent was Lord Invader a model for the character of Creator? Well, there are some obvious parallels, but Lord Invader loyalists would be quick to point out that he never gave in to the despair that hangs over Matura’s play.

In fact, if Invader had lived to see “Rum and Coca-Cola” (he died in New York in 1961 of natural causes) he would have wanted to add one more verse to his famous song, just to set things straight. It would have gone like this:

“When I sat down to watch the play, I said, ‘could that be me?’ No way! I loved it when they sang my song, But on that stage I don’t belong!

Drinkin rum and Coca-Cola . . .”

! 2012 Kevin Burke

Kevin Burke is a freelance photographer and calypsophile based in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He maintains a website devoted to “Rum and Coca-Cola” (the song). Visit at www.rumandcocacolareader.com