Arts & Entertainment
For many Black people, Afro Sheen is a household name.
Businessman George Johnson created the products in 1954 on Chicago’s South Side. He pushed through racial barriers to become one of the most successful Black entrepreneurs in the U.S. by the late 1960s. His business, Johnson Products Company, is leaving behind a historic legacy in the Black community.
He and writer Hilary Beard are now telling the story of how Johnson built his business from scratch in a new book called “Afro Sheen: How I Revolutionized an Industry With the Golden Rule, From Soul Train to Wall Street.”
The book chronicles Johnson’s business moves over the years, from selling men’s hair products to barbers in Chicago to developing products for women and expanding his business internationally.
The book also explores Johnson’s personal experiences, as well as the golden rule, the guiding principle of treating others as one would want to be treated.
“I never intended to write a memoir and never attempted to do it,” Johnson said. “But on Nov. 21, 2021, I had an epiphany. It was a Sunday and I was watching TV. I clearly heard five words: ‘You must tell your story.’ I believe it was from the Lord.”
Beard, the book’s co-author, said working with Johnson provided an opportunity to tell a part of history that often goes untold. The memoir tracks Johnson’s business through decades of segregation, Civil Rights movements and changes in Black hair trends.
Beard added that she hopes Johnson’s story encourages entrepreneurs to persevere through adversity.
“We see various moments when he could have given up,” Beard said. “Many entrepreneurs struggle, and we need not frame it in a bad way.”
Read an excerpt from the book below.
PROLOGUE
I stepped out of the jitney at Sixty-Third and South Parkway, and braved the snow and winter wind for three blocks, on my way to one of the consumer loan companies sprinkling Chicago’s South Side. There was no doubt about it, this was gonna be a big day. All I needed was $250 (about $2,600 today) to start my own business.
It was February 1954, and I was a production compounder for the Fuller Products Company, one of the largest Black-owned businesses in the United States. Run by the master salesman and millionaire S. B. Fuller, this consumer products firm was one of the most significant employers in the community. During my off-hours working with a chemist there, I had co-created a revolutionary hair-straightening formula I knew would turn the Black men’s hair care market upside down. Everyone knew that the Whiter you looked — whether it was because you had light skin, a narrow nose, thin lips, or straight hair — the more likely mainstream employers were to accept you, treat you humanely, or hire you. Many Black men wanted straighter hair, like the pompadour and finger-waved hairstyles some successful Black entertainers were wearing, from Cab Calloway to Chubby Checker, Little Richard, Duke Ellington, and Nat King Cole.
I needed a seed loan to match the funds my business partner had put up. Fortunately, I’d patronized this loan company several times and had a track record of repayment. Just $250 would provide me and my family a ticket out of poverty.
For ten minutes I waited in the large open room, listening to my neighbors, all of whom were Black, present their case to one of several White loan officers. I heard a housekeeper plead for money to buy a stove. A laborer who needed a loan to fix his truck. Before long, a middle-aged man wearing a gray suit stood up and motioned that he was ready for me.
“My name is George Johnson,” I stated confidently as I settled into the chair across the desk from him. “I’ve got something that’s going to allow me to build a great big business!”
I then described my professional expertise, my eight years of employment with Mr. Fuller, and my innovation.
“What kind of loan are you asking for?” the man inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“All I need is two hundred and fifty bucks,” I told him. “Just give me the two fifty and I’m on my way!”
I spoke enthusiastically. However, something about the twinkle in the man’s gray eyes and his barely there smile unsettled my stomach. He shuffled papers, then chuckled and cleared his throat.
“I’m gonna do you a favor,” he began in a patronizing tone, leaning forward and running his fingers through his ash-brown hair. “If I loan you that money and your boss finds out that you are in the same business that he’s in, he’s gonna fire you. You’re not gonna be able to pay
the money back. So I’m not gonna loan you the money.”
Then he sat back, crossed his arms, and grinned.
My stomach turned a somersault, but I didn’t want the man to see my feathers droop. I stood up and put my cap on my head.
“Good day,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. As I strode out, I didn’t bother to close the front door. I kept walking until I was several storefronts up the street and out of his sight. At that point, I stopped and stood limp as a dishrag, as I considered my nonexistent alternatives. I was already working three jobs, and neither my mother nor John, my older
brother, had money to lend me. The El train rumbling overhead jolted me back to the moment. I walked to South Parkway and flagged a jitney.
“Where you heading?”
“Sixty-Ninth Place and Indiana,” I answered.
But somewhere along the ride, a warm thought wafted into my mind as softly as a leaf floats from a tree on an autumn afternoon.
This is just one branch of the loan company. There is a central branch where they clear people’s credit. Just wait a few days and go to a different office.
Several days later I did just that. This time, I shared no stories of Black men with innovative chemical formulas, products, or business plans.
I made up a tale, instead.
“I’m taking my wife to California,” I said, my smile as bright as the Los Angeles sky. “I need two hundred and fifty dollars for a vacation loan.”
I knew this request wouldn’t rattle his belief that he was superior to me. Nor would it challenge his stereotypes of Black men as subservient or unintelligent.
Thirty minutes later, I walked out with a check in my hand.
Excerpted from the book AFRO SHEEN by George E. Johnson with Hilary Beard. Copyright © 2025 by George E. Johnson. Reprinted with permission of Little, Brown and Company. All rights reserved.
