(cont.) I really was fooled ‘cause those trannies were beautiful and had sexy female looking bodies.
You were auditioning for theater stuff, but I remember two of our ushers, a guy and a girl, auditioned for skating slots. The guy really skated well and twirled a baton even better and did so while skating. The girl skated well, but had no other talent to add to it, but both of them were hired. We found out later the girl was only fifteen, but used a fake ID to get the usher’s job and apparently no one checked when she switched to the stage show. They had to let her go.
Another memory: I was at the stage door desk when a man I never saw before came in and asked to speak to one of the chorus line skaters. I called up to the dressing rooms and paged the girl and told her who was waiting. He told me he was her agent. While we were waiting for the skater to come down, he took a large album out of his brief case and opened it for me. He said, “Take a look at these girls and if you see one you like I’ll fix you up.” I looked at a couple of pages of headshots mostly, but some full length. I pointed out one of these and the guy laughedd and said, “ they’re all trannies.” I almost through him out.
Richka: It was Levy who fired me. He was one of three usher captains: The others were Poland and a real nice black dude, tall and witty. I think his name was Mr. Washington.
When Levy caught me sitting down, he told me to follow him. We went down to the basement via the loading elevator. When we got down there, he told me I was fired and made some kind of vague threat. I don’t remember exactly what it was now, but I do remember taking off my uniform jacket and asking him if he wanted to take me on now. He backed off and told me to turn in my uniform and just leave.
He was a pretty big guy, but soft and slow, so I wasn’t worried too much about his threat. I was a street kid from Queens who fought my way throughout my younger days, so I knew when someone was bluffing.
When I went to hand in my uniform, Mr. Poland was there and already knew I was fired. He said he wouldn’t have fired me, but couldn’t do anything about it, so I handed in my uniform and they mailed me my last check.
(Continued) When I worked the executive elevator I lifted the likes of Sam “Roxy†Rothafel, Sonja Kaye, Sonja Henie, Lana Turner, most of the cast of “Carousel,†Gordon McRae, Shirley Jones, Cameron Mitchell, among them.
One day while working the executive elevator I came in even though I was feeling ill. I was suffering from back pains after standing all morning operating the elevator. During the usual lull in elevator traffic during lunch hour, just a few minutes before my break, my back was aching so much I sat down on a nearby bench. There was a heating vent next to it and the heat felt good on my back. Unfortunately, an ushers’ captain came by and saw me sitting (a big no-no) and fired me on the spot.
I was an usher, lobby doorman, executive elevator operator and stage doorman at the Roxy in 1955-56. The films I remember seeing were The Rains of Ranchipur, Good Morning Miss Dove and Carousel. There were lots of others, but it’s been too many years ago to come to mind now.
I also remember helping publish the ushers’ newsletter and the funny hand signals we used to telegraph our headcount of the moviegoers seated in our assigned sections: Orchestra, Loge, Lower Balcony and Upper Balcony.
The stage shows I remember most were the ice extravaganzas. The first one I worked at the stage door starred Sonya Kaye (Klupfer), a recent Olympic figure skating medalist. She skated one number to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata†that was set on a blue lit stage and her performance was sublime and got thunderous applause. In 2009 she was inducted into the Ice Skating Hall of Fame as a talented figure skater and successful skating coach. One of her successes was Dorothy Hammill.
I was lucky enough to get to know one of her sisters and even escorted her from the theater to Times Square for New Year’s Eve festivities (1955 to 56). We took the subway and walked, but couldn’t get near the Square, so I took her home.
The next show starred Sonja Henie. I saw her throw several diva tantrums then, one where she tore into the ice clowns for tearing up the ice before one of her solo numbers. This was unreasonable because the clowns ALWAYS tore up the ice. That came with their act.
One job that was rotated among the ushers was where we were given a ticket to Radio City Music Hall and counted the audience at that theater’s feature film and stage show. We filled out a form with our count of all the sections of that theater that we could sneak into. That was not too difficult to do, because the Music Hall ushers seemed to pay more attention to the film or stage show being performed than to the comings and goings of the patrons.
Continued—
I remember when “Stagecoach” was playing at the Hobart and my mother MADE me take my two much younger brothers with me (Oh, the humiliation!) I needed another nickle for admission, so I had to agree. Unfortunately, both my brothers got so antsy and noisy the theater’s matron (white dress, gloves, cap and a flashlight) made me take them out. I didn’t get to see the end of “Stagecoach” until several years later.
We use to see 2 features, a action serial, one or sometimes 2 shorts, Movietone News and a couple of cartoons. All for 15 cents admission.
I went to PS 151 just down the block from the Hobart Theater. I lived on 48th St between Northern Blvd and Broadway. To get to the theater I went past my high school, Wm. C. Bryant HS (“Out the door in ‘54”), then past 151.
Cardboard posters were in almost every store window in the area with logos and stars names and movie titles and dates adorning them, along with the Hobart Theater’s summertime motto, “Beat the heat in a Hobart seat” because it was one of the first to have air-conditioning. We tough kids used to parody the motto as, “Beat your meat in a Hobart seat.”
(cont.) Maybe some more reminiscences will come up later. Stay tuned.
(cont.) I really was fooled ‘cause those trannies were beautiful and had sexy female looking bodies.
You were auditioning for theater stuff, but I remember two of our ushers, a guy and a girl, auditioned for skating slots. The guy really skated well and twirled a baton even better and did so while skating. The girl skated well, but had no other talent to add to it, but both of them were hired. We found out later the girl was only fifteen, but used a fake ID to get the usher’s job and apparently no one checked when she switched to the stage show. They had to let her go.
Thanks for the update. I’ll look for the book.
Another memory: I was at the stage door desk when a man I never saw before came in and asked to speak to one of the chorus line skaters. I called up to the dressing rooms and paged the girl and told her who was waiting. He told me he was her agent. While we were waiting for the skater to come down, he took a large album out of his brief case and opened it for me. He said, “Take a look at these girls and if you see one you like I’ll fix you up.” I looked at a couple of pages of headshots mostly, but some full length. I pointed out one of these and the guy laughedd and said, “ they’re all trannies.” I almost through him out.
Richka: It was Levy who fired me. He was one of three usher captains: The others were Poland and a real nice black dude, tall and witty. I think his name was Mr. Washington.
When Levy caught me sitting down, he told me to follow him. We went down to the basement via the loading elevator. When we got down there, he told me I was fired and made some kind of vague threat. I don’t remember exactly what it was now, but I do remember taking off my uniform jacket and asking him if he wanted to take me on now. He backed off and told me to turn in my uniform and just leave.
He was a pretty big guy, but soft and slow, so I wasn’t worried too much about his threat. I was a street kid from Queens who fought my way throughout my younger days, so I knew when someone was bluffing.
When I went to hand in my uniform, Mr. Poland was there and already knew I was fired. He said he wouldn’t have fired me, but couldn’t do anything about it, so I handed in my uniform and they mailed me my last check.
Sorry about the mix-up, but, no, I didn’t know Ben Hall. No problem there, though.
(Continued) When I worked the executive elevator I lifted the likes of Sam “Roxy†Rothafel, Sonja Kaye, Sonja Henie, Lana Turner, most of the cast of “Carousel,†Gordon McRae, Shirley Jones, Cameron Mitchell, among them.
One day while working the executive elevator I came in even though I was feeling ill. I was suffering from back pains after standing all morning operating the elevator. During the usual lull in elevator traffic during lunch hour, just a few minutes before my break, my back was aching so much I sat down on a nearby bench. There was a heating vent next to it and the heat felt good on my back. Unfortunately, an ushers’ captain came by and saw me sitting (a big no-no) and fired me on the spot.
It was great fun while it lasted.
I was an usher, lobby doorman, executive elevator operator and stage doorman at the Roxy in 1955-56. The films I remember seeing were The Rains of Ranchipur, Good Morning Miss Dove and Carousel. There were lots of others, but it’s been too many years ago to come to mind now.
I also remember helping publish the ushers’ newsletter and the funny hand signals we used to telegraph our headcount of the moviegoers seated in our assigned sections: Orchestra, Loge, Lower Balcony and Upper Balcony.
The stage shows I remember most were the ice extravaganzas. The first one I worked at the stage door starred Sonya Kaye (Klupfer), a recent Olympic figure skating medalist. She skated one number to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata†that was set on a blue lit stage and her performance was sublime and got thunderous applause. In 2009 she was inducted into the Ice Skating Hall of Fame as a talented figure skater and successful skating coach. One of her successes was Dorothy Hammill.
I was lucky enough to get to know one of her sisters and even escorted her from the theater to Times Square for New Year’s Eve festivities (1955 to 56). We took the subway and walked, but couldn’t get near the Square, so I took her home.
The next show starred Sonja Henie. I saw her throw several diva tantrums then, one where she tore into the ice clowns for tearing up the ice before one of her solo numbers. This was unreasonable because the clowns ALWAYS tore up the ice. That came with their act.
One job that was rotated among the ushers was where we were given a ticket to Radio City Music Hall and counted the audience at that theater’s feature film and stage show. We filled out a form with our count of all the sections of that theater that we could sneak into. That was not too difficult to do, because the Music Hall ushers seemed to pay more attention to the film or stage show being performed than to the comings and goings of the patrons.
Continued—
I remember when “Stagecoach” was playing at the Hobart and my mother MADE me take my two much younger brothers with me (Oh, the humiliation!) I needed another nickle for admission, so I had to agree. Unfortunately, both my brothers got so antsy and noisy the theater’s matron (white dress, gloves, cap and a flashlight) made me take them out. I didn’t get to see the end of “Stagecoach” until several years later.
We use to see 2 features, a action serial, one or sometimes 2 shorts, Movietone News and a couple of cartoons. All for 15 cents admission.
I went to PS 151 just down the block from the Hobart Theater. I lived on 48th St between Northern Blvd and Broadway. To get to the theater I went past my high school, Wm. C. Bryant HS (“Out the door in ‘54”), then past 151.
Cardboard posters were in almost every store window in the area with logos and stars names and movie titles and dates adorning them, along with the Hobart Theater’s summertime motto, “Beat the heat in a Hobart seat” because it was one of the first to have air-conditioning. We tough kids used to parody the motto as, “Beat your meat in a Hobart seat.”