stores, the old Vanderbilt mansion, and some old friends as well - Tiffany’s, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the Plaza Hotel on the left, on the right the new Sherry Netherlands Hotel was almost complete, beautiful Central Park, the kids enjoying the ride.
We went as far as Harlem, 125th street, then caught another bus back. I explained that Harlem, the heart of the Afro-American community, was an important center of modern jazz music, called the ‘Harlem Renaissance.’ The people were well-dressed with an air of prosperity. This was long before the great migration of poor Afro- Americans from the South during World War II. Harlem, even through the 1940’s was a big attraction for its lively night life open to all races. Maybe the top Jazz and Blues performers ‘Satchmo’ Louis Armstrong and Bessie Smith might be there now?
I explained that Afro-Americans, in those days they called them Negroes or Colored, had a hard time in the White-dominated world, but it was gradually getting better. Still, many people were openly prejudiced, even in the North, where segregation was not law like in the South. Because communities were very close in those days, like villages, people were often suspicious of outsiders, people who were ‘different.’
Each community, White, Black, Asian generally kept to themselves, and it wasn’t a very tolerant world. This was true not only of race, but also ethnic groups. Usually immigrants, especially the Italians, Irish and Jews, all had their own neighborhoods and customs, even criminal gangs.
We rode all the way to Greenwich Village’s Washington Square and the big Roman-inspired arch in the park. The Village was still the Village, funky as always, with young people dressed in black, thick glasses, odd costumes, painters and chess players in the park, colorful ‘theme’ restaurants, not very different from our time. The Purple Pig was one I remembered seeing.
We went back to the hotel exhausted, the kids sleepy. We took a light dinner in our room and a much-needed bath. I knew the Round Table crowd would be upstairs playing poker all night, maybe all weekend. They dubbed their little group ‘The Thanatopsis, Pleasure and Inside Straight Club.’ How I would have loved to just be there to listen to them.
We sat up for a while listening to the radio over the city sounds of traffic, the distant rumble of the 6th Avenue El and dance music drifting in our open window from a nearby room along with the thump of dancing feet.
I ignored it until around 10 pm when there was a knock on the door. I opened it slowly, when a young man in a tuxedo and a woman in a shiny short evening dress with rolled stockings, having clearly partied too much already, stood smiling. They asked if I had any ‘Gordon Water’ or ice and would I like to join their party nearby?
“Can we go to the party?” Lauren asked.
“Yeah!” Jonathan said.
Turning to the kids I told them it’s too late and it’s not a party for kids.
“What’s Gordon Water?” Jonathan asked.
“Never mind, it’s gin, for grownups. Thanks, but I’ve got my grandkids here…”
“Oh,” she said looking in, “Say… they’re the cat’s meow! Sorry ‘bout the noise!” She waved at the kids who waved back…”See ya!” she said and started to giggle. The couple tripped off laughing. I watched them stagger down the hall, knocking on other doors.
The party had spilled into the hallway by now from the room a few doors down. I told the kids that in the ‘20’s it was not uncommon to have casual parties in hotels since the rooms were usually open, no TV. Since drinking was illegal, most people carried it with them secretly rather than go to bars or ‘speakeasies.’
“I guess people were just more open and friendlier in the ’20’s.”
“Cool!” the kids said.
“You know what? Let’s have look! We’ll never get to sleep with all this racket anyway.”
They grinned enthusiastically. We tiptoed down the hall to look in on the party.
Two young ‘Sheiks’ in rumpled tuxedos staggered out of the room holding a bottle singing ‘How dry I am…’
The young couple who knocked on our door saw us as they were returning from their mission with a bottle of gin. “Hey, come on in! Join us!”
“Uh…no…. but thanks all the same… just wanted to see what’s going on.”
We peeked in the crowded room.
It was a very young crowd. Everyone was in evening dress of course, the girls in short silk dresses, stockings rolled, with very short hairdos. The guy’s hair was also short, fashionably slicked down hard with shiny Brilliantine hair cream, which Jonathan thought was very strange-looking. There was a trio playing a sax, banjo and guitar, thumping out some very nice jazz. Only one couple was dancing in a tight embrace to the music doing the Bunny Hug. The others were sitting around with drinks, smoking cigarettes, the air almost blue with a tobacco haze, a girl was shaking a cocktail, a couple of people were passed out on the sofa, one with the ice bucket on his head; two other couples were hugging and kissing very passionately, the guys’ faces marked with their girlfriend’s bright red lipstick.
The kids took it all in, Jonathan grinning at me.
“Look! They’re kissing!”
“I can see that…”
“Here you go old Man! Scoth (Scotch)… right off the boat!” said one tipsy guy smiling as he thrust a drink into my hands. I discreetly put it down on the dresser. (You could never be certain in those days if it was real or ‘bootleg’ or fake, using bad alcohol and artificial flavors cheaply made that could even be poisonous!)
“Really, thanks but I can’t, I mean we’re not dressed for it and…” (The kids were in their PJ’s and I in the suit I had been in all day).
“Sss…OK!” he slurred out. “Shay…djyou ever meet Lulu?” He grabbed my shoulders pointing me at a very pretty girl sitting very carelessly, skirt hiked up to her thighs, who fluttered her hand at me flirtatiously. Her apparent ‘date’ was passed out next to her.
“Nooooo, not really…uh……we’ve got to go. Come on kids, let’s get to bed!”
“C…mere big boy, shid down wi me…party’s boring” Lulu said drunkenly as she waved me over.
“Uh…..no thanks…some other time maybe….”
“Awww….you’re all wet….c’mon, less have some fun!” she slurred.
“Allright…we gotta go…thanks all the same…bye!”
We started walking back.
“She looked smokin’ hot Lito!” Jonathan said mischievously, grinning.
“Where did you get THAT from?!” I asked incredulously.
“The Disney Channel,” he said defensively. “Wow did you see how drunk they were?”
“Well I guess the fact that liquor is not easy to get and you have only limited opportunity to drink makes people want to really party hard!” I explained.
An older gentleman in his bathrobe with an ice bucket passing by us jerked his thumb at the party: “Look at them! Flaming Youth! Gin, Jazz, short skirts and razzmatazz,…where does it all end? They’ll be the ruin of this country yet, mark my words!”
Somehow we eventually drifted off to sleep, dreams of the wild party so typical of the ‘20’s danced in my head. “Don’t bring Lulu…” I thought as the words of that song floated through my head.
Sunday, we slept in; time travel took a lot of energy, it seemed. We indulged in a leisurely breakfast in the room, and got dressed for a late Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the kids awestruck at the soaring gothic interior. It was of course all in Latin, the priests facing the altar, backs to the congregation. The kids looked puzzled, as I was myself, catching a phrase here or there.
Sunday in New York City is truly a day of rest, very little goes on. We went from St. Pats and walked to Central Park, taking in the beautifully dressed people out for a Sunday stroll. The kids noticed the difference. There were no casual clothes at all, everyone was decked out in their ‘Sunday Best’ the women walking proudly in light silk dresses with low-waists, fur-collared coats, shiny silk stockings and high heels, men dapper in well-tailored suits.
“Almost everybody wears hats!” Lauren observed.
“Hats are a big part of everyone’s dress, men and women,” I explained.
We went to the famous Central Park Zoo, home of the animals in ‘Madagascar.’ Somewhat disappointed, we then went to Grant’s Tomb on the upper west side. Not that we wanted to go there, it’s just was what everybody
