We concluded our last exciting episode with what occurred when I was “tested” for my honesty by Fontainebleau security officer Wager Sharpe, and, as noted in said installment I passed the test with “flying colors.” As far as the hotel’s security people went that would stand me in good stead as over my four years at the hotel I did need to call upon them for assistance from time to time.
As I became more and more of a fixture, and got to know more and more people, both employees and guests, and showed that not only was I not afraid of hard work and long hours, but that I was willing to take on additional tasks, my acceptance as a friend and trusted employee was well known to all who I came in contact with.
Eventually the task of not only being the host for numerous social department activities but being the person who handed out the tickets to hotel and cabana guests when a major event to which the guests were invited (such as special concerts for the guests by Liberace, Eddie Fisher, Steve and Edie and others) became one of my most pleasurable—and favorite—duties.
At that time, before the hotel took over the Sorrento, just to the south, and, eventually, built a connecting building, the Social Desk was located on a “platform” three steps up from the lobby, on the south end. Behind said desk was the hotel’s art gallery and to the right of the desk were the steps to the fabled LaRonde Room, the great entertainment “auditorium” where performers such as Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, JR., Eddie Fisher, Count Basie and so many other legends performed.
The entire responsibility for handling the distribution of the noted ducats became mine and while I never abused that responsibility, a good few of my fellow employees in security, engineering, cabana club, food and beverage, and, yes, even management, would, on occasion, ask if I could and would save or hold a ticket or two for them so that that person could bring his or her wife or husband to one of the events. (No, Sammy and Frank never performed gratuitously for the guests!)
Being able to give the folks comp tickets really was a pleasure, and, of course, they, in return, were always not only welcoming but warmly gracious about “returning the favor,” hence I was always welcome to play pool at the bowling lanes in the indoor pool, or to visit—and have items printed—the print shop to see my friends, Barbara and Ed Vandermark. Jack Lee, the tall, stately gentleman who controlled entrance to the pool deck was always most gracious when I brought people in to spend the day at the cabana club.
It was a marvelous time and place for a young man to “grow up” and the experiences and learning opportunities didn’t border on but were incredibly.
Of course, handsome young devil that I was at the time, well-muscled and with a full head of jet black hair, it seems, in retrospect, that I apparently looked pretty good to the young (and, sometimes, not so young!) women of the time. Yes, I did work very hard, but, lordy, did we have fun!
One of my jobs as head counselor, program coordinator, and, eventually assistant director of entertainment was to hire the counselor and the special hosts and hostesses for the various activities and I was always careful to bring in people who I either knew well or know I could trust and among those was a terrific young fellow by the name of Oliver “Butch” Stallings.
Not only did Butch do a great job for us but he and I remained friends after I returned from Cornell and it would be he—Butch—who would, one week and one day after Thanksgiving of 1973, introduce me to a woman so stunningly beautiful that I was—well, yes, stunned! But I am jumping ahead of the story and in another chapter I will certainly share how Butch introduced us and what happened thereafter.
In the meantime, though, after that short digression, we return to the subject at hand and whether it was on the pool deck or in the hotel’s lobby or Fleur de Lis dining room or Chez Bon Bon Coffee Shop in the lower lobby, I met one lovely young woman after another. Some nights I had two dates and on more than one occasion, three!
One story, regarding one very, very sexy and beautiful girl or woman (she was 22 when I met her) bears re-telling, that, also, for another time.
After one term at 1/2SU and four terms at Suntan U (all five horrific) I was ready to give up college but it was at that propitious moment that I heard about the new program being started at Dade County Junior College, today’s Miami-Dade College. Because I was able to work out both my D C J C and my Fontainebleau schedules I spent three terms at D C J C, not only getting my first A’s and B’s (with the exception of one B in transportation at Suntan) in college but finishing my three terms with a 3.7692 average and a summer stint at Cornell’s School of Hotel Administration, a story previously recounted. We will however, bring today’s exciting discussion to a conclusion with this: On June 6, 1966 I received the incredible news that, yes, I had been accepted at Cornell and the shriek of joy that I gave out must have sounded like the scream that “Kramer” gave on the wonderful “Seinfeld” episode when he passed the kidney stone!
I don’t remember if I called Bennett or Mom first, but then I called Professors Joe Gregg and Jack Low (both, along with Mom, now of blessed memory) at DCJC, and Joe actually wept with joy, and, indeed, it was nothing but joyous and joyful to have achieved something that monumental, going on for a Bachelor’s Degree after having already spent four years in college. The great school overlooking Cayuga Lake transferred in only 39 or my 107 credits, meaning a was starting at Cornell as the equivalent of a sophomore, and, know what, I didn’t care. I had been accepted at one of America’s foremost universities, a member of the Ivy League, and at the finest school or college of Hotel Administration in the world. Nothing was going to stop me—and nothing did!
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A Bit of Personal Commentary—Part VI
We concluded our last exciting episode with what occurred when I was “tested” for my honesty by Fontainebleau security officer Wager Sharpe, and, as noted in said installment I passed the test with “flying colors.” As far as the hotel’s security people went that would stand me in good stead as over my four years at the hotel I did need to call upon them for assistance from time to time.
As I became more and more of a fixture, and got to know more and more people, both employees and guests, and showed that not only was I not afraid of hard work and long hours, but that I was willing to take on additional tasks, my acceptance as a friend and trusted employee was well known to all who I came in contact with.
Eventually the task of not only being the host for numerous social department activities but being the person who handed out the tickets to hotel and cabana guests when a major event to which the guests were invited (such as special concerts for the guests by Liberace, Eddie Fisher, Steve and Edie and others) became one of my most pleasurable—and favorite—duties.
At that time, before the hotel took over the Sorrento, just to the south, and, eventually, built a connecting building, the Social Desk was located on a “platform” three steps up from the lobby, on the south end. Behind said desk was the hotel’s art gallery and to the right of the desk were the steps to the fabled LaRonde Room, the great entertainment “auditorium” where performers such as Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, JR., Eddie Fisher, Count Basie and so many other legends performed.
The entire responsibility for handling the distribution of the noted ducats became mine and while I never abused that responsibility, a good few of my fellow employees in security, engineering, cabana club, food and beverage, and, yes, even management, would, on occasion, ask if I could and would save or hold a ticket or two for them so that that person could bring his or her wife or husband to one of the events. (No, Sammy and Frank never performed gratuitously for the guests!)
Being able to give the folks comp tickets really was a pleasure, and, of course, they, in return, were always not only welcoming but warmly gracious about “returning the favor,” hence I was always welcome to play pool at the bowling lanes in the indoor pool, or to visit—and have items printed—the print shop to see my friends, Barbara and Ed Vandermark. Jack Lee, the tall, stately gentleman who controlled entrance to the pool deck was always most gracious when I brought people in to spend the day at the cabana club.
It was a marvelous time and place for a young man to “grow up” and the experiences and learning opportunities didn’t border on but were incredibly.
Of course, handsome young devil that I was at the time, well-muscled and with a full head of jet black hair, it seems, in retrospect, that I apparently looked pretty good to the young (and, sometimes, not so young!) women of the time. Yes, I did work very hard, but, lordy, did we have fun!
One of my jobs as head counselor, program coordinator, and, eventually assistant director of entertainment was to hire the counselor and the special hosts and hostesses for the various activities and I was always careful to bring in people who I either knew well or know I could trust and among those was a terrific young fellow by the name of Oliver “Butch” Stallings.
Not only did Butch do a great job for us but he and I remained friends after I returned from Cornell and it would be he—Butch—who would, one week and one day after Thanksgiving of 1973, introduce me to a woman so stunningly beautiful that I was—well, yes, stunned! But I am jumping ahead of the story and in another chapter I will certainly share how Butch introduced us and what happened thereafter.
In the meantime, though, after that short digression, we return to the subject at hand and whether it was on the pool deck or in the hotel’s lobby or Fleur de Lis dining room or Chez Bon Bon Coffee Shop in the lower lobby, I met one lovely young woman after another. Some nights I had two dates and on more than one occasion, three!
One story, regarding one very, very sexy and beautiful girl or woman (she was 22 when I met her) bears re-telling, that, also, for another time.
After one term at 1/2SU and four terms at Suntan U (all five horrific) I was ready to give up college but it was at that propitious moment that I heard about the new program being started at Dade County Junior College, today’s Miami-Dade College. Because I was able to work out both my D C J C and my Fontainebleau schedules I spent three terms at D C J C, not only getting my first A’s and B’s (with the exception of one B in transportation at Suntan) in college but finishing my three terms with a 3.7692 average and a summer stint at Cornell’s School of Hotel Administration, a story previously recounted. We will however, bring today’s exciting discussion to a conclusion with this: On June 6, 1966 I received the incredible news that, yes, I had been accepted at Cornell and the shriek of joy that I gave out must have sounded like the scream that “Kramer” gave on the wonderful “Seinfeld” episode when he passed the kidney stone!
I don’t remember if I called Bennett or Mom first, but then I called Professors Joe Gregg and Jack Low (both, along with Mom, now of blessed memory) at DCJC, and Joe actually wept with joy, and, indeed, it was nothing but joyous and joyful to have achieved something that monumental, going on for a Bachelor’s Degree after having already spent four years in college. The great school overlooking Cayuga Lake transferred in only 39 or my 107 credits, meaning a was starting at Cornell as the equivalent of a sophomore, and, know what, I didn’t care. I had been accepted at one of America’s foremost universities, a member of the Ivy League, and at the finest school or college of Hotel Administration in the world. Nothing was going to stop me—and nothing did!
With more to come, we’ll see you next issue.
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