The Jerry Lewis Telethon - 1964

This was posted in 2010 during the Labor Day Weekend, which has always made me think of Jerry Lewis and his Telethon for Muscular Dystrophy. I’m probably not alone in this, as most of us baby boomers were raised with the TV on and our families tuning in to the show; if only to see how much money was coming in.

So, this is my memory of the telethon’s history and the tear my family actually participated; collected money and brought it to the hotel in Manhattan where the telethon was being held. It was pretty exciting stuff to a 10 year old.

I remember when the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon was a local, one station affair broadcast from the Americana Hotel in New York City. This year is being touted as the 45th Annual Telethon, but I can tell you that this is incorrect.

The telethon began in 1956, with Jerry Lewis and his partner, Dean Martin, hosting a show on WNEW-TV in New York. They raised $600,000 to benefit the newly found Muscular Dystrophy Association of America. Again in 1957 and 1959, Jerry did two more shows, which he began calling “telethons.” These were the days when TV actually went off the air at about 1 or 2 in the morning, so the telethon was a huge event. I remember getting up in the middle of the night to see if it was really still on! And upon waking in the morning it was the first thing I checked.

Another aspect of those early telethons, which I found fascinating, was that at night pledges came in from faraway places such as Connecticut and even Philadelphia! The TV signal during the daylight hours was very short range, but at night I could pick up Channel 3 in Philadelphia. I suppose they had discovered the same thing about signals from New York.

When I was 10; and this would be 1964; my parents, along with my brother and I, collected for MDA and then went to the Americana to join in the long line waiting to dump their donations in the big carts that were set up inside the hotel hallway on the ground floor. I believe it was just outside the doors to the space that was being used for the Telethon. The 1966 Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon was the first to be held on Labor Day weekend and the first to raise more than $1 million.

The Telethon has grown larger over the years. I believe the 1966 date for today's so-called 45th Telethon represents the date of the first broadcast from New York that was linked to other cities, like Philadelphia. Eventually the Telethon left WNEW in New York for WOR-TV and then finally moved to Las Vegas. But nothing will ever compare to the close knit feeling of those first few years when one little station in New York gave birth to this annual event.

"Killing the Poormaster" by Holly Metz (2012)

They say to never choose a book by its cover – but with a cover like this – how could you not? Looking at the photo doesn’t evoke anything other than sympathy for the guy in handcuffs. Without any foreknowledge of who he is; and what he may have done; this photo is a stark depiction of everyone’s worst fear; that of being shackled and in the “custody” of the state. Of course, the man in the photo may be a monster; accused of some unspeakable crime; which changes the perception of the photo, leaving the viewer with a sense of safety, and comfort. But, not this one.

Joe Scutellaro is the man in custody of the Hoboken Police in the photo above, taken after his arraignment in February 1938 for the murder of the city’s “Poormaster”, and perhaps that title itself is a good place to begin this review. Whoever thought of that title for the position of dealing with the underprivileged, clearly had no sense of the shame felt by ordinary people, who, through economic circumstance, were forced to turn to their government for help. In fact, the term probably kept many from ever setting foot in the doorway of the “Poormaster’s” office to begin with.

In 1938 the nation was still reeling from the effects of the Great Depression. It had been almost 9 years since the “crash” which became known as Black Tuesday, when rich men hurled themselves from the windows of their offices on Wall Street as they saw their life’s fortunes disappear in an instant. (Actually there were only one or two of those, but it was a dramatic flourish which I couldn’t resist.) On the other end of the scale were men like Joe Scutellaro, the hard working son of an Italian immigrant in Hoboken, New Jersey. The author briefly gives a history of the city and how it became the corrupt and raw place it was at the time of the murder.

From its beginnings, when it was dominated by Germans, through to the power shift that came with the influx of the Irish in the mid-19^th century, Ms. Metz paints a very vivid picture of what life was like for the working-poor. Some were skilled workers and flourished; while others worked at whatever they could; essentially living off the scraps of the more fortunate. When the Depression came along, the poor were hit the hardest, as the state abolished its direct relief programs in 1936, which placed the burden for this function upon the already cash starved local cities and towns throughout the state. In places where corruption had already flourished before the Great Depression, any relief money was quickly gobbled up by local political machines and their cronies.

One of these men was Harry Barck, a man so cruel and entrenched in the “machine” of Hoboken politics, that he actually asked Joe Scutellaro if his wife was not above “swinging her purse down on Washington Street” the week before his murder. That remark alone, delivered when Mr. Scutellaro came to Barck’s office to apply, again; for aid which amounted to about $5.70 for a family of 4 for 2 weeks; would have been enough to send any man into a rage. Yet, Mr. Scutellaro was so beaten down by the system at this point, that he did nothing.

After another week had passed by, Joe again appeared at the office to inquire of Mr. Barck about his relief check. After waiting for several hours he was again insulted and told to go “check the mail”, a common tactic of the “Poormaster” when dealing with his “clients.” At that moment, all of the rage pent up in Joe Scutellaro burst forth, and he struck the Poormaster, sending him reeling. When he momentarily recovered enough to stagger towards the door, Joe saw something sticking from his chest, which he removed and tossed to the floor. It was one of those metal spikes which people used to use as a way of temporarily filing papers on their desktops. Apparently, Mr. Barck had fallen against it when Joe struck him. Barck died of his wound, and Joe was charged with murder.

The chief witness was Eleonore Hartmann, who changed her story several times in order to cover up what she hadn’t seen, even after giving a statement to the police on the day of the murder. In that statement she claimed to have seen Joe commit the crime. Apparently she didn’t really see the crime itself; only the aftermath and her conclusion form what she did see; which served as her statement.

Joe’s counsel was the celebrated criminal defense attorney Samuel Leibowitz, of the famous “Scottsboro Boys” trial. In that case, 9 young African-Americans stood accused of raping 2 white women, facing the death penalty. Leibowitz; as in all his trials; won their acquittal. Could he do the same for Joe Scutellaro?

With a keen eye to history, as well as an aptitude which enables the reader to contrast the issues of the Great Depression with the same social ills of today, the author has created a portrait of an era long gone, but looming ever closer to a return as the struggle between the very wealthy and the working poor continues, unabated. This is a very compelling, and informative book.

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 Patti Page - "The Tennessee Waltz"

 

This is one of the first records I ever heard. Along with “How Much Is that Doggie in the Window”, and “Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief” by Betty Hutton, and many other 78 RPM recordings which colored my early years. This one really got to me at the age of about 4 years old. I remember putting the record on and watching it going round and round, marveling at the voice. In this version from TV, Ms. Page is singing on her own.

 

The recorded version was double tracked, which was a signature of Ms. Page’s works. The double tracking stemmed from her not having enough money to hire additional backup singers; and although overdubbing had been done before by other artists, Ms. Page brought the practice to the forefront; influencing the sounds of the 1950’s; as well as the 1960’s.

Ms. Page passed away yesterday, on New Years Day;  leaving us a legacy of wonderful music; for which she received, in turn, the love of a 4 year old boy who was captivated by her many years ago. RIP Patti...

 

"Boys Town" with Spencer Tracy, Mickey Rooney and Henry Hull (1938)

Spencer Tracy became the first actor to win 2 consecutive Academy Awards for Best Actor when he mouthed the line, "There is no bad boy", in this moving, and somewhat rose colored account of the founding of Boys Town, just outside of Omaha, Nebraska.

When Father Flanagan, played by Tracy, visits a death row inmate he is told that if the man had only been befriended as a child, mentored in some way, his life would have turned out differently. His only concern now is for his kid brother, "Whitey" Marsh, played by Mickey Rooney. He wants Father Flanagan to go and see him, to take him under his wing and save him from a life of crime. This is a burden which he readily accepts.

Father Flanagan also has his hands full in his local Parish, where the children are largely neglected and left to their own devices. Most are poor, working class kids with severe family problems at home. Some are abused, some merely neglected. He has a dream to someday build a home for these boys, removing them from the temptations of the street, and a life of crime.

Beginning with a rundown rented house, the Father manages to obtain much of what he needs from the local town store manager, Dave Morris, played by Henry Hull. Although it is not specifically mentioned, Mr. Morris seems to be Jewish. How Father Flanagan gets him to become involved in the eventual financing of Boy's Town makes the story that much better. Though skeptical at the beginning, Mr. Morris backs Father Flanagan all the way, eventually securing 3 mortgages for the construction of the actual Boy's Town, on 200 acres of land, just outside of Omaha. The boys actually help to build the school and dormitories, each one learning a trade as the construction progresses.

When "Whitey" Marsh arrives at Boy's Town, he has nothing on his mind except escape. But with no prison walls, or fences, to keep him in, he is confused. He begins to come around to a new way of thinking. But, after bonding with the school's mascot, a little boy named Pee Wee, played by Bobs Watson, he runs away. When he becomes involved with his older brother, and a foiled bank robbery, his actions place Boy's Town in jeopardy. Through the guidance of Father Flanagan, Whitey is able to see reason and returns to Boy's Town, where he is elected Mayor by the other boys and becomes a mentor to little Pee Wee.

So many of these older films espouse a message of tolerance and religious diversity which is lacking today; even while portraying the Jewish pawnbroker, Henry Hull does so in a way that lends dignity to his faith. And as Father Flanagan, Spencer Tracy is the penultimate Priest, the one who understands that our differences unite, rather than divide us as individuals. The mess hall scene, in which all the boys of different faiths say grace in their own way, is, for me, one of the highlights of the film. Based loosely on the actual story of Boys Town, this is a real "feel good" movie for these troubled times.