Episode 13 - The Sin Cities of the East - The Media Gets Wind of the Story

Episode 13 - The Sin Cities of the East - The Media Gets Wind of a Story





The Sin Cities of the East - Joined at the Hip - Ocean City and Somers Point, New Jersey

With Levon and the Hawks and Conway Twitty at Tony Marts, Johnny Caswell and Tido Mambo at Bay Shores, Mike Pedicin, Sr. at Steels Ship Bar, the Under 21 Club bringing in big name recording stars like Dean Martin and Little Stevie Wonder, singing waiters at Your Father's Mustache and the High Point on the circle, and live entertainment at most of the pubs and restaurants, Somers Point was running on all cylinders, with a good mixed crowd of young college kids, hippies and older folks filling the streets and sidewalks, especially Bay Avenue.

There were other similar scenes – Wildwood, Sea Isle City, Margate and Atlantic City all had their rock and roll scenes, and many of the bands – like Bill Haley & the Comets, the Carroll Brothers, Caswell, et al. played them all, but Somers Point really stood out in the Summer of '65 as people began to recognize that something special was happening and those who heard about it just had to check it out for themselves.

And the Christian island resort of Ocean City, New Jersey swelled to capacity, its hotels, motels, rooming houses and apartment rentals were sold out through Labor Day and college kids were sleeping in their cars and on the beach.

The 10,000 year 'round residents of Ocean City didn't mind the windfall, when their small community suddenly swelled to over 100,000 people, making money renting rooms, t-shirts, ice cream, pizza and junk jewelry. 

Mainly, it was the estimated 20,000 college students who made the most trouble, especially the hippies, parking their VW buses in one spot for three and four days at a time, playing loud music on the beach and boardwalk, sleeping on the beach, leaving piles of litter behind.

In Ocean City there was only one possible responsible official reaction – the knee jerk reactionary one - there was nothing else to do but close the beach at nights and out law playing music on the beach and boardwalk. So one of the more conservative city commissioners proudly introduced a resolution to close the beaches and parking lots to the public between the hours of 10 pm and 6 am and outlaw the playing of music on the beach and boardwalk.

The two square mile mainland city of Somers Point was more tolerant of the sudden influx of tourists and the college kids, as they had a special thirty man summer time police force – Bader's Raiders, who kept order along Bay Avenue.

People still complained about the noise, the traffic jams, the lack of parking and drunks urinating on lawns, but when they complained at City Council meetings, someone from the Somers Point Beverage Association always spoke up, saying something like, “Hey, you don't buy a home next to an airport and then complain about the airplanes.”

You can't have all this happening at the same time at the same place without people complaining, someone trying to outlaw it, and without the media getting wind of it.

The local weekly newspapers first reported the introduction of official city resolutions closing the beaches to the public at night and banning the playing of music on the beach and boardwalk, brief news reports that raised the eyebrows of the local daily news editors – who sent some new young, cub reporter to check out the scene and report back on what's really going on.

The Camden Courier Post got the scoop when it reported all about it under the headline: “Thirsty Teen Throngs Besiege Point,” with the subheading of: “Saturday Night at the Point – Youth Capitol of South Jersey – the Magic Number 21 – When Boy Meets Girl.”

Then the Philadelphia Inquirer and the afternoon daily Bulletin did major news stories and the New York Times chimed in, “A New Look Slowly Comes to the Jersey Shore – Some Abrupt and Flamboyant.”

Then, to top it off, the notoriety of the scene and the situation went national when Life Magazine made it a photo-featured cover story that proclaimed Ocean City and Somers Point, New Jersey joined at the hip as the “Sin Cities of the East,” making it an even more popular destination for those who wanted to partake in the sinning or just gawk at the side shows and tell their kids, “See, this is what you can't ever do,” but still finding amusement at it all.

The new producers at the Philadelphia offices of KYW TV News also took notice of these media reports and began talking about it. KYW was the newest of three broadcast network affiliated TV stations in Philadelphia at the time, and they wanted to make a splash, so they put together a documentary film crew they called the Investigative Unit that won journalism awards for reports on nursing home abuse, insurance fraud and mob controlled unions. Now they were looking for a new assignment and they knew their boss didn't have one ready for them.

So the lead field director, David Brenner, a local South Philly boy, held up the newspaper clips in one hand and the Life Magazine in the other and made the pitch to his boss, saying, “This is a great story! The college kids take over, the officials want to outlaw music and close the beaches. Jesus Christ! We couldn't make this shit up and get people to believe it.”

David Brenner

“Okay, okay,” said the senior executive producer, “but I don't want to just repeat this crap about everybody having such a good time and the music and dancing and beach blanket bingo. I want a story, a real story, and from all this noise we're getting, there's got to be a good story down there somewhere. But you don't have it yet and you got to dig in the sand to get it, but don't come back with the same junk the Inky put out.”

David Brenner slapped his hands, shook the hands of the executive producer, kissed him on both cheeks and promised him a good story, then as he got to the office door, stopped and turned around, "Correct that - we'll get a GREAT – G-R-E-A-T- Story,” he spelled out, almost dancing out the door.

Walking across the KYW newsroom, he walked into a small conference room where there were three people waiting for him – two young men and young women, Brenner's secretary-girl Friday, Tom Snyder, the on air reporter and the cameraman-technician who made up Brenner's Investigative Unit crew. 

“We're going to the Shore,” Brenner said smiling, “We're going to the Jersey Shore!”

“Hot damn,” the cameraman said, “I was getting tired of these nursing home and mob shit stories. Maybe we can finally have some fun in the sun.”

“I don't know how much sun I can take,” Snyder said shyly and dryly, “or how much of your fun I can take."

Tom Snyder - Circa 1965

Brenner slapped Snyder with a towel, put him in a head lock and began screwing his fist into the top of Snyder's head giving him a hard nuggie while laughing and looking at the others, “Do you think he's serious or not? I can't tell sometimes.”

“The bad news is,” the secretary paused for effect, “the bad news is there are no rooms available for anywhere within 20 miles of Ocean City, - it's booked solid.”

“But the good news is,” she smiled, “my parents have a summer home in Ocean City and they said we can stay there, though somebody might have to sleep on the couch.”

Everybody looked at Tom Snyder and laughed.

“No, I'll take the couch,” the cameraman said, swinging a pack of electronic gear over his shoulder. 

They then left immediately, over Snyder's protests, without packing. 

"I'll buy you a t-shirt and bathing suit on the boardwalk - that's all you'll need," Brenner said, noting that with a thousand dollars in cash budget, and not needing to rent a motel room, they had plenty of money for accessories. 

So David Brenner, his secretary, cameraman and Tom Snyder piled into a white KWY van, packed with broadcast equipment and headed down the shore, not knowing exactly what their story was going to be but with high anticipation and the expectation that whatever happened, it was going to be a really good, check - make that great time.

And yes, it is David Brenner the comedian who was an award winning documentary film producer for KYW TV before he became a famous celebrity, and yes, it is Tom Snyder the talk show host, who was a rookie, first year street reporter at KYW TV when he accompanied David Brenner to find a story in Ocean City – Somers Point scene. .

The Long Cool Summer was the title of their one hour long documentary film aired on KYW TV 3 a week after Labor Day that reportedly won additional awards for them, and is said to be stored and archived in a cold storage vault in the media library at the Urban Archives at Temple University in Philadelphia. It could provide an actual documentary film footage of all that then transpired.

David Brenner once related the story of what happened on that assignment to Johnny Carson on one of his appearances on the Tonight Show, and later fondly reminisced about it with Tom Snyder on his late night talk show, which was humorously pantomimed by Dan Akyroid on Saturday Night Live.

Next – Opening Bay Shores - Flashback #232 - That was to be the end of Act One – but then I had this flashback that clearly chronologically belongs after the Prologue murder of Harry Anglemeyer and the introduction to Ocean City's Ninth Street the beach and boardwalk, but since I just remembered this part - I'll tag it on here like a Pulp Fictionesque interlude that makes the rest of the story make more sense once you know it.

END of ACT ONE – The Summer of '65 Revisited.

Coming Soon – Act Two – The Long Cool Summer Plays Out

Episode 12 Conway Returns to Tony Marts and the Second Coming of Tito Mambo

The Summer of '65 Revisited Episode 11 
Conway Returns to Tony Marts and the Second Coming of Tito Mambo


 



















After a two weeks tour elsewhere the return of Conway Twitty to the Point was much anticipated by his fans, as well as the Hawks.

 

Conway Twitty - Circa 1965

The Hawks were anxious to see Twitty again, as they knew him from various crossroads down south from their years with Ronnie Hawkins, and knew he recorded at Sun Studios with Elvis, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins. Levon said he remembered Conway as a former neighbor in Helina, Arkansas, when he was known as Harold Lloyd Jenkins.

The Hawks didn’t like losing the main stage but they knew Conway deserved it because of his seniority and popularity.

The Hawks were playing when Conway Twitty entered the room so they didn’t get a chance to greet him. Twitty knew the routine, and was on the main stage and ready to take over as the Hawks wound down their first set of the night on the side stage.

There was some anxiety among the bartenders and Anthony Marotta, sitting at the small raised bar against the back wall, quietly smoking his cigar, who knew Twitty was at a crossroads in his career and wanted to play country and western music, not the type of thing they wanted to hear at Tony Marts at the moment.
Would Conway play what he wanted? Would he do his country and western act that his fans drooled over? Or would he do the Elvis rock and roll that the College Kids preferred and what Tony wanted him to play?

“Hello Darlin’” made Tony winch, and then after a number of slow whining country ballads – “Goodbye Time,” “Linda On My Mind,” “Look Into My Teardrops” and “The Fire Is Gone,” that could make a man cry in his beer, Conway began the Irish sad song, “Danny Boy,” – “the pipes, the pipes are calling,…” and the bartenders looked at Tony to see if he was going to give Conway the hook and pull the plug. But he didn’t, so they just looked at each other across the room and shrugged, as some of the College Kids began to chug their drinks and walk out, heading across the street to see Tido Mambo at Bay Shores.

Conway Twitty was singing the song in the slow, dry traditional Irish manner – “Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes the pipes are call-lling, from glen to glen,….,.” and some of his fans and a few of the college kids started to slow dance to the tune, but half-way through the song, with the drummer taking the lead, the beat suddenly switched from the melancholy tune everyone knew to an upbeat – highly danceable rocking melody that made everyone smile, applaud and get up and dance and suddenly the place went wild.

Conway smiled at Tony, - he was just busting his balls, and then he kicked in with what they called his “Elvis Set,” – even though Elvis just made some of them famous, songs like, “Shake, Rattle, and Roll,” “Hound Dog,” “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On,” “Reelin’ And Rockin’” and “Got My Mojo Working.”

Conway had the room under control, Tony Mart was happy and all was well with the world.

 

Meanwhile, across Bay Avenue, a long, black hearse pulled into the Bay Shores parking lot and pulled up to the front door, followed by a crowd of hippies. Six men took a black wood coffin out of the back and hoisting it up on their shoulders, carried it in the front door to the applause of the generally young and hip
 crowd.

Carried in the casket by his band – the well named Upsetters, Tito Mambo had strong support from the hippies, who followed them like rats and the kids in the Pied Piper of Hamlin to a New Orleans funeral like dry dirge music that was pumped into the sound system.

They set the coffin down on the stage and picked up instruments and began to tune up as the coffin lid opened slowly and the head of Tito Mambo appeared as if he was Lazarus    rising from the dead. Dressed like Jesus Christ with long hair and a beard, white robe and sandals, he picked up an battered white 1957 Les Paul Stratocaster and began to hit some high notes, made some wa-wa noise and then blasted the electric guitar like Jimmie Hendrix, except it was just loud noise, much to the amusement of the bewildered crowd.

As the first hippie to take the stage at the Point, Tito Mambo had the hip crowd in his pocket, and was slowly garnering the attention of the young college kids, and even a few of the older crowd thought the whole act somewhat humorous, but wasn’t really music. Except once he got going, Tido Mambo sat down at the piano and began to swing. His band was really very good, and after pumping out a lot of noise, really got down and put out the kind of rock and roll that the young crowd liked to dance to.

 

Johnny Caswell, the other band at Bay Shores, was a bit perplexed by the whole thing, and just sat back and shook his head. Caswell was old school, but his band was younger and they were falling for the Tito Mambo shtick, and after hours started hanging out with the Upsetters, getting stoned and doing some of the experimental drugs they had – mushrooms, coke and meth – crystal meth they got from the bikers. Eventually Caswell’s band would change their name to the Crystal Mansion, after the farm they rented out on Mays Landing road.

While Conway Twitty and Levon and the Hawks were what Anthony Marotta called “the last of the gentlemen,” - the straight, old school bands who wore stage outfits when they performed, Tito Mambo was the first of what he called the “animals,” who took over rock & roll, and it was never the same again.

Before the end of the summer other hip bands in jeans and t-shirts came in to Bay Shores – the Magic Mushrooms and the Monkey Men – bikers who rode chopper motorcycles with high handles – what they called “monkey bars” because the rider looked like a monkey hanging from the branch of a tree.

On this night however, at the end of his last set, Tito Mambo – in his Jesus Christ mode – made an announcement – on Saturday afternoon of Labor Day weekend he would perform three miracles – not only rise from the dead, he would turn water in wine and walk on water at the Ninth Street beach in Ocean City.

Coming Next: The Summer of '65 Revisited - Episode 13 - The Media Gets Wind of the Story

Episode 11 - The Chatterbox - Ninth Street Scene and Seaview Party

Episode 11 – The Chatterbox and Ninth Street Scene and the Party at the Seaview

Ninth Street and Central Avenue was like Grand Central station in downtown Ocean City when Petula Clark's “Downtown” song was a hit on the charts in the Summer of '65.

There was a take-out only hot dog and ice cream stand on the Southwest corner, the Galley Sub shop across the street, the Greek joint popular with the hippies and the Chatterbox, which was Ground Zero of the teenage social scene.

The Chatterbox soda fountain and grill had been there for some thirty years and had a storied history even then, still run by the same family and was pretty much the same in '65 as it was when it opened in the 1930's, not like it is today. Before they remodeled it - around 1969, the “Box” had a big stainless steel and formica soda fountain that ran along the west wall, similar but bigger than the one at Ready's Coffee shop on 8^th street that's still there.

There was a juke box, a dime a song, three for a quarter, and maroon and white vinyl seat and formica booths against the other walls, booths that were moved to the Varsity Inn when it relocated from the 14^th Street boardwalk to 8^th Street at the same time they renovated the Chatterbox.

The Chatterbox, where both of  the mayor's daughters worked, was famous for its celebrity alumni, as a number of former employees went on to fame and fortune, including Grace Kelly – Princess Grace of Monaco, popular TV commentator Chris Mathews, and Pittsburgh history professor Donald Goldstein, best selling author of Pearl Harbor books including “At Dawn We Slept.” Both Goldstein in the fifties, and Mathews, in the sixties, flipped burgers on the Chatterbox grill when they were still in college, with Mathews also working at Watsons and nights as a singing waiter at Your Father's Mustache bar in Somers Point.

Even after she became a famous movie star and then a princess, Grace Kelly always came back to Ocean City every Labor Day weekend to be with her family. Sometime while she was in town she would bring her kids to the Chatterbox for lunch and a ice cream float, play the juke box and fraternize with the waitresses like she was just another shoebee.

This year however, word on Ninth Street was that Grace Kelly's husband, his royal highness the Prince of Monaco, would accompany her, and bring all of the international rigamorale that came with him. It would not be a normal Labor Day with the Prince in town and the Barbarians on the way.

In the Summer of '65 most of the high school and college kids who worked as waiters, waitresses, short order cooks, pizza makers and retail clerks either lived with their parents, in a group rental house or apartment, or in one of the cheap hotel rooms at the Biscayne, the Strand with its large wrap around porch, or the Lincoln, next door to the Chatterbox.

The five story wood clapboard Lincoln Hotel was pretty quiet most of the year, its conference room a comfortable and secluded enough for the members of the private, members only Riverboat Club to meet at noon for lunch each weekday.

While Ocean City was technically and officially a dry town, its blue laws forbidding the sale of liquor, there were some private clubs like the VFW, American Legion, Elks, there was even a black Elks club on the West Side, and the Riverboat Club, a lose confederation of local Ocean City businessmen who enjoyed having a drink of beer or wine with their lunch. So they met every weekday afternoon at noon and had food catered over from the Chatterbox or Watsons, and ordered a shipment of beer, wine and booze that was delivered in a white van from DiOrio's Circle Cafe in Somers Point. Three trips daily, one in the morning, one at noon and another at six, the Lincoln Hotel was the first stop.

There wasn't a problem in the spring and fall but after late May, when the college kids hit town, they occupied all of the 2^nd floor rooms around the Riverboat's conference room and they drank beer by the case and kegs on weekends, and blocked the halls with their bicycles, surfboards and skateboards, and on the whole, provided a stark contrast to the straight, suit and tie businessmen of the Riverboat Club.

The College Kids formed their own clique and called themselves the “River Rats” to mock the RiverBoaters, but they all tried to get along.

Both camps enjoyed drinking however, and the college kids were surprised but happy to learn from the Riverboaters that they didn't have to drive over the causeway to the Point to buy more beer, but could just pick up the phone and call Joe at DiOrios and get on the shipment list for one of the three deliveries of the day.

Eventually the Riverboat Clubers would get tired of the College Kids and their silly antics and move into more permanent quarters in the big old rooming house on the southwest corner of 8^th and Wesley, where it is today.

But in the summer of '65 the Riverboat Club was still meeting at the Lincoln Hotel, and putting up with the college kids. The ranks of the Riverboat Club included the Mayor, Bob Harbough of Bob's Grill, Roger Monroe the bookstore owner and Michael Rozet, who owned a hip cheese shop that was wedged between the Chatterbox and the Lincoln Hotel. Rozet was friends, and later business partners with Bill Hamilton, an Ocean City high school teacher who also owned the Rock Box record shop on Asbury Avenue, and coached soccer and taught a summer school literature class.

Harry Anglemeyer was a member of the Riverboat Club, until he was murdered, and the other members of the club tried to keep up with the latest developments in the case, but after awhile, they stopped talking about it.

On this particular mid-week afternoon in late July 1965, as the Riverboat Club met for lunch at the conference room of the Lincoln Hotel, surrounded by a motley crew of River Rat college kids, most of the Chatterbox waitresses piled into a couple of cars to go to the Seaview Country Club on the mainland for a surprise 18^th birthday party for the eldest of the mayor's daughters.

The mayor had learned, from Elwood Kirkman, that John B. Kelly had a special Sweet Sixteen birthday party for his daughter Grace in the Rainbow Room at the Seaview, so he arranged for a similar party for his daughter Kate, a move he would come to regret.

The exact circumstances are a bit blurry today, but from what can be pieced together from those who were there, a dozen or so teenage girls had lunch in the Rainbow Room, played some popular 45 rpm records on a little square record player and were dancing among themselves when they heard, from a busboy cleaning the tables, that the Rolling Stones were guests at the hotel. In fact, it was Mick Jagger's birthday too! And at that very moment Keith Richards was throwing a birthday party for Mick downstairs in the basement Game Room.

Katie was led downstairs by the bus boy, and introduced herself to Mick and told him it was her birthday too, and asked him if he would come up and meet the girls at her party upstairs.

When Duncan, who drove some of the girls to the party, checked in the Rainbow Room, he found a group of giggling girls standing around Mick Jagger.

“Is that Mick Jagger?” he asked a passing waiter.

“Yes, sir it is,” came the reply, and Duncan rolled his eyes and walked over to the lobby bar and ordered a rare shot of whiskey and sat down.

It later came out – you couldn't keep such a thing secret, it later came out that Mick invited the girls downstairs to his party, and so as not to cause suspicion, one by one the girls meandared down the steps to the game room where they played pinball and pool, drank beer and smoked cigarettes and pot with the Rolling Stones.

The mayor's daughters thought that was the greatest thing after a Bay Shores rainy day matinee, and knew they were going to be grounded for the rest of the summer, but were quite surprised at their father's reaction.

They were in the other room and could hear him talking with Mister Kirkman, yelling at Kirkman - “How could you let my daughters, and the daughters of my best friends drink and smoke pot with the Rolling Stones!?”

They couldn't hear Kirkman's excuse or what he said, but in the end, in no uncertain terms, could either of them leave the house on Labor Day weekend. The party they had planned was off, and they couldn't leave the house.

And they knew why. It wasn't because they partied with the Rolling Stones at the Seaview, it was because the Barbarians were coming, and the mayor didn't want them out on the streets when the bikers were raping and pillaging the town.

Next : Episode 12 Conway Twitty Returns as King of the Point -