Tuesday, December 1, 2020

THE VILLA VENICE - Albert "Papa" Bouche' - Revisited

In May of 2015 I told the story of Albert "Papa" Bouche', the owner and founder of the Villa Venice restaurant and nightclub in Wheeling, Illinois. At that time I was able to find only two side-view photos of Papa Bouche', and included them with my story.  This was very frustrating to me.  I thought that with someone as well-known as Papa Bouche' was to Chicagoans, I should have been able to find lots of photos of him.  Recently I found a dealer of old photographs who had seven different photos of Papa Bouche' and I was so excited I bought them all.  In addition to the photos I have found other items of interest about Papa Bouche' or the Villa Venice itself.  So for this month's submission I have decided to rewrite the 2015 story and add the photos and other materials I have found since then.  But before we start that, let me begin with a very nice full face photo of Albert "Papa" Bouche':

Albert "Papa" Bouche' (1881-1964)

The public television station in Chicago sometimes runs a program called "Chicago Time Machine."  It's sort of like this blog on TV.  The host stands before a spot in Chicagoland today, and the tells you what happened there years ago - along with photos of the way it used to look.  One rainy Sunday afternoon I stumbled on an episode of Chicago Time Machine and I thought, "Now that's my kind of TV show," so I sat down to watch.

After several stories the host stood in front of a chain hotel in Wheeling, Illinois and started to tell the story of the Villa Venice restaurant and nightclub which stood on that spot from its opening in 1924 until it burned to the ground in 1967.  The host said, "The Villa Venice was owned and operated by a character called "Papa" Bouche."  He then went on to talk about the time the "Rat Pack" appeared at the Villa Venice, and  of it's mob connections, all of which happened after Papa Bouche sold the Villa Venice in 1956.   

The Villa Venice was before my time, but my parents used to fondly reminisce about evenings at the Villa Venice - and saved their most effusive praise for Papa Bouche himself, and what a wonderful host he was.  After hearing the Chicago Time Machine refer sneeringly to "a character called Papa Bouche" I decided to see what I could dig up about him and tell his story in this blog.  So sit back and I'll tell you the story of magical nights in Wheeling, Illinois and gondola rides on the Des Plaines River.

When digging into someone's background you usually discover interesting facts about them and this is certainly the case with Papa Bouche.  So many interesting tales surround the life and times of Papa Bouche (many of them pure fiction) that it is difficult to separate the fiction from the true facts, but I will try.  

Albert Bouche was born Abram Laurin on January 13, 1881 (some sources say 1882 - he used both dates) in Celano, Arbuzzo, Italy.  When he applied for a tourist visa to Rio de Janiero, Brazil in 1940 he first said his parents were "Antonio Bouche and Benedetta Leonardi."  This could not be verified so he "revised" his application to say his parents' names were "Antonio and Benedetta Laurini."  We don't know much about any siblings he may have had.  Different sources mention brothers named Hugo, Augusto and Guido Laurini and one (possibly two) sisters. 

Abram Laurin came to the United States from Italy for the first time on August 29, 1901 a the age of twenty.   We don't know how long he stayed in the US on this trip, but we do know that he came back to the US on July 30, 1906.  At that time he reported his name as "Abramo Laurini" and his occupation as "Cook."  He was coming to live with his brother Augusto who lived at 1091 East 182nd Street in New York City.  Abramo said that he had been in the US once before - for a "Job" in 1901.

Interestingly his obituary in the Fort Lauderdale News said:

Bouche was born in Nice, France.  His father was French and his mother was Italian.  He came to the United States in 1920, working as an interpreter in five languages." 

Sometime after his arrival in the US in 1906, Abram Laurin changed his name to Albert Bouche'. History does not record why Abram changed his name, but he may have thought that the more exotic name of Albert Bouche' sounded better for a restaurateur.  After all, "bouche" is the French word for "mouth," so what better name for a restauranteur?  The newly named Albert Bouche settled in Rochester, New York, and the story is that he became not a restaurateur, but a policeman for the City of Rochester. (Note: Through the years Albert spelled his last name sometimes as "Bouche' " with the accent over the last "e", and sometimes as just "Bouche" without the accent.  For ease of typing, for the remainder of this story I will not use the accent unless the primary source uses it.)  Newspapers said his last name was pronounced "boo-shay." 

Papa Bouche was interviewed many times over the years and his reminiscences often varied from telling to telling.  In a 1959 interview he said that "I opened my first nightclub in Rochester, N.Y. in 1907."  I was not able to find any evidence of this.

There is no record of either Abram Laurin or Albert Bouche on the 1910 US Census but it was about that time that Albert made two life-altering decisions:  he got married, and he moved to Chicago.

For his bride he chose Flora Marseilles - a divorcee with a young daughter.  We'll let the new Mrs. Bouche tell the story in her own words:

"My maiden name was Flora Marseilles," she said.  "I met my first husband (Joseph) DeRepentigny, while I was attending the Notre Dame Convent in Montreal.  He forced my to elope with him to Rochester, New York, where the child (Marguerite Carmen DeRepentigny) was born. Subsequently Albert Bouche, who was then a policeman in Rochester came into my life.  I married him, and we moved to Chicago."

In fact, the first two times the name "Albert Bouche" was in the Chicago newspapers it had to do with his wife and step-daughter.  On September 3, 1912 the Chicago Tribune reported that a man named Joseph Milora tried to commit suicide because Flora would not leave Albert and marry him.

One year later on September 13, 1913 their names were in the Tribune again.  This time, Joseph DeRepentigny tried to kidnap ten year old Marguerite as she left Holy Name Cathedral Academy in Chicago. Luckily there were witnesses around, and within a short time DeRepentigny and his accomplice were captured and the girl (whom the Tribune called Marguerite Bouche) was reunited with her mother and step-father, who the Tribune called "a good French cook."

The Tribune did report that Albert Bouche was the proprietor of the Cafe Belvidere at 868 N. Clark at Chestnut Streets.  A parking lot occupies that space today.

In 1915 it was reported that Albert Bouche had donated $27.50 to the fund established for survivors of the Eastland tragedy.

The next time Albert Bouche's name was in the Chicago Tribune was on January 15, 1917, when the newspaper was reporting Bouche's arrest for refusing to observe Chicago's "Sunday Closing Rule" where restaurants could not serve liquor on Sundays.  There was a new police chief in town named Herman Schuettler and he was determined to enforce the "no liquor sold on Sunday" law.  On January 14, 1917, using eight teams of one policeman and one policewoman, Schuettler managed to close twenty-two "saloons, cafes and restaurants" and arrest their owners, bartenders, and sometimes even their waiters. Albert Bouche was among this unlucky group.  There was no further publicity about his arrest, so Bouche probably paid the fine and that was it.

On April 19, 1917 Abram Laurin, aka Albert Bouche applied for US citizenship - and was rejected - probably due to his police record.  In fact, Albert Bouche did not become a naturalized US citizen until 1926.  

On May 27, 1917 the Chicago Tribune announced that Albert Bouche was opening a new "summer restaurant" at Clark and Lawrence in Chicago at the site of the old Rainbo Gardens.  He called it the Moulin Rouge Gardens in remembrance of the time he worked as a chef (he said) at the Moulin Rouge in Paris.  Albert Bouche sold the Moulin Rouge Gardens in 1921 in preparation for bigger ventures.

First off, he bought a parcel of land on the Des Plaines River in Wheeling and built a roadhouse he named "The House That Jack Built."  It was on Milwaukee Avenue where it crosses the river.

The House That Jack Built - Wheeling, Illinois

Then he sold the Moulin Rouge summer restaurant and instead opened the Moulin Rouge all-year-round restaurant at 416 S. Wabash in Chicago.  416 S. Wabash is also a parking lot today.


Like everyone else, Papa Bouche caught "King Tut Fever" after the tomb of the famous boy-king was discovered.  This is from the Chicago Tribune of March 7, 1923:


Do we think there is anyone left (other than Steve Martin) who can perform the Tut Ankh Amen dance???

The Real Estate page of the Chicago Tribune of April 6, 1924 carried the following item:

The 1920s were good for people, and good for Albert Bouche.  People had a lot of money to spend and they liked to go out to dinner or even better, dinner and a show.  Albert Bouche already knew that "if you build it, they will come."  The Chicago Daily Tribune from June 12, 1924 announced the upcoming opening of the Villa Venice:

From the very beginning, Albert Bouche strove to make an evening at the Villa Venice an "event." He spared no expense on the exterior and interior of the restaurant and also on the shows he produced. 

He wanted the time spent at the Villa Venice to be "magical," and it was, but it was more than that. According to people I have talked to, Papa Bouche had the talent of making everyone feel that he was doing all this just for them.  He was a gracious host, greeting every guest by name if possible and went out of his way to make their evening one they would talk about for years to come. 


In the summer of 1925, Albert Bouche the showman had an idea - there were gondolas in Venice, why not gondolas at the Villa Venice? Here's the announcement from July 25, 1925:

Yes, you could actually take a gondola ride on the Des Plaines River - complete with singing gondoliers.  The gondolas Albert Bouche bought were original antique Venetian gondolas - he had to get permission from the Italian government to take them out of Italy.  Here's a view of the gondolas in the Des Plaines River and their launching point from the Villa Venice:


In 1927 Papa Bouche was looking for a combination emcee-comic for the Villa Venice.  A struggling young comic named Bob Hope auditioned for the job.  "Sorry, you won't do, but have a steak on me," Bouche recalled.      

But the Villa Venice was not the only one of Papa Bouche's ventures in the 1920s.  Sick of Prohibition, in May of 1920 he announced he was opening a new restaurant in Montreal, Canada in the Wilder Building called "The Blue Bird Cafe."


Here is a photo of the Wilder Building before its 2017 renovation:


The Wilder Building, Montreal

In 1929 Papa Bouche decided to try warmer climes for his next restaurant:  The Hotel Antilla Restaurant and Supper Club in Coral Gables, Florida:



(Note:  I live in Wheeling - I have never heard of it referred to as "Near Lake Forest, Ill."  I think I will start to give my address as "Near Lake Forest, Ill.")

PS - the Villa Venice was nowhere near Lake Forest, Illinois.

Bouche related years later that he was proud of the fact that his restaurant was the only place in the area where diners had to wear formal dress to be admitted.

Reviews for the food and entertainment at the Antilla Hotel were very good, so in the early 1930s, Albert Bouche decided to open another Florida venue.  This time he opened a second Villa Venice in Miami Beach, Florida, in the former Ocean Drive Casino.  Here's the announcement of the opening from January 12, 1930:


Here's a program from the Villa Venice in Illinois from 1933.  It will give you a good idea of what a night at Papa Bouche's meant:





Three shows each night - the first at nine, the second at midnight and the third at 2:45 a.m.!  And the midnight show was different from the other two and you were invited to stay!  Boy, those days are gone forever...

Here are color photos of two of the dining rooms at the Villa Venice:


Papa Bouche may have let Bob Hope slip through his fingers, but not so with noted fan dancer Sally Rand, who he hired in the early 1930s to perform her exotic dance at the Villa Venice.

Here is a full page ad for the Villa Venice from the Chicago Sunday Tribune of July 22, 1934:


You can't tell from the picture above, but this was the first full-page color ad ever run in the Chicago Tribune.  The color ad cost Bouche $4,000.00 ($77,891.00 in today's dollars).

Papa Bouche's restaurants may have been very successful, but his marriage was not.  He had married Flora back in about 1910 in Rochester, New York when he was a policeman.  Now he was a noted restaurateur and showman with nightclubs and restaurants around the US and into Canada.  During those days, Papa Bouche was either working or traveling.  He was constantly back and forth to Florida to New York to Chicago to keep an eye on things, and then off to Europe, Cuba or South America hunting for new talent and new ideas for his shows. Albert and Flora's marriage was essentially over by the late 1920s, although Flora was still calling herself "Mrs. Albert Bouche" as late as 1934.  I could not find any record of a divorce, but Flora seems to disappear after the mid-1930s.

Starting about 1930, Albert picked up an interesting travelling companion.  Her name was Edna Olts (1898-1984) and she accompanied Albert on all of his overseas trips.  By the 1940s she had even moved into the Villa Venice and was openly living with Albert.  In fact, as late as 1947, travel documents were referring to her as "Edna Olts known as Edna Bouche."  They must have finally married in 1948 because it was reported that the IRS audited Bouche's return for 1946 and 1947 and "the returns of Bouche and his wife Edna" for 1948, 1949 and 1950.

As I mentioned at the beginning, when I originally wrote this article  I thought that for someone in the limelight like Papa Bouche that there would be hundreds of photos of him in existence.  the truth was, in all my research I was only able to find two - and neither one is a head-on shot.  The first one is from June of 1948 where Papa Bouche is in New York looking for 25 girls to add to his show.  It seems he had gone through all the pretty girls in Chicago:

Here's one where he's a little more "formal", and the girls are a little less...a little less...well - a little less!:

Here are the additional photos of Papa Bouche I was able to obtain, with captions (if any)




Papa Bouche with Tamar Belamy, Connie Reed and Doris Africk


The Continental Artists now appearing in Bouche's European Music Hall Revue at the Villa Venice


Papa Bouche always took great interest in the acts appearing at his clubs.  After all, his name was over the door. 

It was during this period that Papa Bouche earned the title 

"The Ziegfeld of Floor Shows"

As time went on, Albert Bouche put more time (and money) into his Florida operations.  Here is the announcement from February 2, 1933 that he had just purchased the DeSoto Hotel in Miami Beach:



The Tudor Hotel, formerly the Hotel De Soto, Miami Beach

Albert Bouche ran his Villa Venice night clubs on a seasonal basis during the 1930s.  December-April he would be in Miami Beach, and then June-September he would be in Chicago.  The seasons usually started right on schedule but the endings could change depending on how business was going.  During the down periods he would travel extensively searching for and auditioning new acts for his nightclubs.  Bouche traveled all over the world, but his favorite touring spot in the 1930s was to Havana, Cuba.  Many of his acts originated there when Havana was the sun and fun capital of the Caribbean. 

When Papa Bouche was on one of his scouting tours, as soon as he arrived in a city he started running ads in the local newspapers:



and then his phone would ring off the hook as girls from all over made appointments to audition for Papa Bouche.

In the 1940s, Albert Bouche started referring to himself in his advertisements as:

ALBERT BOUCHE

"PAPA" of all nite clubs 

In 1942 the government took over Papa Bouche's Villa Venice in Miami Beach for an Air Force school, so he went northward, buying the Club Boehme in Hallandale, Florida:


We can find out a little more about Papa Bouche's family by looking at this obituary from the Rochester (NY) Register and Chronicle from December 6, 1943:

SUAREZ - Violet of 302 Smith St., after a short illness.  She leaves to mourn her loss, two children, Mrs. Joseph Castelano and Azio Suarez; also three grandchildren; three brothers, Albert Bouche, Ugo Laurini of Chicago, Ill., and Guido Laurini of Rochester; one sister Mrs. Orienda Pauline of Italy.

Friends may call at DiPonzio Bros. Funeral Home, 527 State St., where funeral will be held on Tuesday, Dec. 7, 1943, at 8 a.m. and 9 o'clock at St. Anthony of Padua.  Interment in Holy Sepulchre Cemetery.


Papa Bouche's name appears in newspapers throughout the 1940s and 1950s, usually in connection with the spectacular shows he offered each year.  Reviews continued to be very good year-in and year-out.  No matter what was going on in the world, there were still people who wanted good food and good entertainment.  During this period, Bouche began referring to himself as an "impresario."  The definition of impresario is:

A person who organizes and often finances concerts, plays, or operas, performing a role in stage arts that is similar to that of a film or television producer. The term originated in the social and economic world of Italian opera, in which from the mid-18th century to the 1830s, the impresario was the key figure in the organization of a lyric season.

In 1948 Bouche opened the Latin Quarter nightclub on Miami Beach which he renamed "Bouche's Parisienne."  He remembered, "I had my public.  They came when they saw the name Bouche.  I gave them the shows they wanted.  After my shows my people called for Papa Bouche to dance.  I introduced the rhumba in the United States and demonstrated it.  The people loved it."

Like many before and after him, Albert Bouche ran afoul of the Internal Revenue Service who came after him in 1955.  He was accused of under-paying his taxes in the amount of $101,539.81.  After some back-and-forth with the tax men, Bouche agreed to pay $24,288 to settle all claims against him. 

The end of an era was announced in the Tower Ticker column of the Chicago Daily Tribune on October 12, 1956:

"Aging Papa Bouche sold his Villa Venice (in Wheeling) and poof goes Chi.'s most fantastic showplace."

Yes, the Villa Venice would continue under new ownership as the "New" Villa Venice, but it just wouldn't be the same.  The dream that was the Villa Venice finally ended when it burned to the ground on March 4, 1967.

Albert Bouche had maintained a separate residence in Miami Beach, Florida for years and he lived there full time after he sold his Chicago operations.  As he was winding down his businesses, Bouche and his wife bought a small house at 107 Third Street in Hallandale, Florida.  An industrial building sits on that site today.

In 1959 he sold his one remaining restaurant, the Villa Venice in Hallandale, Florida as age and poor health began to catch up with him.

Even in retirement Papa Bouche was in demand by showmen and restaurateurs.  In the 1960s Bouche discussed possibly putting on a "Villa Venice type revue" at the Deauville in Miami or the Flamingo in Las Vegas, but ultimately nothing came of it.  

Albert Bouche died August 5, 1964 in Miami Beach.  He was 83 years old.  He was buried in Fred Hunter's Hollywood Memorial Gardens East in Hollywood, Florida:

Photo Courtesy Find a Grave Volunteer JoeyC

Out of sight - out of mind.  There were big writeups in the Miami newspapers reporting the death of Albert Bouche.  But even after all his years as a restaurateur and showman in Chicago, the only note of the death of Papa Bouche was this mention buried in Herb Lyon's "Tower Ticker" column of  August 21, 1964:

"Albert (Papa) Bouche who ran the spectacular shows at the Villa Venice during its voom days, died in Hallandale, Fla., at 83."

His obituary in the Miami newspapers reported that he was survived by his wife Edna, a son in Argentina, a daughter in Italy, a brother in Chicago and a sister in Italy.

After the Villa Venice burned in 1967 it was not rebuilt.  Instead, a Hilton Hotel and Allgauer's restaurant (which they have the audacity to call "Allgauer's on the Riverfront") now stand on the site.

Since I moved to Wheeling several years ago I often pass by the site of the Villa Venice.  And if I concentrate really hard I can hear the sound of music and laughter and the singing of the gondoliers on the Des Plaines River. Oh, the Villa Venice - how magical it must have been.

Papa Bouche' - there will never be another like him.  May he rest in peace.

Sunday, November 1, 2020

ONE OF EVANSTON'S HAPPIEST AND MOST SUBSTANTIAL CITIZENS - Max Fell

An obituary appeared in the Evanston Review on March 17, 1960.  It said in part, 

"Max Fell, who with his horse and wagon was known to generations of Evanstonians, died Wednesday of last week in Evanston Hospital.  He was 86.

His business was collecting and selling old paper, scrap iron and miscellaneous metal.  Up to the beginning of this month, when he became ill, he had been doing it for 54 years."


When I was a boy, most mothers worked at home taking care of their families.  Periodically a man pushing a large wooden cart would stop us children when we were out playing and say, "Tell your mother the knife sharpener man is here."  Our mothers were always happy to see him, and they would gather up all their knives and scissors and take them out to him to be sharpened.  They then paid him - in cash of course - and he walked on to another block and started his routine all over again.  We never knew his name.  He was always "The knife sharpener man."  After all, that's what he called himself.

Max Fell, on the other hand, was what we used to call a "junk man."  He went up and down Evanston's many alleys in his horse-drawn wagon looking for "good junk" that he could collect and sell.  His acquisition cost was virtually nil, so everything he collected and sold was almost 100% profit.  Unlike the Knife Sharpener Man, I never knew Max Fell but he is an interesting character nonetheless.  Before we take a closer look at junk found in Evanston's alleys, let's see what we can "dig up" about Max Fell.

Max Fell was born May 15, 1873 or April 25, 1875 (he reported both dates) in Lithuania, although when asked he usually said "Russia."  As a young man he learned to handle horses as a member of a Russian artillery battery.  This skill was to prove useful to him later in life as we will see.  

In about 1900 Max married Rose Kutok (1881-1964) and she, of course, traveled with him to his new life in the United States.  

As he did with his date of birth, Max Fell gave different answers when asked when he immigrated to the United States.  Sometimes he said 1901, sometimes 1903.  When he applied for US Citizenship he said that he had arrived in the US on October 14, 1904.  None of these dates hold up to scrutiny when other factors are taken into consideration.  Max and Rosa told the 1910 US Census taker they had five children:  Nine year-old Ahren/Aaron (1903-1955), seven year-old Morris/Maurice (1905-1982), three year-old Ruth/Fannie (1906-1996), two year-old Edith (1907-2004) and six month-old Jacob/Jack (1909-2008).  They said that Aaron and Maurice had been born in Russia; Fannie, Edith and Jacob had all been born in the United States.  Since Aaron was born in 1903 and Morris was born in 1905 a more likely immigration date for them was 1905/1906.  Of course Max and Rosa had used the Jewish calendar when they were living in Russia and there was often confusion when trying to remember the dates of past events recorded using a different calendar.  No matter when they actually arrived, they moved to Evanston within a year at the urging of an uncle, the late Elias Rubin, who at that time operated a second-hand business in Evanston.  Max and Rosa do not appear in the 1905 Evanston Directory, but they are listed in the 1909 Directory.  

In the 1910 US Census, Max Fell and his family were living at 2016 West Railroad Avenue in Evanston.  West Railroad Avenue became Green Bay Road in 1936:

2016 West Railroad Avenue (Green Bay Road), Evanston, Illinois

Current residents will recognize 2016 Green Bay Road as the home of the Windy City Garden Center.



Max said he was thirty six-years old, and that he was in his first marriage.  He had been born in Russia.  He said he had been married for ten years.  He said he had immigrated in 1903 and that he had filed papers to become a US Citizen.  He reported his native language was Yiddish, and that his occupation was "Junk Peddler."  He said he could both read and write.

Max's wife Rosa, said she was twenty-nine years old and also in her first marriage.  She had been married for ten years.  She had given birth to five children and said they were all alive in 1910.  Like her husband she had been born in Russia but unlike Max she reported her native language as Russian.  She also could both read and write.

Max Fell became a naturalized US citizen on April 5, 1912.  He used to say that the best thing he ever did was come to the United States.  "America's the best land of all.  You are free here and you can always make a good living if you work hard." 

On November 17, 1914, the last of Max and Rosa's children was born:  Toby Sophia Fell (1914-1977).

Like all good Americans, Max registered for the draft on September 12, 1918.  His address was still the house on West Railroad Avenue in Evanston.  He said he was a Junk Dealer and self-employed.  The Registrar said Max was of medium height and stout build, with grey eyes and black hair.  They also reported "Part of 3rd finger on right hand missing."

The 1920 US Census found the Max Fell family still living at 2016 West Railroad Avenue in Evanston.  The family consisted of forty six year-old Max, forty year-old Rosa, eighteen year old Aaron, seventeen year old Morris, and twelve year old Ruth.  No mention of Edith, Jacob or Toby.  They reported they had immigrated in 1905 and were naturalized in 1909.  When doing genealogy research remember that years ago peoples' recollections of dates and places were often inaccurate.  It is never a good idea to use the Census as a primary source because people could tell the census taker anything without having to back it up.

Getting back to the 1920 Census, Max reported that he owned the house on West Railroad, and that his occupation was "Junk Dealer."  Morris reported that he was a "wagon boy" at the "Fields store."  Max and Rosa said the could neither read nor write.  This contradicts the 1910 Census when they both said they could read and write.  In the 1920 Census they reported that all of their children were able to both read and write.  All of them reported that they could speak English.

In 1926, Max Fell and family moved from Green Bay Road to a beautiful nine room home at 2310 Ridge Avenue in Evanston:

2310 Ridge Avenue, Evanston
  

I guess there's money to be made in junk.  After the family moved to the Ridge address, Max ran his junk business from the Green Bay Road location.  

The 1930 US Census reflected the Fell family's new address at 2310 Ridge in Evanston.  The family consisted of: Max Fell, age 56; his wife Rose, age 48, and children Maurice, age 26; Ruth, age 23; Edith, age 21; Jake, age 20; Robert, age 16; and Sophia, age 15.  I am glad to see that the children who had been "lost" in the 1920 Census had been "found."  The family left the "Own a Radio?" field blank but I am sure with all those young people in the house they must have owned a radio - probably several.  Max said he owned the house and it was worth $30,000.00.  He was a "Proprietor in Junk" and not a Veteran.  Maurice was a "Chauffeur in a Private House,"  Ruth was a "Bookkeeper in a Bakery," Edith was a "Stenographer for a Publisher" and Jake was a "Butcher in a Market."

The 1940 US Census was not substantially different for the Fell family.  They were, of course, still living at 2310 Ridge in Evanston.  The family now consisted of:  Max Fell, 66; wife Rose, 57; children Maurice, 35; Ruth, 33; and Toby, 25.  There was also a new addition to the family:  Bernard Fell, 5 - Grandson.  Max was now a "Buyer in a Junk Business," Ruth was a "Clerk in a Bakery," Toby was a "Floor Clerk in a Department Store," and Maurice was a "Chauffeur for a Private Family."  They had all lived in the same place in 1935.  The Great Depression had taken place since the 1930 Census, and Max said his $30,000.00 house was now only worth $12,000.00.

The 1940 US Census asked for the first time the "Highest Grade of School Completed."  Max said he had gone as far as the 7th grade; Rose had 4 years of high school; Ruth had gone as far as the 8th grade; Toby had 4 years of high school, and Maurice had gone as far as the 8th grade. 

What was it like to be a junk dealer in Evanston, Illinois?  A 1955 interview with Max Fell said:

"Jaunting all day by horse and buggy through the alleys of Evanston is Max Fell's idea of a satisfying and healthful life.  He has been doing it for 49 years in which he has reared a family of seven prosperous children, made many backyard acquaintanceships with charming families and enjoyed the companionship of many sympathetic horses.  Max's business is collecting and selling old paper, scrap iron and miscellaneous junk.  When prices were better, be bought old paper and junk,  Now he usually charges a fee for removing the stuff from the premises and makes calls by appointment.  He admits it's love of horses and outdoors that keeps him on the go past retirement age for most men.  He tried indoor life, couldn't stand it and returned to the alley routine."   

As I mentioned above, Max had grown up with horses in his native Lithuania  and learned how to handle them as a member of a Russian artillery battery.  Horses would play a big role in Max's life in Evanston.  He told an interviewer that he had owned about 75 horses through the years.  The number is large because when he was younger he was a horse trader as well as a junk dealer. Horse swapping and colt breaking were two of his favorite pastimes.  Once an Evanstonian offered Max the meanest wild west colt in his corral plus $10.00 if he could put a bridle on the horse.  Max bridled the colt, tamed it, rode away with it and later sold it for $150.00.  Max kept his horses on a lot he owned at Ridge Avenue and Central Street in Evanston (approximately where the Cos Building is located today).  

Later in life Max's constant companion and best friend was a horse named Jim (no relation to your author).  The Evanston Review used to run a column called "The Evanston Revue" by editor Walter Lovelace who called himself "The Saunterer."  In 1955 he wrote about Max Fell and Jim:

"Should an anxious horse wearing a nosebag poke his head into a coffee shop to inquire about a man, chances are the horse is Jim, the man is his owner and closest friend, Max, and the nosebag is empty.  That's what happens when Max Fell, one of the town's happiest and most substantial citizens, ties a luncheon bag on Jim's nose and then drops in for a cup of coffee and lingers too long.  When Jim finishes, he is anxious to get going."  


Max Fell took pride in never letting weather prevent his daily journeys through the city.  But it was not all work.  In below-zero weather, he would hitch up his horse to take Northwestern students for hayrides, continuing this custom until shortly before his death.

Max Fell refused to join the rest of the world in mechanizing his equipment, chiefly, he would say, "because I love horses."  One of his evening rules was to never sit down to a meal until his horse was fed and bedded down.  His reason for not retiring years ago, he would say, was his love for the horses and for the outdoors.

The one time he did try using a truck, it stalled in 10-below zero weather, and two of his toes were frozen while he waited for a tow car.  So Max gladly sold the truck at a $1,000.00 loss and went back to his reliable horse.

Also, he once tried hitching his wagon to a mule.  The mule jovially hee-hawed as it kicked Max in the forehead, nearly fracturing his skull.  No more mules for Max.

Once a woman accused Max of driving an unshod horse.  He invited her to lift Jim's foot and see for herself.  She declined and called a policeman.  The policeman also declined to inspect Jim's footwear and walked away.  This was lucky for the policeman, Max said because when a busybody tries to life Jim's foot he always gets a kick in the face.  Actually Jim wears rubber shoes.  He is fitted to a new set every month by a farrier who travels to the barn by auto and charges $14.00.   

Sadly, the Fell's oldest son Aaron, died on September 16, 1955.  We was fifty-three years old.  He had been living and working in Waukegan, Illinois as the plant manager of a paper company.  I was unable to determine the cause of his death, but I was able to verify that he was buried at Westlawn Jewish Cemetery in Norridge, Illinois:


Jim, Max fell's constant equine companion since 1945 died in February of 1960.  There is no record of where Jim was buried.  After Jim's death, Max Fell no longer felt like he wanted to scour the alleys of Evanston for "good junk."

Max Fell died shortly after Jim on March 9, 1960.  He was at least 86 years old.  Here is his death notice from the Chicago Tribune from March 11, 1960:


Like his son Aaron, Max was buried at Westlawn Jewish Cemetery in Norridge, Illinois, in the Rose Section, Block 15, Lot 1, Grave 5:


Max Fell lived the American Dream.  Through honest hard work he provided for his family and made many friends along the way.  I think it is appropriate at this point, to restate Max's comments about his adopted country:

"America's the best land of all.  You are free here and you can always make a good living if you work hard." 

I never met Max Fell, but I'm sure that if I had, I would never have forgotten him.

Max Fell - one of Evanston's happiest and most successful citizens - may he rest in peace.



Special thanks, as always to Mike Kelly who brought the story of Max Fell to my attention then provided much of the research material for this story.

Saturday, October 3, 2020

PHOTOGRAPHERS, PISTOLS AND PARASOLS - Mabel Sykes Podcast

Long-time readers of this blog may remember that in June of 2013 I told the story of Mabel Huxley Sykes, noted Chicago photographer and the favorite photographer of silent film superstar Rudolph Valentino.  I was recently contacted by Lee McIntyre who hosts an interesting podcast called "Photographers, Pistols, & Parasols" which tells the stories of early women photographers - women who were professional photographers between 1840-1930.

Lee wanted to to an episode about Mabel Sykes and asked if she could reference my blog story about Mabel.  I was, of course, more than happy to agree.

On October 1, Lee presented her podcast about Mabel Sykes.  You can listen to it here:

http://p3photographers.net/p3p059/

Notwithstanding the fact that she heaped praise upon my blog and my story on Mabel Sykes, Lee has done an outstanding job of presenting Mabel's life and work from her viewpoint.  I really enjoyed listening to it and I'm sure you will too.  

 




Thursday, October 1, 2020

THE CARLSON BUILDING ELEVATOR OPERATORS - Anna Beckman and Hildur Beckman Bernardi

Most young people of my generation wore braces at one time or another to straighten their teeth.  I certainly did.  If you grew up in Evanston, Illinois there is a good chance that your orthodontist had his offices in the Carlson Building at 636 Church Street.  In those days wearing braces meant almost weekly visits to the orthodontist. The Carlson Building is a multi-story office building that provided elevators to get to the correct floor.  A big difference though was, that even in the 1960s and 1970s the Carlson Building still had elevator operators, as opposed to automatic elevators.  If you were an average Evanstonian you may have visited the Carlson Building hundreds of times over the years and probably never even thought about the ladies who operated the elevators.  They were part of the "fixtures" of the building and quietly performed their function year in and year out.

As you entered the elevator you told the operator the floor of your destination (hopefully adding "Please") and no matter how many people were in the elevator the operator only stopped at the floors that had been requested.  As you exited, you may have said "thank-you" but probably did not.  The Carlson Building elevator operators were two sisters, Anna Beckman and Hildur Beckman Bernardi and until their retirement were considered as necessary to the operation of the Carlson Building as the elevators themselves.  So let's take a trip down memory lane and find out about those two irreplaceable "fixtures."    

Anna O. Beckman and Hildur Victoria Beckman were both born in Rice Lake, Wisconsin.  Anna was born December 3, 1907 and Hildur was born April 9, 1910.  They were two of the daughters of Ernest Christofer "Frank" Beckman (1882-1964) and Anna Christina Naslin (1875-1960).  The family name was sometimes spelled "Backman."  Ernest and Anna both came from Skorped, Västernorrland, Sweden.  They both came to the US in July of 1902 aboard the SS Ariosto, and were married when they arrived in Boston, Massachusetts on August 1, 1902,  Ernst told the immigration officials their final destination was Rice Lake, Minnesota.  He may have misspoken or the officer may have misunderstood because Ernst and Anna ended up not in Rice Lake Minnesota, but in Rice Lake, Wisconsin. 

Ernst and Anna were blessed with seven children:  Garlade/Gustaf Frederick (1902-1991), Ernest Theodore (1904-1959), Anna O. (1907-2002), Oscar W. (1908-1971), Hildur Victoria (1910-1989), Agnes Lennaea - Mrs. Walter Erhart (1915-2008), and one unnamed child who died in infancy. 

The first US Census records for Anna and Hildur were in the census of 1910.  The census taker visited the Beckman family at their home in Barron County, Wisconsin on April 26, 1910.  Ernst said he worked as an employee on a farm that they owned, but they did have a mortgage.  Anna reported that she had given birth six times and that five of the children were still alive.  Their daughter Anna was 2 and the yet unnamed Hildur was 1/12.  

By the 1920 US Census many changes had taken place for the Beckman family.  First of all, Ernst and Anna reported that they had become Naturalized Citizens in 1911.  They were still living in Barron County, Wisconsin on the farm that they owned that was still mortgaged.  The family had grown and now Ernst and Anna had six children.  Everyone in the family except five year-old Agnes could both read and write.   

Anna Beckman came to Evanston first, "at the encouragement of friends," as she reported years later.  In a short time she was hired as the first full-time elevator operator in the newly constructed Carlson Building at 636 Church Street.

I have previously related the story of Victor Carlson and the Carlson Building:

https://undereverytombstone.blogspot.com/2015/10/he-left-his-mark-on-downtown-evanston.html

In a nutshell the Carlson Building was a ten-story 200 unit medical office building built in late 1925.  In addition to its location in downtown Evanston, the Carlson Building was one of the first office buildings to be constructed especially to house medical offices - doctors, dentists, etc.  Each suite was completed with the additional electrical power and additional plumbing that medical offices would require.  Although some suites were leased to other types of tenants, the Carlson Building remains to this day primarily a medical office building.


When the Carlson building was built it 1925 in was outfitted with two elevators.  Most elevators of that period required an operator as opposed to the "automatic" or "self service" elevators of later years.  During this time automatic elevators were illegal in many parts of the country because they were thought to be unsafe.  Victor Carlson's elevators required operators and so Anna Beckman was hired by Victor Carlson in 1926.  According to the sisters, Anna then "enticed her sister to join her (in Evanston)".

But Hildur Beckman did not immediately join Anna in the Carlson Building.  In 1928 while living in Evanston, Hildur met Dominick Thomas Bernardi (1908-1959).  Sometimes he went by "Thomas D. Bernardi."  Love bloomed and the couple was married.  In 1929 they were blessed with a daughter, Betty Belle - Mrs. James Mattson (1929-1992).

The 1930 US Census finds Hildur, her husband and daughter renting an apartment at 2115 Ashland in Evanston.  A parking lot occupies that space today.  Their rent was $22.00 per month.  Twenty two year-old Dominic was a "Laborer in a Greenhouse."  Twenty year-old Hildur and one year-old Betty did not work outside the home.  They were all US citizens, and Dominic and Hildur could both read and write.

I could not find Anna Beckman in the 1930 US Census, but the Evanston Directory for 1929 shows her living at 1612 Central Street in Evanston.  A parking lot occupies that space now.

The Evanston Directory for 1931 shows her living at 7521 N. Sheridan Road in Chicago:


7521 N. Sheridan Road, Chicago


The directories show her as an elevator operator but not as an employee of the Carlson Building.  Instead her employer is listed as "Renting Serv Corp." perhaps an umbrella company for employees of Victor Carlson's various properties.

In March of 1930 Victor Carlson's creditors forced him into bankruptcy.  The stock market had collapsed in 1929 and caused many empires to fall apart, including Victor Carlson's.  Ultimately Carlson lost the building that bears his name, but that did not seem to affect Anna Beckman who continued to work as an elevator operator.

By 1936 Hildur's husband Dominic Bernardi was unemployed.  The Great Depression was underway, and work for laborers was very hard to find.  So Hildur went to work - first as a maid at The Elmgate Manor apartment hotel in Evanston and then as an elevator operator.  Not with her sister at the Carlson Building, but according to the Evanston Directory at Lord's Department Store in downtown Evanston.  Perhaps Hildur needed to gain some elevator experience because in a 1975 interview the sisters reported that Hildur joined Anna in the Carlson Building as an elevator operator in 1936.

But the 1940 US Census does not bear that out.  According to the Census, Hildur Bernardi was an "Addressograph Operator" for a "Retail Department Store," probably Lord's.  Hildur and Dominick and Betty were renting an apartment at 1010 Main Street for which they paid $38.00 per month. 

1010 Main Street, Evanston

Dominick Bernardi was employed again - he was a "Laborer" for a "Manufacturer of Weatherproof Nails."  It is interesting to look at the family's educational status.  Dominick had gone as far as the seventh grade, Hildur through the second year of High School, and eleven year old Betty had completed fourth grade.

I was successful in locating Anna Beckman in the 1940 US Census.  She lived in the "Claridge Hotel" at 319 Dempster Street in Evanston.  


The Claridge Hotel - 319 Dempster Street, Evanston


She said she was thirty two years old, that she worked all year as an "Elevator Operator" in an "Office Building."  She also said that she worked forty-eight hours per week.  Finally, she said she had been living in the same address in 1935.

We don't know exactly when she left Lord's Department Store, but it is safe to say that Hildur Beckman Bernardi joined her sister Anna Beckman as an elevator operator in the Carlson Building sometime in the early 1940s.

The 1975 interview with the Evanston Review gave us an insight into what the sisters were like.

"We love our jobs."

"We must know more people in Evanston that anyone."

"When we walk down the street we get 'helloed' to death."

They talk in tandem, one completing a statement, the other adding to it...never interrupting, merely juxtapositioning their comments as they do their elevator departures at 636 Church Street.

The two sisters admit that they have greeted two generations, maybe three generations of doctors' patients.  "We see them grow from babies, to mothers and fathers, then to grandparents."

An oft-reported phrase is "Oh, I remember your father when he was your age."

Some of the old familiar faces move away, then come back to find that Anna and Hildur are still on the job.  Hildur and Anna like it that way.  They enjoy their jobs.  Anna says: "We work hard, mentally and physically.  We must make thousands of trips up and down per day."

Hildur: "And we answer hundreds of questions a day.  People who don't see the building directory, ask us where to find doctor so and so.  Some even ask how much a doctor charges.  We know the doctors' hours and their days off, information one won't find in the directory."

Anna:  "Many of the passengers tell us their complaints - their problems, their ailments."  They listen but don't gossip.

"Some people complain about the parking, as they rush in late for their appointments."  But the loyal Carlson Building employees add, "that the same people are lucky they can shop and have lunch in the same area.  Oh, and the doctors.  We know them pretty well, too.  We know their habits, their moods, when they have something on their minds."

And the sisters insist they don't discuss their aches and pains to the doctors on their way up and down.

"There was one doctor," Hildur recalled, who is retired, "who, if he thought we weren't feeling well, would insist on our coming right to his office for a check-up - no matter how busy he was, or how many people he had waiting."  

Anna and Hildur are grateful they are in pretty good health.  When they have been away for illness the receptions they received on their return were "unbelievable" they chime.

One year, after Hildur returned after being hospitalized, she was surprised with a luncheon in the Orrington Hotel.  And Anna, after a similar absence, was treated to a luncheon arranged by a dentist's wife in the Dominion Room.

Two years ago one of the dentists and his wife invited them to their 50th wedding anniversary reception in Lake Forest.  "We had more fun," recalls Anna.  "We knew everyone there," adds Hildur.

One year they spent 11 days in Hawaii as guests of the former owner of Lyman-Sargent's drug store and his wife.  "We have a standing invitation to visit," they tell.  Each Christmas we receive a card saying, "Isn't it about time you girls came back?"

On the job, the sisters are always ready for the unexpected.  "We've had lots of people faint," comments Hildur.  "And we've taken down a few dead ones," adds Anna.  She explains that they didn't die in the elevator, but of heart attacks elsewhere in the building.

"Once we had a young woman faint after coming out of a dentist's office.  We laid her down on the elevator floor and called the dentist she had just left.  It helps if we know which doctor to contact."

Anna:  "We can tell right off by looking at a person if he is going to faint or be sick.  We try to find out right away who his doctor is.  Then we summon him right away."

The sisters help the arrivals on crutches, in wheelchairs, with canes or walkers.  "It is sad," says Anna, "to see some of the people we remember as young and vibrant and at their very best."

Everybody who knows the sisters calls them by their first names. But some call Hildur, Hilda.  She doesn't seem to mind.  She is merely surprised because Hildur is on her name tag.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this article, I wore braces on my teeth as a teenager and remember going to the Carlson Building countless times during those years.  I was of course aware of the two elevator operators and it was obvious they were sisters but frankly I never paid much attention to either of them.

That changed in the late 1970s when my dentist retired and I didn't care for his replacement.  I needed to find a new dentist and at first didn't know how to go about it.  Then I realized that there was a resource right in the Carlson Building!   One morning I approached one of the sisters (I don't remember which) and said "I need to find a new dentist.  I figure you know all about all the doctors and dentists here so you would be the best source to recommend a good dentist for me."  Hildur (or Anna) responded "We are not really supposed to recommend one particular dentist over another but perhaps I can help you.  Would you be willing to go to a female dentist?"  (Remember, this was the 1970s).  "Sure," I responded, "as long as she is good."  Then Hildur (or Anna) responded, "there is a new dentist in Dr. Hodur's office.  She's brand new - her name is Marguerite Kelly and she's very nice.  We've heard nothing but good things about her."  I told Hildur (or Anna) that my great-grandmother was named Margaret Kelly so that was a good omen, and I called Dr. Kelly for an appointment.  She turned out to be every bit as good as her recommendation and I stayed with her until she moved her practice to the far southern suburbs of Chicago.  

As automatic elevators became more commonplace some people recommended that Hildur and Anna be replaced.  Bruce Goodman, who owned the Carlson Building in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s was asked if the building ever considered putting in automatic elevators.  He responded, "Yes, but we couldn't give the people the type of service we do without Anna and Hildur, who are our greeters, our front door, our P.R.  They are beloved people - a great asset to the building, and because of them we have tight security.  If they notice anyone or anything suspicious they report it immediately.  They are the main reason we haven't put in automatic elevators." 

But life goes on for Anna and Hildur, as it does for all of us.  Anna never married, but Hildur's husband Thomas D. Bernardi died in 1959 and is buried in Memorial Park Cemetery in Skokie:


I was not able to find out exactly when Hildur and Anna retired but it was probably around 1980 when Hildur would have been 70 and Anna was 73.  They both wished to remain together and to remain in Evanston, so they moved into the Presbyterian Home at 3200 Grant Street in Evanston:

The Presbyterian Home, Evanston, Illinois

Hildur Beckman Bernardi died December 29, 1989 in Evanston.  She was 79 years-old.  Here is her Death Notice from the Chicago Tribune of January 2, 1990:


Hildur was buried next to her husband Thomas at Memorial Park Cemetery in Skokie:



Anna Beckman died May 27, 2002 in Evanston at the age of 94.  Here is her Death Notice from the Chicago Tribune of May 29, 2002:


I was originally unable to locate where Anna Beckman had been buried.  her Death Notice said the interment was private and she has not been dead for 20 years so I couldn't get her Death Certificate.  I reached out to the N.H. Scott & Hebblethwaite Funeral Home and they told me that Anna was buried next to her sister in the Mausoleum Annex section, West ½ of Lot 5, Block 12.  Unfortunately her grave is not marked:


Here are Anna and Hildur in the place we remember them best:


Scripture tells us that there is a ladder that reaches from heaven to earth (Jacob's Ladder).  But that was a long time ago.  Perhaps modernization has taken place and there are now elevators carrying men and angels from earth to heaven.  If that is the case, I'm sure that Anna Beckman and Hildur Beckman Bernardi have taken up their positions as the Heavenly Elevator Operators.

May Anna Beckman and Hildur Beckman Bernardi rest in peace.

Special thanks, as always, to Mike Kelly who provided valuable research materials for this article.