The Copa (3 page)

My parents celebrating the holidays in 1947 with an unidentified friend.

My mother with our dog, Tinker. Tinker was a given to us by Sammy Davis Jr.

The building was very old and had a circular driveway where I would sometimes roller-skate. One day I fell after I stopped short on my skates and landed on my elbows. I took a hard spill onto sharp gravel, which stuck in my arms. I remember crying all the way to our apartment because of the terrible pain. My parents never expressed any emotion. I never saw my mother or father cry in front of me as a child. This was hard for me since I was a very emotional person, and it was hard to bond emotionally with them.

My mother's daily routine seldom varied. She would generally awake at nine-thirty in the morning and then get herself ready, make-upwise, before she would appear from her bedroom. Between then and 3
P.M.
, which was time to have lunch with my father, she'd find things to occupy herself with. To prepare for lunch, she would instruct the servants what to do, what special food to make, or have them call in an order from Farber's. My father liked Farber's sturgeon and herring. My mother's lunch tray consisted of melba toast with cottage cheese and possibly one pear. They would sit in his den and eat lunch before he got
ready to leave for the club. I assume that at some point during the day she visited the beauty parlor or went shopping. She would have her hair done or shop at least three to four times a week. Her exercise consisted of yoga that she would practice in her room; I'd sometimes walk by and she would be standing on her head.

Dad's everyday routine never varied; he probably did not get up until one in the afternoon. Then he would proceed to work in his den until it was time for lunch with my mother. As a rule, he usually had a massage at home three times a week and then he'd get dressed and Jackson would drive him to the Copa. Jackson would then return to the house to do odd jobs or run errands. Sometime around 4
A.M.
Jackson would return to the Copa to pick my father up. I don't believe my father came home before 4
A.M.
except on a few rare occasions.

We had a long dining-room table, worthy of a King, and I would sit at one end and my mother at the other. The table had a buzzer underneath it that my mother would buzz, letting the maid know it was now time to serve dinner. The meals were of three courses, even if we ordered from the club. There was a red phone in my father's office, which was the hotline directly to the Copa kitchen, and my mother and I would call and order off the Copa menu at least three or four times a week. I don't ever recall my mother cooking in our kitchen at the house; it just was not something she did. Since she was so fanatical about her weight, she tried to stay away from fattening foods. We'd start off with a salad or vichyssoise and then it was liver, chicken, or steak with vegetables for the main course. She was not a big eater and would encourage me not to eat a lot so I could be thin like she was.

Since this was the environment I grew up in, I assumed that everyone lived like we did. Believe me when I tell you that I was in shock
to find out that other people didn't have maids to serve them. I was never even in a grocery store until after I got married because my mother had everything delivered to the house or the staff would go and buy it for us.

Very rarely did mother venture out during weeknights. I remember one time she kissed me good-bye—I can still smell her perfume—and told me that they were going to be on
The Ed Sullivan Show
. She told me what channel to watch, if I wanted to, so I could look for them in the audience. Well, there I was sitting alone in my room and I see her, in a white mink stole, and my dad being introduced by Ed Sullivan on television.

The one thing I looked forward to every year was going to camp for eight weeks during the summer months. I enjoyed being away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and because nothing was expected of me, I could be myself. I also enjoyed being with the other children. Through the years I went to several camps located in Massachusetts or Vermont that catered to Jewish children. At camp I played archery, went swimming and horseback riding. I would be disappointed when the time was over because I had friends, companionship, and was able to be around people my own age with the same interests. In fact, I still keep in touch with one of the girls I went to camp with back then.

On parents' day one year, my father and mother came to visit me at camp. I was embarrassed because all the other parents were in shorts and casual clothes, but my father had on a dress shirt and slacks with a sport jacket. I remember he complained the whole time because he was hot, uncomfortable, and sweating. It was summer, this was a camp, and there was no air-conditioning…I don't know what he ex
pected. My parents also had Jackson bring baskets of food for them. This also proved to be embarrassing because everyone else was eating the food provided by the camp and here we were with these gourmet lunches. I still have a picture of my parents sitting on a log eating their lunch. This was the only time he ever came to visit me during all my years of being at camp.

It sounds funny now, but I really just wanted to be a normal kid with normal parents who weren't involved in show business. But that wasn't our life. I was Jules Podell's daughter and that connected us to the big world of New York City nightlife, and when I look back at all the wonderful people I got to see in their heyday, there isn't much I would wish to change.

My father visiting me at summer camp during my teen years.

The famous Copacabana Girl drawing by Wesley Morje.

In 1920, Prohibition began in the United States after a constitutional amendment was passed. From January 16, 1920, until December 5, 1933, the “manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes” was prohibited in the United States.

Supporters of the law suggested that Prohibition would serve to reduce corruption and crime in the United States. In these terms, Prohibition was a failure, since the law only led to an increase in crime and made those who did sell and supply liquor rich and powerful.

The line outside the Copacabana during prom season. Taking your date to the Copa after the prom became a long-standing tradition for students in the New York-New Jersey area.

You can imagine the effect the new law had on the bar, nightclub, and saloon trade. It was said that for every legitimate bar that closed, a dozen speakeasies opened. Speakeasies would emerge as a refuge where patrons could go to consume alcohol and be entertained. Since speakeasies were illegal, patrons were usually given a password to gain entrance. Organized crime owned and supplied these illegal clubs with liquor and protection from the law. Local law enforcement agencies turned a blind eye to such criminal operations in exchange for bribes.

When Prohibition ended, the organized-crime outfits that had run the majority of speakeasies did not want to give up the lucrative profits the clubs had generated. They therefore needed front men, so-called legitimate businessmen, to act as owners of the legitimate bars and clubs. In many cases, the men selected would be owners in name only. While these front men operated the clubs, the mob skimmed profits from the nightly take and essentially oversaw the entire operation of the establishment.

The Copacabana opened its doors in October 1940. The nightclub was located in the basement of the Hotel Fourteen, and the official address was 10 East Sixtieth Street. This location had previously housed a nightclub and restaurant called the Villa Vallee, which was owned by the then-famous crooner Rudy Vallee. Vallee became famous in vaudeville, radio, and the movies before newcomer Bing Crosby eclipsed his popularity in the mid-1930s.

Monte Proser's name appeared on the lease as the primary owner when the Copacabana first opened its doors, as it also did on the menus, matchbooks, handbills, and the club's outside awning. Proser had made a name for himself as a nightclub publicist, with one of his accounts being the famed Stork Club. The Stork Club, owned by Sherman Billingsley,
was located at 3 East Fifty-third Street in New York. In the 1930s, the Stork Club was “the New Yorkiest spot in New York” according to columnist Walter Winchell. Also joining Proser to run the club was my father and Jack Entratter.

The dinner menu at the Copacabana from April 29, 1970. Besides the headline entertainment, the food at the club was also world famous.

Monte Proser knew Jack Entratter, as they had both worked at the Stork Club. Entratter, who was in his mid-twenties when the Copa first opened, would stay at the club for over a decade before heading to Las Vegas. Entratter was a large man, six foot three, and an imposing figure, which helped him begin his career in the New York clubs as a bouncer. Through his connections and outgoing personality, Entratter was able to cultivate friendships with the top people who ran the nightclubs. By most accounts, Entratter was a very religious and family-oriented man who loved children and for the most part had a gentle demeanor and even temper.

Proser would also venture out to California and became part owner of La Conga, a nightclub in Hollywood. Within a short period of time, Proser would also open various nightspots in others cities such as Miami Beach, Boston, and New York. While this proved lucrative in many cases, it also stretched Proser thin in terms of the attention he could focus on each nightspot. My father and Jack Entratter essentially ran the day-to-day operation of the Copacabana although Monte Proser's name was out front.

Monte Proser and company spared no expense when they decided on a theme that mixed Latin and tropical influences for the Copacabana decor. Interior designer Clark Robinson, who had worked on other venues with Proser, was hired to transform the space into an elegant nightspot. In a few months Robinson's transformation would be complete; it was extraordinary and exciting. To this day, those who
remember visiting the Copacabana mention the lush tropical motifs and palm trees that decorated the club.

When it first opened its doors, the outside of the Copacabana had an awning from the front steps to the street that initially read
MONTE PROSER'S COPACABANA
with the address—10
E
. 60—above. A few years later, another awning would be added, announcing that the club—now open in the summer—had installed
ARMO AIR CONDITIONING
. During the first few years of operation, the club shut down during the summer season for several months.

Phoebe Jacobs recalls:

The first chef hired to run the kitchens at the new nightclub was Pedro Pujal. Pujal had gained acclaim as the head chef of the Terrace
Club at the 1939 New York World's Fair. Approximately fifty people were hired to fill staff positions as cooks, bartenders, waiters, and other key personnel. My father prided himself on the cuisine served at the club and spent most of his time in the kitchen supervising the chefs and waitstaff.

My father and a friend cooking up something in the Copa kitchen.

Robert Alton and Margery Fielding were hired as choreographers for the first revue that would open at the Copacabana. Alton and Fielding rehearsed the line of dancing girls, originally dubbed the Samba Sirens, for weeks before the club's opening so they would be in top shape for their debut. My father would soon change the name of the Samba Sirens to the more appropriate Copa Girls.

Although it appeared to the press and public that Monte Proser owned the Copacabana, insiders knew that Frank Costello was the main money and muscle behind the scenes. Costello and his associates facilitated in getting the club off the ground with the proper connections for a successful start. Says music agent Frank Military: “Monte Proser fronted the club in the beginning while Jules Podell and Jack Entratter were managing and running it. The word on the street was that Frank Costello had a piece of the Copa. But Podell was the one who ran the day-to-day operations of the club.”

Frank Costello was born Francesco Castiglia on January 26, 1891, in Calabria, Italy. At the age of four, he, along with his mother and brother, arrived in the United States. Costello would become one of the most powerful and influential organized-crime bosses in American history during the 1940s and 1950s. At one point during his reign, he was so powerful that his nickname was the “Prime Minister of the Underworld.” Costello was associated with the Genovese crime family and based out of New York.

It was not until 1957, after a power struggle that culminated in an assassination attempt on Costello by Vito Genovese, that Costello would lose control and power of his organized-crime rackets, including his interest in the Copacabana. Even though the hit on Costello failed, Genovese appointed himself as acting boss. After Costello recovered, Genovese agreed to leave him alone if he would cede all of his organized-crime interests and no longer be involved with the Genovese family's businesses. It is not known who, if anyone, was then involved with the Copacabana on a regular basis as Costello had been. Costello would remain a New Yorker until he passed away in 1973 from a heart attack.

Costello and his people obviously had an arrangement before the Copacabana opened with Proser; what their exact arrangement was remains unclear. What is clear to many is that Frank Costello and the Genovese family had a major investment and interest in the ownership and involvement of the Copa.

From all the opening-month reviews, it seemed the Copacabana was a smash among critics and columnists, who praised its uniqueness and decor. The
New York Sun
raved, “The Copacabana is definitely a smart spot and unlike anything else the town has to offer in decor and atmosphere. The club has been crowded nightly since its opening…if this pace continues, the club's place in this hit class can scarcely be disputed.”

Although Jules Podell had previously operated a Coney Island restaurant, a Fulton Street chophouse, and the Kit Kat Club, it was the Copacabana that would be his lifelong passion. As 1940 ended, a new era was dawning for the world of nightclubs and the Copacabana was leading the way. My father's life would change forever as
the Copacabana went on to become the most famous nightclub in the world.

Every Sunday night my mother and I would go to the Copa for dinner and the early show. At three in the afternoon we'd start getting ready and dress up for our evening at the club. We would not leave until five or so, as it took my mother at least two hours to get herself together. She had to put her makeup on, select the proper attire, and look perfect before we could leave. When she was ready to go, Jackson would get the car and drive us to the club. As soon as we reached the doorman at the entrance of the club, we were treated like royalty. We would first go to the lounge while the staff was getting our table ready downstairs. The entire staff would greet and fawn over us; it was always “What can we get you, Mrs. Podell?” Mother usually had a cognac and I would have a soda. We would sit in the lounge until my father came out from the kitchen or his office and take us to our table downstairs.

We always sat at the same table, reserved for my father, when we went to the Copa, whether it was a Sunday night or a special occasion. I think Sunday night was chosen as our night to visit the club since it was probably the least busy night of the week. I would be all dolled up in my little white gloves and dress, and people would constantly come over and say hello. My father would always introduce us, but I would be bored to death waiting for the show to start. Sunday night was the most I ever saw of my father all week. He would sit down with us for fifteen or twenty minutes and talk to both of us. It was hard to discuss anything with him because his mind was preoccupied with what was happening at the club. I don't believe he really enjoyed being with us; it was like we were a distraction. He would have a scotch or two and then,
once the show began, he left us. Once in a while, on a rare occasion, he would eat dinner and watch the show with us.