[Dixielandjazz] Re: Blackstone Hotel
Charlie Hooks
charliehooks@earthlink.net
Sat, 06 Jul 2002 22:13:31 -0500
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on 7/5/02 4:12 PM, Rob McCallum at rakmccallum@hotmail.com wrote:
Hope it wasn't torn down, there's a lot of history in that building.
Well, the famous Blackstone Hotel still stands, thank the Lord! But it
is not in good health yet--indeed, if ever to come.
"Lot of history"...? You can't know the half of it! So let me add a
bit:
The Blackstone was opened in 1912: the most elegant hotel on Michigan
Avenue, the lakefront. South of the Chicago River's convergance and
Eastward flow, of course; since the south (loop) was the elegant place in
1912. South of the converged river was where all the money was, all the
great mansions (some of which still exist in blackout). The Blackstone
Hotel, yes, the magnificent! Enrico Caruso stayed there. Mary Garden
stayed there, the "tunnel", heavy with red velvet sofas and oiled mahogany
(now long closed) under Congress Ave. connecting with the Auditorium Hotel
and the Auditorium Theatre designed by Louis Sullivan and Adler, still in
operation, constantly being restored.
Beginning with Roosevest, every president stayed at the Blackstone; it
was vetted by the Secret Service and continued to be until Carter's time
when the hotel had deteriorated until there was no Room Service after
midnight! They moved.
I made a friend of Jimmy the Bellboy.
Jimmy the Bellboy was just over seventy at the time, hair dyed jet black,
slicked back into a well-oiled thirties "doo." He had been personal valet
to every president from Roosevelt to Carter, vetted by Secret Service each
time. I said, "Jimmy! Which one of all the presidents did you really like
the best?"
"Oh, Charlie, no question!. Harry Truman! He comes into the room
behind me, I set the bags down, and he puts his arm around me: 'Hey, Jimmy!
Where the hell can I get a drink?' I said, 'Mr. President--right here!"
And showed him to the bar. He was a little guy, not much bigger than me.
But there was something about him, something real big." I said, "Yeah,
Stalin noticed that, too."
When I arrived in Chicago, Spring of '78, to join Jim Beebe at the
Blackstone, I was 49 years old, a mere child, backviewing from here! John
Farmer was managing the hotel then, and I'm forever in his debt for allowing
me the occupancy of the Penthouse Suite, top floor of the Blackstone,
overlooking Lake Michigan, marble tables, gold plated bath fixtures, for ten
bucks a day--what it cost him to clean the room! I soon believed I'd died
and gone to heaven: except that I had to move out if the hotel filled up.
It rarely did.
Across Michigan Ave., between the Hotel and the Great Lake Michigan, were
the Art Institute of Chicago to my left, Grant Park in front of me, the
Shedd Aquarium to my right, and behind that the Planetarium with the
reclining chairs--I mean I could spend hours in the Art Institute, stroll
down through Grant Park to the Aquarium and gaze at strange fish, then sack
out in lounge chairs at the Planetarium and watch the star show. Kings
could never have found in the old days a routine comparable to mine.
And I found quickly found every cheap but good food joint in Chicago's
Loop, a place where they served baked potatoes the size of desk telephones
(I've never yet seen larger!) along with whatever entree you selected for a
buck and a quarter. And Rusty's--an old shack right on the lake at the main
lock, that served great shrimp and fish for very little, and you ate out on
the dock and watched the ships come in, gulls flying.
Jim Beebe has always liked living in the suburbs, perhaps reminding him
of his home in Wisconsin where his family were the elite, doctor's sons of
doctors. I, having been born in a tiny Texas town and having come of age in
Waco, an only slightly larger one, loved the city central--and still do! I
grew up on horses and now love the Elevated. Go figure! The City still
excites me, energizes me, even at age 73
And I surely did love The Blackstone! I came there knowing much more
about the hotel's history than its manager, John Farmer, did: he must have
thought I was nuts, carrying on about former gradeuer of the hotel, how
honored I was to be playing there--duh...huh....? The Grand Ballroom of the
Blackstone Hotel on Michigan Avenue in Chicago has seen more of the most
elegant history of this City than any other venue, possible exception of The
Palmer House.
Flaming Sally's in the Blackstone Hotel was the last of the truly Elegant
Rooms, bound in red velvet on all sides, topped by an eighteen foot
chandelier, acoustics so good as to be unreplipicable. Tuxedos. A
Maitre'de from Greece who snapped his fingers and took no jive from anyone.
Problem with the Blackstone was and still is the plumbing. It's almost a
century old and traverses 20 odd stories of concrete and brick. Real repair
would require demolishing and rebuilding. But she still stands, an elegant
red brick lady with her distinctive copper mansard roof, gracing the corner
of Michigan Ave. at Balbo.
Charlie
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<TITLE>Re: Blackstone Hotel</TITLE>
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on 7/5/02 4:12 PM, Rob McCallum at rakmccallum@hotmail.com wrote:<BR>
<BR>
<FONT SIZE=3D"2"><FONT FACE=3D"Arial"> Hope it wasn't torn down, there's a lot =
of history in that building.<BR>
</FONT></FONT><BR>
<BR>
Well, the famous Blackstone Hotel still stands, thank th=
e Lord! But it is not in good health yet--indeed, if ever to come. &nb=
sp;<BR>
<BR>
"Lot of history"...? You can=
't know the half of it! So let me add a bit:<BR>
<BR>
The Blackstone was opened in 1912: the most elegant hote=
l on Michigan Avenue, the lakefront. South of the Chicago River'=
s convergance and Eastward flow, of course; since the south (loop) was the e=
legant place in 1912. South of the converged river was where all=
the money was, all the great mansions (some of which still exist in blackou=
t). The Blackstone Hotel, yes, the magnificent! Enrico Caruso st=
ayed there. Mary Garden stayed there, the "tunnel", heavy wi=
th red velvet sofas and oiled mahogany (now long closed) under Congress Ave.=
connecting with the Auditorium Hotel and the Auditorium Theatre designed by=
Louis Sullivan and Adler, still in operation, constantly being restored. &n=
bsp; <BR>
<BR>
Beginning with Roosevest, every president stayed at the =
Blackstone; it was vetted by the Secret Service and continued to be until Ca=
rter's time when the hotel had deteriorated until there was no Room Service =
after midnight! They moved. <BR>
<BR>
I made a friend of Jimmy the Bellboy. <BR>
<BR>
Jimmy the Bellboy was just over seventy at the time, hai=
r dyed jet black, slicked back into a well-oiled thirties "doo." &=
nbsp; He had been personal valet to every president from Roosevel=
t to Carter, vetted by Secret Service each time. I said, "J=
immy! Which one of all the presidents did you really like the best?&qu=
ot;<BR>
<BR>
"Oh, Charlie, no question!. Harry Truman! &nb=
sp; He comes into the room behind me, I set the bags down, and he puts =
his arm around me: 'Hey, Jimmy! Where the hell can I get a drink?' &nb=
sp; I said, 'Mr. President--right here!" And showed him to the bar=
. He was a little guy, not much bigger than me. But there was so=
mething about him, something real big." I said, "Yeah, Stali=
n noticed that, too."<BR>
<BR>
When I arrived in Chicago, Spring of '78, to join Jim Be=
ebe at the Blackstone, I was 49 years old, a mere child, backviewing from he=
re! John Farmer was managing the hotel then, and I'm forever in his de=
bt for allowing me the occupancy of the Penthouse Suite, top floor of the Bl=
ackstone, overlooking Lake Michigan, marble tables, gold plated bath fixture=
s, for ten bucks a day--what it cost him to clean the room! I so=
on believed I'd died and gone to heaven: except that I had to move out if th=
e hotel filled up. It rarely did. <BR>
<BR>
Across Michigan Ave., between the Hotel and the Great La=
ke Michigan, were the Art Institute of Chicago to my left, Grant Park in fro=
nt of me, the Shedd Aquarium to my right, and behind that the Planetar=
ium with the reclining chairs--I mean I could spend hours in the Art Institu=
te, stroll down through Grant Park to the Aquarium and gaze at strange fish,=
then sack out in lounge chairs at the Planetarium and watch the star show. =
Kings could never have found in the old days a routine comparable to m=
ine. <BR>
<BR>
And I found quickly found every cheap but good food join=
t in Chicago's Loop, a place where they served baked potatoes the size of de=
sk telephones (I've never yet seen larger!) along with whatever entree you s=
elected for a buck and a quarter. And Rusty's--an old shack right on t=
he lake at the main lock, that served great shrimp and fish for very little,=
and you ate out on the dock and watched the ships come in, gulls flying.<BR=
>
<BR>
Jim Beebe has always liked living in the suburbs, perhap=
s reminding him of his home in Wisconsin where his family were the elite, do=
ctor's sons of doctors. I, having been born in a tiny Texas town and h=
aving come of age in Waco, an only slightly larger one, loved the city centr=
al--and still do! I grew up on horses and now love the Elevated.=
Go figure! The City still excites me, energizes me, even =
at age 73<BR>
<BR>
And I surely did love The Blackstone! I came there=
knowing much more about the hotel's history than its manager, John Farmer, =
did: he must have thought I was nuts, carrying on about former gradeuer of t=
he hotel, how honored I was to be playing there--duh...huh....? The Gr=
and Ballroom of the Blackstone Hotel on Michigan Avenue in Chicago has seen =
more of the most elegant history of this City than any other venue, possible=
exception of The Palmer House.<BR>
<BR>
Flaming Sally's in the Blackstone Hotel was the last of =
the truly Elegant Rooms, bound in red velvet on all sides, topped by an eigh=
teen foot chandelier, acoustics so good as to be unreplipicable. Tuxed=
os. A Maitre'de from Greece who snapped his fingers and took no jive f=
rom anyone.<BR>
<BR>
Problem with the Blackstone was and still is the plumbin=
g. It's almost a century old and traverses 20 odd stories of concrete =
and brick. Real repair would require demolishing and rebuilding.  =
; But she still stands, an elegant red brick lady with her distinctive =
copper mansard roof, gracing the corner of Michigan Ave. at Balbo. <BR=
>
<BR>
Charlie<BR>
<BR>
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<BR>
<BR>
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