The Copa Read online

  inside of flyer

  A flyer advertises an engagement by Sammy Davis Jr. at the Copacabana.

  Sammy would go on to play the Copa as a headliner both with the Will Mastin Trio and as a solo act. His shows were always one of the highlights of the season. Sammy was one of a handful of superstars who continued to play the Copa up until Jules Podell passed away.

  Another flyer, at this time, Sammy Davis Jr. was still a member of the Will Mastin Trio. Sammy, a few years later, would leave the group and venture out as a solo act. Sammy signed the back of this flyer to me.

  inside of flyer

  Another flyer, at this time, Sammy Davis, Jr. was still a member of the Will Mastin Trio. Sammy, a few years later, would leave the group and venture out as a solo act. Sammy signed the back of this flyer to me.

  Sammy Davis Jr. would become good friends with my father as the years went by. I remember one specific night when Sammy came over to our apartment and my nurse summoned me to my father’s den. With trepidation, I made my way to the den and I hid behind my nurse. Sammy had on a long coat, and while he and my father were talking, all of a sudden a whimpering sound and movement came from within Sammy’s coat. All I could see peeking out of the coat was this little black nose looking at me as Sammy smiled and opened up his coat to reveal a miniature poodle that was a gift for me. I thought this was the greatest thing in the world, since my father had never allowed an animal in the house. He didn’t want the dog, but my mother said it was a gift, so we got to keep him; I named the dog Tinker.

  We never had a pet because my father had a phobia against animals being in the house. Both my mother and I loved animals; I favored cats. Also, living in a high-rise was not conducive to proper exercise and walks. I have seen pictures of me, when I was two or three years old, on vacation in Florida playing with a kitten. I think my parents gave it to someone when we left—like a rent-a-cat. Just as I was getting attached to the cat, it was gone with no explanation. The same thing happened when we vacationed on Great Neck, Long Island. There are pictures of me playing with chicks and kittens, but at the end of the summer, they were gone right before we were.

  Tinker was put in the kitchen and not allowed in my room or the rest of the house until my father left for work. Jackson or one of the staff would take him out of the building for walks. On rare occasions, my mother and I might also take Tinker for a walk. I really don’t remember him ever liking me; he essentially became my mother’s dog. Tinker must have sensed that my father did not want him and gravitated toward my mother, who doted on him. Mom had the most contact with the dog, so years later when Tinker died in her arms, at a ripe old age, she was hysterical and grief-stricken.

  Sammy Davis came over a lot and was not required to use the service entrance as my father made many other African-Americans do when visiting him at the house. I think this was because Sammy brought in so much money and was loved so much by all audiences. I’m not entirely sure if my father was prejudiced or if he was just a product of the times. I saw Sammy perform many times at the Copa; it was always thrilling. Sammy Davis Jr. was always very nice to me; he was a real sweetheart and so very talented.

  The Will Mastin Trio and me: Will Mastin, Sammy Davis Jr., and Sammy Davis Sr. all signed this photo to me.

  CHAPTER 4

  The Performers and the Stars

  In terms of sheer star power, the Copacabana generated enough to illuminate the city brightly, year after year. The collective talent that graced its stage over the decades was a who’s who of the world of burlesque, vaudeville, Broadway, radio, television, movies, and music. No other nightclub in New York had such an amazing roster of headline performers. Jules Podell’s Copacabana could boast that it was “New York’s heart-quarters for great stars, great stars on the stage and at the tables, for the Copa is the showcase of show business.”

  Me with The Four Lads during one of their engagements at the Copa. The group was from Canada and had a string of hits in the 1950s and 1960s including “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)” “Moments To Remember.”

  Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis, Peggy Lee, Nat King Cole, Danny Thomas, Perry Como, Jimmy Durante, Lena Horne, Joe E. Lewis, Tony Bennett, Ella Fitzgerald, Bobby Darin, Paul Anka, Billy Eckstine, Louis Prima, Keely Smith, Connie Francis, Frankie Laine, Sid Caesar, Buddy Hackett, Sammy Davis Jr., Desi Arnaz, Xavier Cugat, Eddie Fisher, Mel Torme, Phil Silvers, Vic Damone, Red Buttons, Carmen Miranda, Rosemary Clooney, Ted Lewis, Johnnie Ray, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Norm Crosby, Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme, Tony Martin, Jackie Wilson, the Nicholas Brothers, Martha Raye, Chubby Checker, Johnny Mathis, Mort Sahl, Sam Cooke, the Mills Brothers, Jimmy Roselli, Petula Clark, Joan Rivers, Pat Cooper, Tom Jones, Dionne Warwick, Jack Jones, the Temptations, Wayne Newton, Diana Ross and the Supremes, Don Rickles, Bobby Vinton, Jerry Vale, Gladys Knight and the Pips, and Tony Orlando and Dawn all performed at the Copa.

  It would be impossible to give proper credit to all of the great entertainers who appeared at the Copacabana in one book. With that in mind, we have decided to highlight a few performers who are forever associated with the famed nightclub.

  Me and a friend pose with ventriloquist Jimmy Nelson and his dummy Danny O’ Day. Nelson gaine famed on television as a spokesperson for the Texaco Star Theatre starring Milton Berle.

  Ernie Kovacs poses with my father, me, and a member of the NYPD during a holiday toy drive at the club. Kovacs was a pioneer in the early days of television whose life was cut short when he was killed in an automobile accident in 1962.

  1950s singing sensation, Johnnie Ray, sits second from the right with a group of friends enjoying an evening at the club.

  My father with Nat King Cole. When Nat passed away from lung cancer in 1965 my father was devastated as they were good friends.

  My father and Nat Cole with two friends in the kitchen during one of Nat’s many appearances at the club.

  Nat King Cole and me. Nat was a kind and caring man; my mother said he was one of the nicest gentlemen she had ever met.

  Copa advertisements in playbills.

  My father looks on as Joe E. Lewis arrives on a horse to promote one of his openings at the Copacabana. Lewis was one of the most famous nightclub comics of all time.

  Singer Vic Damone, my father, and comedian Joe E. Lewis sharing a drink and a laugh one evening. Frank Sinatra would portray Lewis in the hit film The Joker Is Wild.

  Dad, Sophie Tucker, Joe E. Lewis, and Earl Wilson. Wilson was a popular newspaper entertainment gossip columnist at the time.

  Sophie Tucker and Dad with an unidentified man. Sophie was one of the first successful woman comics of the nightclub era.

  Tony Bennett

  When he was a youngster growing up in Astoria, Queens, the glamour of the Copacabana must have seemed worlds away to Anthony Dominick Benedetto, even though Manhattan was only a short distance. So when Tony Bennett finally got the opportunity to play the famed nightclub, it was a dream come true. Bennett recently reminisced about his memories of the Copacabana and its owner Jules Podell.

  The first time I ever went to the Copa I must have been about fourteen or fifteen years old. There was a little schoolgirl that had a crush on me and her father had a connection at the club. One day he took us there to see Jimmy Durante, who was headlining the Copa at the time. The act was billed as Clayton, Jackson and Durante, but Jimmy Durante was the true star of the show. To this day, it is still one of the greatest performances I’ve ever seen in my life. We went backstage after the show was over and Durante was very nice to all of us. I was just a little boy in awe of how great the show had been and I remember thinking to myself I want to do what Jimmy Durante does—be an entertainer. That really got me motivated to start thinking about a career in show business.

  The first time I played the Copa was in 1952; I was on the bill with the great Joe E. Lewis. He was a special man; he was so wonderful to me. I was just starting out and very naive at the time; Joe was already a superstar in the nightclub ci
rcuit. Joe would ask me how the audience was before he went on and I’d say they were a little noisy on that side or they were talking during the act and he’d say, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” He also gave me some tips on how to handle the audience that I still use to this day. I mentioned to Joe that after the engagement I was going to work in Dallas and Houston. He was such a gentleman that he wrote to the reviewers ahead of my visit and told them how much he enjoyed my singing. That was all it took; the reviewers were great to me because of Joe’s letter. I’ll never forget that he was such a wonderful man to me, especially when I was just getting started in show business.

  Coming from Astoria, New York, and being a hometown boy, so to speak, I can’t explain what a thrill it was to play the Copa; it was really big-time. Sinatra, Martin and Lewis, Peggy Lee, Nat King Cole—all the greats played there. The Copacabana and the Paramount Theatre were the two great venues to work in New York in the 1940s and 1950s. The Copa was unique because it catered to the money crowd, the gangsters, and the regular people…just like New York.

  I remember plenty about Jules Podell. He was always a gentleman to me whenever I appeared at the club. I learned to talk with him before 3 P.M. if I had any questions because after that he’d start getting ready to open the club and began drinking and his mood might vary. He had a ring that he would tap on the table if he wanted to get the attention of his staff and everyone would jump when they heard that tap.

  I first played the Copa after I had a few hit records and was first starting out in the business. I hadn’t really learned how to perform yet; it takes about nine to ten years before you can become a consummate performer and learn how to adapt to the audience. That’s what regretful about today’s kids in the business, they don’t have the time or places to hone their crafts like my generation had years ago.

  For my annual engagements at the Copa I would have new orchestrations written by people like Neal Hefti, Don Costa, Marion Evans, and Torrie Zito. I tried to do the material I had just recorded or was about to record. I remember doing an engagement at the Copa in early 1958 that featured famous musicians Herbie Mann, Candido, and Sabu because we had just recorded the album The Beat of My Heart and I wanted to feature some of that material in the show. Once I established myself, I played the Copacabana regularly for almost twenty years. The Copa would book me a lot for prom season—that was one of the busiest times of the year for them. It was great because my shows all got wonderful reviews and whatever entertainers were in New York at the time would stop by to catch our show. I always made it a point to introduce the visiting celebrities to the audience sometime during the show.

  The house band at the Copa was always good, but like other acts, I’d bring along key members of my group and usually had Ralph Sharon with me on the piano.

  The shows at the Copa were actually like revues—the Copa Girls would open the show and a comedian and then a headliner usually followed them. It was wild because you’d have to do two or three shows per night. If you did three shows you wouldn’t get out until four in the morning and you’d be numb.

  Besides other fellow entertainers who would come by and see the show, the audience seemed to be made up of Jewish and Italian mobsters on the weekends.

  Then the whole era of nightclubs began to die—there were so many places to play, but in the late 1960s things began to change. Many of the clubs couldn’t compete with the salaries the casinos in Las Vegas were offering to entertainers. Times changed and people would be content to stay at home and be entertained by watching television. It was the end of an era. the Copa was glamorous.

  The Copa was very intimate; it was basically a saloon. Frank Sinatra would say he and I were saloon singers. Clubs like the Copacabana were the greatest school for learning how to perform. It teaches you how to be very flexible since anything can happen. There can be all kinds of upsets: either someone is drunk and disrupts the whole audience, or a tray drops. All kinds of incongruous things can happen in a club because you are battling people who want to dance, who may have a business deal going…all kinds of interludes besides the actual performance going on. It takes about ten years to learn how to deal with these things because every night is different; you never know what’s going to happen, so you have to quickly adjust to what the scene is that evening.

  Me with a friend, Tony Bennett, and my cousin Natalie. Tony was also an audience favorite at the Copa. My father was a big fan of Tony’s from the beginning of his career.

  Me with Teddy Randazzo; I had a huge crush on him at the time. Teddy had some success as a singer but is mostly known today as being a very prolific songwriter.

  Comedian Buddy Hackett dances with me as my mother looks on. This was during one of the many Sunday nights that my mother and I would go to the club for dinner and to see the show.

  Buddy Hackett, my father, and Billy Martin with an unidentified couple at the club.

  Eydie Gorme’s opening night at the Copa in September 1965. Tennessee governor and Mrs. Frank Clement along with Gorme’s husband, Steve Lawrence, congratulate her after the show.

  Steve Lawrence, unidentified man, Eydie Gorme, and my father toast another successful engagement at the club.

  Joe Soldo, a musician who worked many of Bennett’s Copa engagements, recalls, “One time, during closing night, Tony was so happy with the engagement and the band that he had the waiters serve champagne to the musicians. After Tony’s last number, the waiters came up onstage and gave us all a glass of champagne; that was something special because the musicians were usually treated like second-class citizens by the staff at the Copa, but Tony looked out for us…always.”

  Miss Peggy Lee and me. Peggy was another one of my father’s favorite performers—she always put on a great show.

  Peggy Lee

  “Her regal presence is pure elegance and charm”—so said Frank Sinatra of Peggy Lee. Lee was a staple at the Copa for many years, and her talent was a perfect fit for the club’s patrons.

  In her autobiography, Miss Peggy Lee, Peggy remembered her days at the Copa and Jules Podell with fondness.

  The Copacabana…I played it many, many times. It was a spectacular place and part of the reason for that was the way Jules Podell, the boss-man, ran his business. Jules used to say in his gruff voice, ‘The mirrors are always clean at the Copa.’ In fact, the whole club and the kitchen were always clean. I can’t say that for the dressing room in the Hotel Fourteen next door, but the Copa itself was kept in top-drawer condition. All of the men, maître d’s, captain and all, wore immaculate tuxedos and their shoes were shiny. The world-famous Copa Girls were known less for their dancing and more for their beauty. They would walk with their hands up and fingers extended as though they were drying fresh nail polish. Doug Coudy, the choreographer, used to teach them to walk in this manner. Three times an evening they dried their nail polish as they walked around the floorshow.

  Phoebe Jacobs, a longtime friend of Peggy Lee, accompanied the singer to many of her Copa engagements. Jacobs recalled:

  I will say that Jules Podell treated Peggy beautifully when she appeared at the Copa. Peggy was on oxygen then and she used to get treatments, so she had to have the doctor come over from the hospital with the tank and all. It was a pain in the neck, but Jules went out of his way to see that things worked well and she was comfortable. Peggy did not like the fact that there were no dressing rooms on the premises of the Copa. The acts had to get dressed in rooms upstairs at the Hotel Fourteen, which was adjacent to the Copa. There was a service elevator that we used in the hotel and then a busboy would meet us and take us to an exclusive elevator that would take you down to the basement-kitchen area of the Copa.

  So once you got out of the elevator you had to walk through the kitchen to get into the main room where they would announce you and then would go on the stage. Well, the problem was that Peggy used to have these voluminous gowns and they were frightfully expensive. In fact I remember one incident when Peggy was wearing a gown that I t
hink Don Lopez made her and it cost maybe a thousand or fifteen hundred dollars. So when Peggy had to pass through the kitchen Jules Podell had all the busboys and all the service stopped and everything else for her to go through without ruining her gown. Jules would yell, “Here she comes, here she comes.”

  Peggy Lee continued: “Jules was relatively short and strongly built. His neck was short; in fact, he seemed almost all of one piece, one solid muscle. He drank a lot, but he always knew exactly what he was doing. If Jules wanted attention, he would knock his big ring on the table and everyone would come running. Tough? They don’t come any tougher!”

  Jazz pianist Mel Powell recounted the following story in Lee’s autobiography:

  Once when Peggy was playing the Copa, she was having a big birthday party after the show for Jules Podell. It was a pretty elite mob, including Tony Bennett and Sammy Davis. They were all at a long table with Peg and friend of mine, including Nick, the Africanologist, and his wife. It was the early morning hours and the joint was officially closed. We were having drinks, food, a lot of laughs and birthday greetings, and a band was playing off in an anteroom. Nick, the Africanologist, was absolutely bagged, and when he heard the band, he wanted to go into the anteroom. Nick, a big guy, knew his way around. Suddenly he was a little assertive, there was a commotion, and he came stomping back. Out of the woodwork stormed Jules’s boys. This was a tough joint. It was like a George Raft movie, with all the boys in tuxedos. They encircled Nick. Nick was about to be undone when Peg spotted him. She got into that circle and identified him as a friend of hers, faster, more sober, and more serious than anyone had ever seen. Probably saved the guy from a bad beating. After all, they were protecting Peg, but she said to back off. For Nick, the protocol against letting yourself be shoved was tough to overcome. Peg had called Jules, and when he came into the center of the guys, she said, “The man doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just drunk.” Peg was the one. I didn’t see anyone else pay much attention. When action needed to be taken, that dame is going to take it.