Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The Broadmoor Apartments













I ran across an old brochure from the Broadmoor Apartment Building last week. My grandfather, Roger Calvert was the first manager when it opened,  just before the financial crash in October. The Broadmoor is still a great place to live, but the olden days always sound so much more charming to me. Here are quotes from the booklet with comments and memories from my mother Bebe who lived there when she was 11 years old.

“On Connecticut avenue north of Porter street is the attractive apartment section of Washington. Here within a landscaped five acre setting of garden and flower decked promenades is erected THE BROADMOOR, an imposing edifice expressing the acceptable in modern architecture and fireproof construction. Within its 800 rooms are maintained the lovely apartment homes of lovely people.”

A lot of the Senators, the baseball kind, lived here, too. Bebe remembers going to games with her dad at Griffith Stadium, and all of the excitement when the team went to the World Series in 1933. Somewhere along the way legendary pitcher  Walter Johnson became friends with her father Roger.  That's Roger on the far left and Mr. Johnson on the far right.


She also remembers Huey Long arriving to stay with a great big entourage that scared my grandmother.




“Dining Room and Silver Grill: Decorated in the moderne.... The food is of the highest quality, and prepared by a particular chef who caters successfully to particular people.”

Here is the “dollar menu” from those days:

Choice: Fruit Cup- Iced Cantaloupe- Consomme Hot or Cold- Strained Chicken Gumbo-Iced Celery

Choice: Filet of Sole, Saute Meuniere- Fried Chicken with Corn Fritters- Grilled Sirloin Steak-Assorted Cold Cuts, Potato Salad
Sherbet
French Fried Potatoes New Peas in Butter
Green Corn Saute O’ Brien
Hearts of Lettuce Thousand Island Dressing
Choice: Green Apple Pie Fresh Peach Shortcake
Chocolate, Vanilla, Peach Ice Cream Raspberry Ice

Homemade Rolls

Tea Milk Coffee


Bebe had never had sherbet before and was very impressed with that- especially since it was not served as a dessert.

“All Apartments have outside porches and windows overlooking the garden of the Broadmoor or famous Rock Creek Park.”

Bebe remembers her little Roger hanging by his fingers from their window on the sixth floor, overlooking the garage.

"Most important to Milady:
All apartments have been designed to provide the utmost in comfort, and to eliminate home- making responsibilities to unusual degree...Waste from the kitchen and apartments is placed in receptacles, and noiselessly removed in the early morning by janitors from corridors outside apartments.”


A certain pet rabbit with a voracious appetite for undergarments was "noiselessly removed" and sent to live downstairs where the bellboys took care of him. Later, he reportedly lunged at a bellboy and was not seen again.

“Schools: The Broadmoor is close to all educational centers.”

Mom loved the private little bus that took the children to John Eaton.

“Beauty Shop: Within the Broadmoor. All approved treatments, and scientific care.”

Bebe got her first cool haircut called "The Windblown" here and left behind the detested "Dutch Bob"
of earlier years.


“Children’s Paradise: A play estate supreme, away from mere grown-ups, and in a wooded setting among wonder-trees and fairy verdure....Here the commanders of the sand pile, see-saw and swing develop to become the kind of men and women the world relies upon.”

That may have been all well and good, but Bebe remembers mostly hanging out on the beams underneath the building with her pals. One particularly noteworthy commander of that sandbox was John Hechinger. He grew up following his father into the hardware biz and had an early impact on Washington’s do it yourself hardware scene.



The Broadmoor also boasted a valet service, a laundry, a pastry shop, and a newsstand where Bebe hung out and read all the magazines for free. She also got movie passes for the Avalon Theater. She and Roger would take a picnic and ride the streetcar to spend the day at the movies. She also met my father when a friend brought some fellows over after school one day, but that's another story.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Pre TV in Washington D.C.


Every time I go to the movies these days, I find myself paralyzed in front of the concessions. My feeble and admittedly geeze-ing brain refuses to take in the current rate of exchange of currency for sustenance. Five dollars for a soda ? And that yellow stuff that goes on the popcorn? Seriously. What is that?



Yes, things have technically improved since I was a kid, but back in the days of the movie palaces, going to see a film was an extraordinary experience. My parents, Bebe and George, remember paying 15 cents for a whole day of entertainment.

Here's a visual glimpse of Washington DC's movie scene from local film maker Jeff Krulik.

 In 1925 when Bebe was eight and her little brother Roger was four, they would free range to the Tivoli at 14th and Park Road every Sunday and spend the whole afternoon in the theater.





Her favorites were the Westerns because she “loved watching all those horses run around.” She says Tom Mix was popular, but personally she didn’t think he was all that cute.


She also has a hazy memory of walking with her dad from Mozart Place to the Ambassador Theater on 18th and Columbia Road to see Al Jolson in the first "talkie"in 1928.

George remembers the three theaters near him on H Street NE: The Princess, The Apollo and The Empire. They were smaller, plainer theaters, but he could walk to all of them. He caught all the great silent films with Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton and remembers the piano player creating the mood. He also was into Tom Mix and all those horses.

The Apollo from Library of Congress
When Bebe moved to the Broadmoor Apartments in Cleveland Parkin 1929, she hit the jack pot getting free passes to the Avalon Theater on Connecticut Avenue. Bebe and Roger would take a lunch, get on the streetcar (or strap on their roller skates) and spend the whole day on the theater, especially in the summer, when more houses were one of the few places in town with air conditioning.

Meanwhile George had moved uptown to Macomb Street in Cleveland Park in 1928. He offset the cost of  his "new" car, a used Model T,  by charging his sister Catherine and her friends Rose Papadeis and Julia Kekenes a quarter each to drive them downtown to the Earle on 13th Street which later became  the Warner Theater.
George and Rose on Macomb
Bigger venues like the Warner's might have had a live vaudeville show before the movie and charged a whopping 35 cents.


Bebe remembers seeing Cab Calloway at the Capitol which was around the corner from the Earle near 14th and F Street in the National Press building. In 1963, when the Capitol closed,  George’s buddy, Blackie Auger bought some of the theater's furnishings for his restaurant Blackie's House of Beef including wrought iron balustrades and a large painting of Cupid. According to his wife Lulu's memoir, when Blackie was sixteen, burning a hole in Cupid's belly button with a cigarette seemed like a good idea at the time. He bought the painting and hoped to make amends with his conscience by having it restored.

Bebe and George say the film that made the biggest impression on them was "Gone With the Wind." At that point, they were a very young married couple with two small children. Getting out to see a show was problematic. Sometimes they would steal away after the children were asleep which may have worked occasionally, but legend has it that my brother and sister woke up hungry once and decided to fix themselves grilled cheese sandwiches. In the toaster.