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.
My parents on a golf outing with two friends.
My mother and I performed this ritual from the time I was four years old until I was about sixteen. I saw hundreds of shows and entertainers, so after a while it was no big deal. You name the celebrity and we saw him or her because every Sunday night we had to go to the Copa. Frankie Laine, Johnny Ray, Billy Eckstine, Eddie Fisher, Paul Anka, Martha Raye, Tony Bennett, etc…. there weren’t too many we missed. My mother still went even after I had stopped going. Mother loved the attention she received as Mrs. Jules Podell and being seen in the club with various celebrities; it was all very glamorous. Her favorite performers were Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole; she also enjoyed Dean Martin, Tony Bennett, and Jimmy Durante.
In 1947, Copacabana, a movie that starred Groucho Marx and Carmen Miranda, was released. The comedic plot involved Groucho as agent Lionel Q. Deveraux, who represents only one client, Carmen Novarro, played by Miranda. Lionel gets Carmen to perform at a club called the Copacabana, as both a Brazilian and a French singer, which is the basis for the comedic situations in the film. Several well-known newspaper columnists of the day, such as Earl Wilson and Louis Sobol, had cameos in the motion picture. Incidentally, Monte Proser would be credited as a producer on the film. That would be one of the last times Proser’s name would significantly be linked with the Copacabana.
Carmen Miranda headlined the Copacabana in April 1947, several months before the movie was set to premiere in New York, as a marketing ploy to promote the film. Miranda included songs from the movie as part of her nightclub act. The movie did respectable business during the first few weeks of its release but was not what you would call a blockbuster in terms of ticket sales, and today it has all but been forgotten.
My father playing the vibes while sitting in with the band.
At the same time, radio host Jack Eigen began broadcasting live from the lounge at the Copa. Eigen would interview celebrities nightly, usually from 1 to 4 A.M. on WINS. This exposure would serve to enhance the Copacabana’s image as the most famous nightspot in all of New York. The lounge at the Copa was advertised with the slogan “The Later the Greater, Now There’s a Late Show in the Copa Lounge.” The official Copa handbill described the scene in the lounge as follows: “All through the night you’ll delight in the fabulous food and drink, the bright words and music, served up in the town’s favorite meetin’ house, the Copa lounge. But along about ten-ish, the place really starts jumping as the famous stay-outs drop in with their pin-ups. The fun starts with a great show, featuring many of the stars from the Copa’s current production, but with so much talent in the audience, it usually winds up as a wonderful surprise party. And you’re invited!”
Rip Taylor recalls the lounge scene at the Copa: “The
most fun place to be was the upstairs lounge between shows. The lounge had a trio of musicians playing and the headliners and comics would get up and perform in between shows. Bobby Darin loved hanging out in the lounge, and if a fight broke out, Bobby would try and calm everyone down; it was hysterical. The lounge was packed every night before and after the shows.”
According to record executive Danny Kessler, “The lounge at the Copa was also good place to go hang out and see friends. There was a trio playing music, and late in the evening Jack Eigen would do a radio broadcast from his booth. Executives from the entertainment world would always be there for social and business reasons; prices for the food and drinks were very reasonable. We were always treated exceptionally well by the staff, and the Copa lounge was just a very fun place to spend an evening out in those days.”
The exact details and facts remain unclear, but by 1950 almost all traces of Monte Proser would vanish from the Copacabana. My father was now the one with his name on the awnings, menus, ashtrays, matchbooks, ads, etc…. Everything and anything that had to do with the Copa now had to do with Jules Podell. Rumor had it that Frank Costello was unhappy with Proser and decided my father should be the boss without interference from anyone since he was doing such a successful job running the entire operation.
Since I was only five years old in 1950, I never knew or heard about Monte Proser. As far as I knew, my father was in charge of the Copacabana and I never questioned how or why; it was just a fact. My mother once told me that my father owned the club along with Jack Entratter. Jack was a close friend of my father’s and our family. My father and Jack started the Jules Podell Foundation together, which exists to this day.
Occasionally, there would be stories in the press about the Copa and that led to classmates at school saying that my father was a gangster. I’d reply, “You’re crazy.” If I asked my mother she would answer, “Don’t be silly, your father is not a gangster. The Copa is a public place and anybody off the street can walk in.” Her explanation made sense to me. I once asked her about Frank Costello because his name surfaced in the papers regarding the Copa and my father. Mother just said that Frank Costello was a very nice gentleman. Costello was obviously involved with the Copa and my father, but that had no effect on me. I don’t remember Frank but I remember his girlfriend because she baby-sat for me once or twice. Years later, I recall my mother laughing when Frank Costello’s name was mentioned on a television show we were watching. I asked her why she was laughing and she said, “Don’t you remember so-and-so? She use to babysit you…well, she was Mr. Costello’s girlfriend.” All I could remember was that his girlfriend was very pretty and nice to me as a child.
The only other time I ever heard my mother mention so-called gangsters was when she said that the biggest gentlemen in the whole world are “connected.” My mother told me, “You know, those Mob guys, they really know how to treat a lady, and the biggest gentleman I ever met was Frank Costello.” She also added that Nat King Cole was a real gentleman to her whenever they met, although Nat Cole obviously was not connected to the same element as Frank Costello.
The 1950s would be a very good decade for the Copacabana, but things didn’t start off that well. During April 1950, Frank Sinatra was playing an engagement at the club, and while his popularity had recently declined, he still was a huge draw at the Copa. On Wednesday, April 26, Sinatra was unable to sing because he suffered a throat hemorrhage at the start of his performance. Singer Billy Eckstine subbed for Sinatra, who was forced to cancel the remaining shows of his engagement.
In 1952, Jack Entratter, who was now listed as the general manager of the Copa, among other things, packed up his family and headed to Las Vegas. Entratter was summoned and asked to be the entertainment director of a new hotel casino in the desert city—the Sands. It was an offer he could not refuse. The powers that be behind the Sands had also enlisted Jackie Friedman of Texas to front as the president of the new venture. I was told that Dad bought out Jack’s share of the Copa and thus became the sole owner of the club.
Entratter had established relationships with many of the stars who had played the Copa through the years and enlisted them to join the roster of entertainment headliners at the new Sands Hotel and Casino. Jack, with permission, even named the showroom the Copa Room, and put together his own group of Copa Girls. There were no problems between the Copa in New York and the Sands since the hotel casino was a joint enterprise run by the Genovese family and the Chicago Outfit. You could say it was all in the family, so to speak.
“I left the Copa and New York in 1952, the same time that Jack Entratter left. Jack asked me and a few other girls in the line to move to Las Vegas and open the Copa Room at the Sands. I did move to Las Vegas and worked at the Sands as a Copa girl, but it was different. Las Vegas back then was really a small town and not very sophisticated, worlds apart from New York. If you were a Copa Girl in New York, it was prestigious; people would approach us for an autograph because we were the best there was. Being a Copa Girl in New York City, you really felt like you were somebody special and it was an honor. Being a Copa Girl in Las Vegas was an honor but did not have the same cachet,” says Lynn Kessler.
In 1953, Frank Sinatra became the main attraction at the Sands in Las Vegas once his contract at the Desert Inn had expired. Sinatra was happy to join his friend Jack Entratter and perform at the new hotel casino. Together, Entratter and Sinatra would turn the Sands into the number one hotel on the Las Vegas strip—the one place in town where everyone wanted to stay and play whenever they visited the city. Today, Jack Entratter is considered one of the greatest entertainment directors in the history of Las Vegas. Entratter’s knowledge, personality, connections, and hard work helped turn Las Vegas into the entertainment capital of the world.
The Sands remained the crown jewel in Las Vegas for several decades until Howard Hughes came to town on a buying spree. In 1996, the Sands was imploded to make room for the Venetian Hotel. Although the structure is long gone, the Sands will forever be synonymous with Las Vegas and the city’s golden era before corporations took over the town and megaresorts sprang up.
I remember being sad when Jack Entratter and his family moved west since they were always over at our house for holidays and parties. During those times, I would play with his daughters and liked them very much. I really loved Jack’s wife, Dorothy; she was a free spirit. She was blonde and beautiful; she looked like she could have been a Copa girl. Dorothy was the closest thing to a friend my mom ever had besides Ethyl Som. I remember my mother being in shock when Dorothy told her she’d had a boob job. She couldn’t believe it, and Dorothy put my mother’s hand on her breast to feel it. Breast implants were rare back then.
The Copa Girls
Besides its standing among top nightclubs, the Copa was also becoming known as the place for casting agents and movie producers to find new talent. In 1947, the now long-defunct Pageant magazine did a profile on this very subject.
In the past six years a New York nightclub called the Copacabana has attained a unique position in the entertainment world. Highly successful in its own right, it also has come to be regarded as one of the nation’s top showcases for potential Hollywood talent.
Among “Copa” dancers, singers, and other performers to hit the celluloid trail are crooner Perry Como, hoofer June Allyson (now the pride of MGM), comedian Jimmy Durante (who began a sensational comeback at the Copa). Others include many a name that the public knows, or will know. Talent scouts, producers, executives follow Copa shows as they follow no other nightclub in the U.S.
Obviously, this is not deliberate Copa policy. Rather, it is the result of a singularly successful approach to entertaining the average nightspot customer. Where most clubs focus on socialites or Broadwayites or tourists, the Copa cuts across the board. Faintly Latin American in decor and atmosphere, it bases its appeal on good food and liquor, excellent dance music (by two orchestras) and a lavish floorshow.
The show is the crux of the mat
ter. Changed four times a year, it is produced with the care and glitter of a Broadway revue. Costumes alone cost up to $30,000. Each show has a special musical score (typical recent hits: “No Can Do,” “The Coffee Song”). Headlined performers draw headline-worthy salaries: comedian Joe E. Lewis, $5,000 a week; singer Tony Martin, $6,500. Show girls receive $100 a week the year-round-highest regular rate in the country.
The Copa is the only New York night spot to put on three shows a night, seven nights a week. Its late (2:00 am) performance has become a rendezvous for talent around town. Often customers are entertained, impromptu by such “name” guests as Frank Sinatra, Orson Welles, Dinah Shore.
Net result: in a room seating 650, the Copa averages more than 7,500 customers a week, a weekly take of more than $50,000.
Legendary nightclub entertainer Jimmy Durante holds court at the club after one of his performances.
My cousin, Jackie, dressed as a waiter and flanked by the world famous Copa Girls.
Some speculate that even more than the headliners, the main attraction at the nightclub was the Copa Girls. Originally billed as the “Copa Babies” or “Samba Sirens,” the Copa Girls would become world famous. The Copa Girls were regarded as the most beautiful showgirls in all of New York. In the first few years of the club’s existence, the girls would be introduced to the audience by their own theme song, “You Just Can’t Copa with a Copacabana Baby.”
In addition to beauty, the major requirement was a girl’s ability to dance any number that was incorporated into the current Copa revue. Normally, the average age of the girls was twenty years old. Youth was a prerequisite, since the girls had to perform a total of twenty-one shows per week. The girls did not have much time in between shows to do anything except to grab a bite to eat. Rehearsals for the revues would usually take four to six weeks before it would debut in front of a paying crowd.
The Copa Page 3