FEATURES HIGH GEAR, MARCH, 1977

THE CLEVELAND BAR SCENE-THIRTY YEARS AGO

Page 26

BY Codger

The bar scene in the late nineteen forties was small: Only three or four gay bars for men would be in business at the same time, although there were quite a number of such drink spots in the years of economic boom which followed the end of World War II.

A new bar would open, and everyone would flock to it, only to tire of it; and a few months later it would close its doors. Most gay bars were owned by straights and were adjoined to a straight bar or nightclub. And almost all were dark and cheaply furnished, some being little more than cleared-out storerooms.

An exception was the Cadillac Bar, located on E. 9th St., a door south of Euclid Avenue and opposite the Cleveland Trust Co. The Cadillac was clean, well-lit and comparatively well-furnished. It was a long, narrow room with the bar on your right as you entered and a banquet with tables to your left. I recall much biond leatherette and woodwork and also some rather good murals of tropical scenes.

Almost every night, seated around the curve at the far end of the bar, and nursing a drink while talking to her brother or some old friend, was Mrs. Gloria Lenahan, the owner. Mrs. Lenahan, a handsome woman with a pleasant drawl, was a little aloof from her customers. She ran the most strict liquor spot gay or straight in Cleveland and probably in the entire Midwest. Trouble was turned away at the door. Too loud a laugh or coarse talk, put you on the street. And the slightest hint of backtalk to the management meant banishment from the premises for months or even years.

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A jacket-and-tie code of dress was required of customers except on Sunday nights, when Mrs. Lenahan was absent. Another popular bar was located in the basement of Little Ted's Restaurant, on Superior Ave., opposite the Cleveland Public Library. Here things were more informal; Almost anyone was let into this large, dark room, and there was no dress code. Yet you had to watch yourself there; sometimes rather shady characters, such as shakedown artists, would turn up in the weekend crowd. Foolhardy gays in search of rough trade would sometimes drop in on Mac & Jerry's, not a gay bar, but a hang out of spotlaborer workers and minor hoods. At least two murders and countless near fatal beatings of gays have been traced to pickups at M & J's, which was on Superior Ave, opposite the Cleveland Hotel.

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Probably the most famous customer to enter M & J's was U.S. Undersecretary of State Summer Welles, who gained

considerable praise during World War II by his negotiating of reciprical trade agreements between the U.S. and South American nations. Perhaps Welles was negotiating some such agreement when Cleveland detectives found him in this notorious bar and escorted him across the street and up to his suite in the Hotel Cleveland. An hour later, back he was at M & J's; and Cleveland's finest had to launch another rescue operation.

Most of the other gay bars were run ostensibly as private clubs (sometimes you needed to produce a membership card at the door; sometimes not). Most had female impersonators as entertainers. I have not. checked on the current bevy, but thirty years ago impersonators were a dreary lot indeed; most were over made-up and under-talented. And the women they would invariably imitate were silly and foul-mouthed; just the type of female one tries to avoid meeting!

Mr. Lynn Carter, however, had a clean act. I first saw Carter in the backroom of the Musical Bar on Huron, where Publix Book Mart now is. Today, Lynn Carter imitates Channing and Diller; but thirty years ago he was a grande chanteuse in the style of

Hildegarde and Dietrich. Fresh out of Cleveland Heights High School and dressed in an expensive gown donated to him by Billie Holiday, Mr. Carter would sweep onstage, genteely wave a gloved hand at the audience, and lunch into "April in Paris" or "I'll Be Seeing You."

Another impersonator I recall was Mr. Kit Russell, who was billed as "the world's most beautiful impersonator," and what a good-looking woman he appeared! Yet any glamour was quickly dispelled in an effusian of one-and-a half entendre jokes; he also had a dismal habit of going into fits of tittering.

The most famous impersonator of thirty years ago was undoubtedly the legendary Titanic who, often, would play the East Coast, but sometimes would return to Cleveland, his native city. His songs were the standard impersonator-fare ("You've Got the Right Key Baby, but the Wrong Keyhole," and something about the artwork on a circus, tatooed woman), but he was really famous for his murderous sense of ridicule from which no person in the room was safe. Between sets, he would preside at a ring-side table, unleashing barbs at the other occupants. only an extreme masochist

would ever neckle a Titanic performance.

was

a

Titanic, in men's attire, was quite good fun, with a rather sly, but not hurtful, wit. When not working he great customer of gay bars, sometimes taking his mother along. I was saddened last year to hear of his death. I first saw Titanic in 1947 at the Viking Club, which was on E. 4th St., I believe.

If the professional entertainment was bad, the amateurs were unbelievably awful. Sunday afternoon was amateur time at the Hide-Out Club, an upstairs bar on Walnut St. Here male typests in Grandma's cast-off finery would take the stage, forget lyrics and flee in tears. And stockroom boys would take absolutely dreadful spills during their ballet-tap routines. One. I much enjoyed, was a short,

NGTF

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middle-aged man who would sing "Indian Love Call" part of it in the voice of Nelson Eddy, and part in the voice of Jeannette McDonald.

There were other gay bars in the downtown area during the late nineteen-forties, but most were desparation moves. As the post-war boom faded and the straights got married and moved to the suburbs, downtown bars would "go gay" for a month or two before finally being forced to close.

The real difference between the nineteen-forties and the nineteen-seventies is that thirty years ago most of us were in some sort of closet or other. The bars were really mere hunting grounds, not places you would go in to relax, enjoy a drink and talk with friends.

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