Following World War II, a unique social scene blossomed in Newark and its surrounding areas: the neighborhood nightclub. These weren’t the dazzling, large-scale venues of Manhattan like the Latin Quarter or the Carnival, but they offered their own distinct charm and entertainment. For those seeking a local night out, Newark’s dance clubs provided an accessible and lively escape.
These intimate venues typically featured a modest dance floor, the rhythmic pulse of a three-piece band, and a bar serving up alcoholic beverages alongside simple fare like sandwiches and hamburgers. The real draw, however, was the evening’s entertainment. Patrons could expect a variety show, perhaps showcasing a singer’s soulful voice, a dancer’s graceful moves, the mystifying tricks of a magician, or the playful dexterity of a juggler. Guiding the evening’s festivities was an emcee, whose role was crucial. A witty and engaging emcee could elevate the entire experience, keeping the energy high and the audience entertained between acts.
Most of these establishments operated with a two-drink minimum. It was a widely held suspicion that drinks were diluted, a practice likely designed to ensure profitability for the owners while keeping patrons from becoming overly intoxicated. This balance allowed for a lively atmosphere without excessive rowdiness, contributing to the neighborhood club’s appeal.
Among the memorable acts of the era were “The McFadden Bros.” This duo consisted of a larger brother strumming a ukulele and his smaller sibling playing the bull fiddle. Their act was particularly known for song parodies with a risqué edge. While today such humor might barely raise an eyebrow, in the conservative atmosphere of the late 1940s, their performances occasionally attracted police raids. Ironically, these raids often boosted the club’s popularity. The Saturday night after a raid, these clubs would be packed, suggesting a symbiotic relationship between law enforcement and club owners in creating buzz and drawing crowds.
One such venue, “The Band Box,” nestled behind Weequahic Park, was a small and often crowded spot renowned for its consistently good shows. One evening, the author and his wife were enjoying a night out there. When his wife mentioned the table light was bothersome, he turned it off, only to inadvertently trigger a comical scene. The house lights flared on, a spotlight focused on their table, and the show came to a halt. The emcee, seizing the moment, playfully interrogated them, making them the unexpected center of attention for the entire club.
“Club Miami” on Clinton Avenue held a special place in Newark’s nightclub history, famously hosting a performance by Jackie Gleason before he reached national fame. A local anecdote recounts an incident where Gleason, known for his robust personality, challenged a heckler to a fight. To Gleason’s surprise, the heckler turned out to be Tony Galento, the boxer who once faced Joe Louis in the ring, resulting in Gleason quickly being “flattened,” as the story goes.
In contrast to the show-centric clubs, some Newark establishments offered a more refined atmosphere focused on dancing. “The Roost” on Rector Street was a prime example. This fine eating place eschewed entertainment, cultivating an air of discreet elegance. Known for “not being known,” it became a haven for private rendezvous, a place where patrons sought anonymity as much as ambiance. Does anyone still remember the hushed exclusivity of The Roost?
For more vibrant entertainment, “The Parkway Cottage” on Heller Parkway was a lively destination, featuring Chang Lee and The Zaniacs. Broad Street boasted “The Silver Ball,” while the surrounding area was dotted with other notable clubs like “The Melody Club,” “The Peanut Bar,” and “The Ivanhoe,” each contributing to Newark’s diverse nightlife scene.
However, “The Hi Hat” in Bayonne seemed to be a particular favorite. Consistently featuring above-average emcees and entertainment, it became a regular Saturday night destination. The author reminisces about spending many evenings at The Hi Hat, drawn by its reliable quality and engaging atmosphere.
The late 1940s and early 1950s provided ample opportunities for “night clubbing,” including visits to some of the more upscale venues in both New Jersey and New York. Before any assumptions are made about the nature of these frequent visits, it’s important to consider the author’s “memories” of burlesque shows and taverns, hinting that many of these outings were actually work-related. Indeed, these “nightclub visits” weren’t just for personal pleasure. The author reveals that not only were expenses reimbursed, but he was also paid for his time. “How would you like to have a job like that?” he concludes, leaving the reader with a touch of envy and a glimpse into a unique professional life intertwined with the vibrant nightlife of Newark’s dance clubs.
