Both Sides of the Street

For roughly thirty years or so he kept Philadelphia quiet and respectful.

Later, after his wrongful death on 21 March, 1980, the FBI even made remarks that they knew who he was but never bothered him. He kept the hoodlums in control, they said. If the Italian families had problems, he would use his power to help them. He was like a political ward leader, he made everything possible for them, and captivated them with his quiet dignity.

In the late Fifties, the girlie joints in Philadelphia were really going strong, but, as far as I know, Bruno was only involved with three of them. The convention trade helped make Philadelphia a place to have fun. The town made money, the joints made money, and the conventioneers would tell you that they loved going to Philly to see the strippers and get fleeced. That was part of the fun, they said. Sounded a little goofy to me, but that's what they said. During the day, it was the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall, but at night, ah, the Philly nightlife.

Sid Brooks and Shelly Kravitz owned the Place Pigalle and Bernie Brown owned the Moulin Rouge, the two biggest of the bust-out joints. Big money. The bartenders made about a grand a week, and the girls, if they were good mixers, could do at least fifteen hundred to two G's a week. The joints themselves were the biggest con this side of the Mississippi.

The connotation was to make everyone think that they were whorehouses, but it wasn't so. If a girl was caught leaving with a customer, or John as we called them, it was like missing a convention. She was blackballed and never worked the East Coast again. All the club owners of every city knew each other. From Toronto to 52nd Street in New York to Race Street in Philly, and from the block in Baltimore all the way to Bourbon Street in New Orleans. Actually, Miami Beach started the first bust-out. It was the Place Pigalle, next to Murray Franklin's on Collins Avenue on the Beach that started with the champagne hustle.

In a way, I can understand why some of the visitors to the joints didn't mind getting fleeced. I read a book once about Fedor Dostoevsky, and he confessed to his wife about his gambling addiction in a letter. The letter was reproduced in the book, and he told his wife that he actually had an orgasm when he lost at gambling. Not winning, mind you, but losing. Wow, ain't that too much? I believe that’s the same kind of reaction that the suckers have for the girly joint operations.

Sid Brooks got his start in Philly as a bartender, sometime in the early Fifties. He was good and quickly learned his trade. What's more, he was a thief, and a good one. He started out in a fastpaced sailor bar in Center City Philly by the name of the Spigot Club, around 16th and Market Street, and lots of sailors went there. The story goes that while he worked there he somehow got into the joint after it was closed and drilled holes in the bar. Through those little holes he'd steal change by pushing the coins through them. And without being seen. Damn, if he had been interested in magic he would have become a master magician.

Sid also learned how to use the bar towel. While talking to the customer he would wipe the bar and scoop up loose change and bills by wiping the money onto the tray below the edge of the bar. The music was loud, so the dropping of the money couldn't be heard by the unsuspecting customer. The Spigot wasn't a fancy bar that made mixed drinks, mostly shots and beer.

Sid made enough money so he eventually wound up with his own bar in North Philly. It was called the Cumberland Bar, and was just a corner operation. Nothing fancy. Again, mostly for the folks who lived around Cumberland Street, it was just shots and beer.

It was there that he made friends with a union officer, by the name of Bernie Brown, from the docks. The docks in Philly in the Fifties were a tough place, just like the movie that Marlon Brando made, On the Water Front. Sid Brooks and Bernie Brown soon became fast friends, with Sid knowing how to run a bar and Bernie wanting to learn. They started hearing about a new type of bar operation starting in downtown Philadelphia called bust-out, and they heard that there was lots of money in it. Just hearing about all that money to be made from that kind of new operation had them drooling. They just had to get into that.

Philly had only one joint running bust-out at that time, and it was being done by a guy named Sid Mass. Brooks and Bernie went to Mass and asked how they could get involved. Well, old Sid Brooks had a reputation from the Spigot Club and Mass didn't want any part of Brooks working his place. But all three of them were Jewish, they were from the same general neighborhood, and were quintessential Philadelphians, so they had a friendly meeting. At lunch one day, Sid Mass told both of them that they had the talent to operate, but, of course, had to learn the ins and outs of the business. He directed them to a friend who owned the Place Pigalle in Miami Beach. Bernie Brown didn't want to leave just then as he had a wellpaying job with the union as the boss, but Sid packed his bags and down to Miami he went.

Again, like his days at the Spigot, he learned.