Roslindale Op/Ed Http://TownOnLine.com
Hank Brandli grew up in Roslindale, MA and now lives in Melbourne,
Fla. He will be sharing his memories of his hometown with Transcript readers
over the next couple of months. He can be reached at hbrandli@spacey.net
May 09, 2002
By Hank Brandli
Guest Columnist
Debutante parties are lavish
affairs usually held at country clubs to celebrate a girls 18th birthday year;
being introduced into
society.
Three or four times a summer,
Don, Dave, and I were asked to work with other club staff and professionals at
the main clubhouse as
waiters, champagne servers, bartenders, dishwashers, liquor off loaders, etc
for these debutante parties and we got paid $15.00 for the night from 7pm till
almost dawn. We also got a lot of extra food plus other goodies such as extra
liquor split between us. These parties were an education in a life I never
knew.
I can still see the men in
their coat of arms emblazoned jackets, lavishly gowned women from 18 to 90,all
drinking champagne from piped stem glasses taken off my large silver elliptical
tray. The lights would dim, the band would drummmm roll late in the evening as
we paraded around and served flaming baked Alaskan.
The scenes at those elaborate affairs
were like something out of “The Great Gatsby”.
One night, four girls “came
out” at a cost of $10,000.00. Workers constructed a huge tent over part of the
polo field. Ruby Newmann’s band played and Jane Morgan of “Fascination”- hit
song of the time, and a family friend
of one of the girls coming
out, sang.
We showed up for work at 7pm
in black pants, sox, shoes, and black bow tie with white short sleeves shirt.
The club provided white
waiters jackets. Mr. Walter J. Underhill *, the club steward, rounded all the
workers up
in the front lobby stair
way before the festivities began
and said, ”No drinking before
midnight”.
I still smile thinking of Don
and me drinking champagne out of an ice bucket at 4 am while we munched on rock
Cornish game hen and washed a
ton of pots, pans, glasses, and dishes.
The next morning after an
hour of sleep, we were back on the golf course job. Walking behind and then
driving
the red International tractor
up the 18th fairway with huge waste
baskets in back was a sight. Passed out couples on the apron to the green and
then jumping up from the noise from tractor motor; picking up opened / unopened
champagne bottles plus other litter was a movie scene.
When I came around the
clubhouse this particular morning, there was Mr. Underhill in his shirtsleeves
directing clubhouse workers. He said, “Good morning, Henry”.
I said, ”Good morning.” Then, I commented, ”What extravagance and
waste such parties as last night were”.
(As I picked up more litter).
He strolled over to me,
looked me in the eye, and gave me a wonderful speech that I repeat to people
under the right circumstances to this very day.
Mr. Underhill said, ”Henry,
be happy and grateful that wealthy people spend lavishly on parties such as we
had
at the club last night; think
of all the people, you, band members, caterers, liquor distributors, food
services, tent installers, extra police, truckers, etc, etc that get money from
this “extravagance”; be ecstatic that some
rich people don’t keep all their money in the bank! ” It’s all
distributed ”.
I can still hear his
melodious voice and see his hands gesturing in the air. He was right. Beside
the 3rd tee next
to the tree line that
morning, I found a fancy crystalline bottle of
Seagrams crown royal in a little
velvet pouch, never opened. I brought it home to my dad. You would have thought
I gave him the keys to a brand new car. He savored every drop for months.
THE END
*A
few years ago, a feature article appeared in Sports Illustrated Magazine about
Tom Yawkey, multi-millionaire owner of The Boston Red Sox. In the piece, his
personal valet was mentioned- none other than Walter J. Underhill.