In the late '50s ,and until their demise around the mid '60s, record hops were the place to go on a Friday or Saturday night. You could hear good music being played loudly on a 45 rpm record player and, as an added attraction, girls were there. In fact, if one was unfortunate enough to attend an all boys school, they were the best place to meet members of the opposite sex.
I first started going to record hops in the '50s. The elementary school a couple blocks from my house had one every Saturday night in their gymasium. They called it the Northwood Rec. I'm sure they had no choice but to put it in a gym. But a gym smells of old sweat socks naturally. The smell seeps into the floor and walls and can't be removed by any means. Add to this that in order to keep the floor scuffless, we had to remove our shoes upon entering and you had one smelly room.
Back then we didn't mind that much. It was a small price to pay for the entertainment. My brother and I actually met some of our closest friends at that record hop.
Most of my friends, and I'll include my brother and I, were cheap as could be. Any money we couldn't extract from our parents we'd try to bum from either other friends or complete strangers. We weren't proud. And some of us would go to reckless, even dangerous means, to save a buck (or in most cases less).
The following is the story of how my brother met one of our closest friends.
We were at the Northwood Rec gym when my brother excused himself to use the second floor bathroom. He was at the urinal relieving himself when he heard a commotion at the open window, twenty feet above the school grounds. He turned and was shocked to see a face staring in at him. The face then politely asked him for a helping hand.
My brother quickly completed his business, then went to the strangers aid. The stranger was a young man named Jon who, for the want of saving fifty cents, had climbed up the wall using an old rain spout.
My brother helped him through the window and we all became good friends for many years.
The Nothwood Rec gave way, in the early '60s, to another Saturday night record hop. This one was in a church hall and didn't smell. We also could wear shoes in this one, except after recent floor waxings, which was good.
By the time of this hop, called the Northwood Appold Dance, we had most of our gang in place. Most of us would enter through the front door, some through the rear windows. I guess thatwas out of habit because, as far as I remember, that dance was free.
Once inside, we'd leave our coats and jackets in the coat room by the entrance, then walk down a short flight of stairs to the hall.
Back then, the girls and guys were always kept separated unless dancing. The boys on one side of the hall, the girls on the other. That was fine with us. Most of the guys in our crowd were shy and probably would have ignored the girls even if they stood right beside them. The other thing was that we were quite the mischief makers back then, and I doubt many of the girls would have stood for it.
I regret saying that most of the guys I knew smoked in those days. At this dance, once you were inside you stayed in. If you went outside for any reason, during the course of the evening, the door would lock behind you. So we'd take our smoke breaks in the men's room.
At one point, an elderly lady named Miss Tilly, who had been given the unenviable task of controlling us, walked by the hallway men's room. She noticed smoke billowing out from under the door and assumed the place was on fire. Upon opening the door to investigate, about ten teenagers stampeded out while others screamed in embarassment.
On another occasion someone turned the sink spigots on and clogged the drain causing a flood. Toilet paper rolls would constantly find their way into the bowls. Messages, written in soap, would appear regularly on the mirrors.
Such was the burden poor Miss Tilly, and her helpers, had to bear.
At the end of the evening we were all assembled for what was called the fellowship circle. We would join hands around the elderly volunteers for prayer and reflection. At least that was the original intent of the ritual. It soon became a way for Miss Tilly to call out and acknowledge suspected culprits then verbally humiliate them for their sinful ways.
At one dance, during the winter, a few of us left a couple minutes early (probably to avoid the fellowship circle). We were putting on our coats in the coat room when we noticed the different styles and fashions on display there. We began sorting through the apparel and trying on coats until we found one we liked. Then we'd exchange it for the one we wore in.
The members of our gang, who weren't at the dance, were so impressed by our selection that they went to the hop the following week just to get a better coat.
This became a regular thing after a while. Everybody ended up doing it. Every week a bunch of guys would get an early start for the coat room. Invariably, as fate would have it, you ended up, at some point, with your original coat. What goes around comes around (I think that was a fellowship circle quote).
We did enjoy the record hops and dances. For a while it seemed like every church and recreation hall was having them. And most of the time we did behave and even, on rare occasions, danced.