One of the benefits of membership in some of the more prestigious trial lawyer organizations is they like to go to various lovely areas, such as beautiful resorts or glamorous cities to hold their seminars and meetings, such as the American Board of Trial Advocates, known more familiarly by its acronym, ABOTA. The meeting place of one of the first meetings I attended was at a resort called the Greenbriar, which at the time of the Civil War was located in Virginia and later, after the war, became part of West Virginia. This resort consisted of a magnificent old Southern mansion divided into several suites, with a famous Southern dining area, and large grounds, holding three championship golf courses, with one called the Ryder Cup, designed by the famous champion golfer, Jack Nicklaus. Also, there were riding trails, walking paths, and tennis facilities, with indoor and outdoor courts surrounded by a trout stream for fly-casting enthusiasts. Just a marvelous place to meet, study and enjoy.
Going to these types of meetings satisfied my learning, plus I could meet with other attorneys for possible referrals. In other words, it was a win-win situation.
So when I mentioned this place to my wife, Maxine, she suggested, “Why not make it a trip to the East Coast as well?” I had never been further east than Minneapolis, Minnesota when I was ten, which I mentioned in earlier blogs, and in 1952, visiting relatives after taking the Bar Exam. I agreed.
Now I was born and raised in LA when it was not so large; my concept of New Yorkers was based on those who had migrated to California, and I did not hold them in high regard. They talked different, dressed different, and were in my view at the time very fast-speaking aggressive sorts, and I just didn’t like them and I did not want to go to New York City, but Max talked me into it. So the plan was: fly to Dulles Airport in Washington DC, rent a car and drive through Virginia up to the Appalachians into West Virginia to White Sulfur Springs, the home of the Greenbriar. After the meeting, then to Williamsburg, Washington DC, and then turn in the car and take the train to New York City, then home.
The trip was fascinating. Drive through the battle ground of the Battle of Bull Run also called by the Union Side the battle of Manassas, to the town housing side-by-side colleges, Washington and Lee and Virginia Military Institute. . We drove through the Shenandoah Valley, and saw the battle zones that were located in the valley. It was while walking on the VMI campus that I got my first “Ya’ll” greeting from a couple of cadets as they passed. Then through the mountain pass which reminded me of the movie “Deliverance.” Out of the forest on a lonely road, out of nowhere some character would on occasion appear. Scary. Arrived at The Greenbrier and I swear the porter at the front entry was right out of a Hollywood movie, the character who played Step and Fetchit in old movies was identical to this guy. This was the South, and servility was and is not my cup of tea, but that is the way it was. The wait staff looked like the characters in “Deliverance” and grunted the same. Ozark-bred I guess. The meeting went well and the return took us to Charlottesville, where we walked the lovely campus of the University of Virginia, founded by the first president of the school, Thomas Jefferson. Afterwards, we took a guided tour of Jefferson’s home, Monticello, a great experience. Didn’t know Jefferson brought back to the States ice cream from his European travels, as well as invented the “Dumb Waiter.” For those of you who are too young to know, the “Dumb Waiter” is a device that allows one to transfer meals from the kitchen floor up to the rooms on the upper floors by way of a pulley.
From there to Williamsburg, a grand experience and seeing how the settlers lived, functioned and maintained themselves during colonization of the great country.
Then to the Nation’s capitol. I should mention I was amazed by the size and width of the James River located in Jamestown and Williamsburg. It was nothing like I expected. Magnificent.
To get to DC, we crossed the Chesapeake on the longest bridge I have ever seen, drove into and through the town of Annapolis, home of the US Naval Academy and then into DC proper. What a magnificent place. One from the West Coast cannot appreciate the grandeur of the city. I was floored by its beauty, and its look of power with the awe-inspiring memorials, the museums and the National Mall. On the first day, walking towards the mall we came upon this lovely mansion, and Max said, “What a nice building.” I looked at her and said, “Honey, that’s the White House.” (We later toured the residence.) We did everything: Georgetown, The monuments. The Smithsonian, the Capitol… you name it. I had prearranged through our local congressman, Jerry Patterson, to be admitted to the US Supreme Court, also a great experience seeing the justices in action.
From DC, a short train ride to New York City. I should mention again growing up in the LA area, I was really a small town boy, as LA was a very small town before WWII, and the population growth after that changed it dramatically, and as a result, I will admit, I was not favorably impressed with New York and New Yorkers. The only reason for the visit was Maxine requested we include NYC in our itinerary. So we were now in the “Big Apple.”
We arrive in town, grab a cab to our hotel, located on Park Avenue around 46th street. I can’t remember its name, but at the time it was very popular, well-located and one of those places I discovered had a restaurant where the power brokers ate their power lunches. Got the room, unpacked and stepped outside to go to lunch. What a happening. With yellow cabs coming and going and I could see all the way to the Pennsylvania subway station. I was a Damon Runyon fan whose novels covered the NYC characters with interesting monikers and funny stories. I believe I have read every one of his stories, or if you don’t recognize the name, a Broadway play and subsequent motion picture, starring Marlon Brando and Fran Sinatra called “Guys and Dolls,” was based on Damon Runyon’s novels, and also one starring Shirley Temple called “Little Miss Marker,” which was the story about a little girl held as a marker by gangsters as collateral for a gambling debt. Such debts were called “markers.” The movie had a great cast and I suggest you Google both for a fun follow up. Anyway, the Stage Delicatessen was prominently featured in Runyon’s stories, so I just had to go there. Off we walked to find the deli and had trouble locating it. So what did I do? Well, while walking, we came across a kiosk that had papers, magazines and stuff. Up to the proprietor of this little establishment, I politely asked the man if he could direct me to the deli. “I sell “papahs.” you want to buy a papah?” he said. We made no headway with the guy, but did manage to find the Stage Deli. Ordered a Reuben Sandwich that came open-faced with a giant helping of corned beef, melted cheese and other stuff. Delicious! And over subsequent trips had nothing like it since, except at another Deli called the Carnegie, where I dined on subsequent trips. Both delis are no longer in existence, to everyone’s loss. Back to the hotel for a little rest and later to dinner.
Maxine had done some research and we made plans to dine at a very popular restaurant not far from the hotel called Christcella, again closed in 2011, famous for their steaks and maybe clientele, sort of “Godfather” types. We arrived, and were escorted to the bar area, which I later discovered was generally reserved for the primo customers. The waiter came by, and Maxine advised me that the waiter will tell you what’s on the menu; listen carefully and don’t ask him to repeat it. Sure enough the waiter recited real fast, I couldn’t grasp it all, so after Maxine ordered, I just said I’ll have the same. The meal was fantastic, great salad, baked potatoes with all the trimmings and just a huge steak, tender and savory. While we were dining, a tall large African-American guy bellied up to the bar accompanied by two white guys and proceeded to converse extremely loudly, to my annoyance. For some reason unknown to me, the three of them then decided to join our table and started a conversation with us. It turned out the tall guy knew his Shakespeare as well as I, so we bantered back and forth, quoting this and that. It was fun. Then I asked him where he went to school. Answer: Joliet (a State Prison in Illinois.) I go uh-oh, and, as it turned out he did do time, not at Joliet, but he did serve time for stomping a man to death. Anyway, we all talked so long, we closed the place that night, and it turned out the big tall guy was Don King, the famous boxing promoter who promoted fights with some of the best, such as Ali, Frazer, Foreman, Tyson and other great fighters, and the two white guys were with the Commerce Dept. under the Nixon administration. They took Max and me back to our hotel in their limo and that was my 1st day in NYC. Fell in love with the place and have returned many times, including the four years my daughter Julia attended Parsons School of Design, where she graduated with her degree in art and her teaching credential.
What a great city just to walk and see the sights: Central Park, the Staten Island Ferry, the fish market, the Bowery, Little Italy, Chinatown, 5th Avenue, Wall Street, the Villages, east and west the museums… I could go on and on, and maybe after I will do a blog just on my visits to New York and its environs, but this is enough for now.
Marshall
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