St. Paul Recorder

The Way I See It
By Nell Dodson Russell

Pretty little Frances Kirk of Minneapolis has pulled a miracle out of the show business hat. Less than a month out of what is politely referred to east of Chicago as "the sticks," Frances landed the role of understudy to the star of a Broadway hit show. It's strictly a Minnesota affair. Hilda Simms, of Minneapolis, is the star, and the play is "Anna Lucasta," the slightly corny opus which put Hildy at the top of the legit theatre ladder, and opens for its Chicago run on September 24. How, and when and where Frances entered the picture is still a mystery, but the fact remains, she entered it and without ever having set foot on a stage.

It only happens once in an age, but it DOES happen, Muriel Smith walked out of a Philadelphia record shop practically into big-time stardom in "Carmen Jones"; Glen Bryant changed the role of a juvenile delinquency expert on the New York police force for greasepaint and the part of "Husky Miller" in the same show. Napoleon Reed, the male lead, was unknown, as was Elton Warren, the talented lass who sings "Cindy Lou" so effectively. Nevertheless, Muriel had an eye on vocal stardom; Bryant had been doing minor concert and solo work around New York for quite some time, and Elton Warren was seriously studying voice.

Little Miss Frances just walked out of Minneapolis and into Broadway, with not so much as a line of publicity or previous notice. Success in show business usually comes the hard way, and is preceded by lean, discouraging days when the breaks all go in the wrong direction. This struggle and scuffle provides a protective armor for the future. There are pitfalls that one unwary in the ways of the Broadway world can easily stumble into. Unscrupulous agents with trick contracts, fast-talking wolves with propositions hidden in the bottom of a champagne or cocktail glass, the Gimme-Girls who fasten like leeches onto promising male newcomers—it's all part of the upward climb, but it puts a wealth of wisdom into the bewildered brains of ambitious kids who want to see their names in lights.

Once in a while somebody comes along and kicks over the traces with such startling suddenness none of the established rules apply. I, for one, hope Frances keeps her head out of the clouds, her feet on the ground, and continues onward to success in the show world.

SHORT ITEMS: First returned veteran to open a business in the Cities is Foster Brown, who has taken over Archie Cook's place on Chatsworth and Rondo in St. Paul. It couldn't happen to a nicer feller. I hope his pals and cronies will help him make a success by NOT asking him to put it on the cuff when their bankrolls get short just before pay day. More businesses have flopped in the first six months because well-meaning friends of the proprietor have come up with the "Put it on the cuff till payday, bud," stuff. Saturday afternoon, I dropped by and it looked like old home week to me. "Doc" George Barry grabbed me by the arm, rushed me over to a window, and pointed across the street. "See that?" he asked. "See what?" I asked right back because there wasn't anything in sight but a vacant lot. "That lot is where I'm going to build an apartment house," George whispered confidentially. What in heck is he waiting for? Harriet Thomas, John's wife, is back in town and in the market for a nice four or five room place—with a nursery for the blessed event scheduled for December. John no sooner got out of the Army and out from under his captain's bars than he was rushed off overseas as a welfare officer for UNRRA. To London and then to Germany, he goes... Lieut. Dick Allen, whom the Army definitely is NOT making sylph-like or streamlined, told me he'd be only too happy to shake the dust of these two towns from his boots when his furlough was up this week... Stafford Lott called to say the Missouri team which will meet the Gophers out at the Stadium Saturday afternoon, so far hasn't pulled any of that we-won't-play-cullud business. Well, Halleluja! And let's hope there won't be a change of heart before time for the kick-off. With both Lott and Alya Tabor in the Bierman aggregation, folks have been expecting some shenanigans. Incidentally, Tabor, the Fort Valley, Ga., boy, has been displaying some terrific razzle-dazzle in the Maroon and Gold backfield department. After not having been able to view the Gophers for a period of seven long years, I will be on hand Saturday a-rarin' for the whistle. I never could get interested in what the boys out East call football, and every year along about this time I'd get a homesick longing for good old Memorial Stadium... Speaking of football, will someone please get Glen Pullen's gridiron togs and hang 'em up over in the Bierman locker rooms! The South High boy will be a catch for every school in the Big Ten, and don't think they don't know it!... If you like your characters rugged and your atmosphere on the Bowery side, drop in at South of the Border on Washington for that bored feeling. You'll more than likely run into some of our best names. The bistro has a barmaid-waitress who sweeps the customers out with the rubbish and takes her gin straight... The boss just won't publicize all of the nice things said about our two papers, but I ain't so modest. I quote from the current issue of "The Minnesota Press," official publication of the Minnesota Editorial Association: "St. Paul Recorder was established August 10, 1934, by its present publisher, Cecil E. Newman, and is now an exceptionally well-edited and well-printed publication, 11 years old, and full of promise for many years to come." So there!

Typographical error in this space last week put the brawl between band leaders Claude Hopkins and Cab Calloway as "last week." Should have been "last month."... A few weeks ago I told musician, Ira Pettiford, I thought he ought to have his head examined for giving up a spot in Earl Hines' band to come back to this town where there isn't any future for our music men. Ira said he thought so, too, and that the next time a break on big time came along he'd take it and git. He leaves September 29, to join Eddie Vinson's crew in New York! Harold Booker ought to be the next one to pull up stakes and take his talent elsewhere. He's muffed two bigtime chances already by just not being interested... I don't know how Count Basie's press agent, Jim McCarthy, now a PFC in the Army, managed to track me down way out here, but he did, and I get the dope on Count straight from Jim each week. Wonder when he finds time to soldier, what with getting out Basie's publicity each week?... Some of the boys at Stillwater dropped me a fan note. Thanks for the nice words, boys, and let this little enforced vacation teach you a lesson. It isn't worth it, you know.