1975 Kutsher's Country Club

at Kutschers swimming pool in the Summer of 1975.

After having stayed in S.Paulo for 2 years I thought it was about time to have another go and headed back to the States to catch up where I had left off. 

It was really painful to realize there's no such a thing as a 'second time around' and I learned it the hard way. I thought I would go back to the same job at the record factory. Things had moved on and I was sort of lost - all by myself - in a room I'd rented in Columbia Street, Newark with my cassette-stereo playing  'Love will keep us together' with Captain & Tenille, #1 at Billboard.

Billboard's Top Five on 5 July 1975

1. Love will keep us together - The Captain & Tenille

2. The Hustle - Van McCoy & The Soul City Symphony

3. Listen to what the man said - Paul McCartney & Wings

4. Love won't let me wait - Major Harris

My old friends and acquaintences in Newark, N.J. were all gone or had moved on to better things. Guto had married Rose Nevoso and was living in Englewood, Northern New Jersey, in the same house as Rose's parents, far away from old Brick Town! Damazio was back in Brazil. Everyone I knew in the record factory had moved somewhere else.  

I phoned Guto and told him I had brought a gift from his sister Alice from São Paulo; she lived on Avenida Brigadeiro Luiz Antonio, two blocks passed Av. Paulista heading towards Ibirapuera. He said he'd meet me after work; he'd drive his car from Englewood to Newark around 5:00 pm. I waited for his car outside my boarding place on Columbia Street. Rose came along with him. Guto introduced her and I knew instantly Rose was a special person. I gave Guto his sister's packet and they invited me to go back with them and visit their place which was in a leafy neighbourhood starkly different from barren Newark.

Guto drove, Rose sat on his side and I stayed in the back seat. We would not stop talking during the drive north. The radio was constantly on and I remember distincly well Paul McCartney's 'Listen to what the man says' playing along. Rose mentioned that some of their friends would go and see Paul, Linda & Wings at some stadium in N.J. very soon. I had an idea everyone of their friends was either married or in a relationship.    

That's when I realized Rose was a pop culture freak. She knew a lot about rock bands, Motown hits from the 1960s, show business and current affairs. She was also an expert in the progressive rock scene which is how she met Guto in the first place. They had met in a nightclub in Orange, NJ where British band Supertramp used to play before they became mainstream rock-stars. They were both sort of Supertramp-groupies and met weekly until they started going steady.

Rose was a dynamo! I never forget when she mentioned Trade Union boss Jimmy Hoffa's corpse had been probably dumped near a local waste incinerator and a landfill in the swump-land area in Jersey City. I was impressed with her knowledge. 

When I mentinoned Don McLean's 'American pie' had been much scrutinized by the public in 1971-1972, she retorted Melanie's 'Brand new key' had been more thouroughly figured out by the media and the populace during the same period and she went on to explain that when Melanie sang 'I've been all around the world' it was double-entendre for having perfomed all kinds of sex positions. I was tremendously impressed by Rose's knowledge and my own utter ignorance. 

Guto and Rose lived with her mother and the rest of the family. I think she had a sister. They were from an Italian background. Her mother had been born in the United State and spoke English as a native. I remember she used the verb 'ain't' freely. I thought it quaint and gave me a notion she was a wise lady who knew what she talked about. At that particular summer they were hosting Guto's younger brother who had been visiting the USA for some time already. He apperead to have become part of the family and could even speak some English which he attempted at every chance. Rose's mother seemed to have had a good rapport with Guto's brother. I felt that was a happy family. That was the only time I saw Rose's mother but I never forgot her. They were Catholic and very Italian in some way... but Americans nothetheless. 

When Guto & Rose brought me back to Newark I had a sinking feeling I was at the bottom of a pit which would be quite hard to climb on up! I remember distinctly well Guto's car radio playing Carly Simon's 'Anticipation'. Rose mentioned the tune & and singer who had risen to popularity with 'You're so vain' in late 1972 and was the toast of town because it had Mick Jagger doing a duet in the refrain with Carly, Queen of the pops, as the British might say. I thought Rose was glamorous in a pop culture sort of way.  

When Guto left me back on Columbia Street I was dispirited. I felt dejected but I knew I shouldn't allow myself to wollow in self-pity in such a juncture in my life. I thought of Newark itself and the Ironbound as not belonging to me. Too much had happened these 2 years and I felt I had been left behind. 

After Guto left I still thought about what his reaction might be in coming back to Newark - and all its ugliness - something he had definetly left behind some 2 years back when he married Rose and went to live at his mother-in-law sprawling house in Englewood, N.J. I wonder whether he thought along those lines or he started a conversation with Rose right there with a total different tenor. Guto might probably be tired of having worked as a lathe operator in the factory the whole day and then having to entertain an old friend in the evening until pretty late.

Before I fell asleep I reminded myself of my goal for next day. I wanted to work in a place where I could speak English instead of 'boring' Portuguese or Spanish like I did in 1972-1973. Secretly I wanted to work somewhere far away from Newark, N.J. so bright and early next morning I set my steps towarda Pennsylvania Station and took the Path train to 9th Street in the Greenwich Village. 

Walking around the Village I spotted a Help Wanted sign at a delicatessen not too far from the Christopher Street Path subway station. I talked about it with the man in the counter and he told me I could start the very next morning at 10:00 am. My job entailed refilling the shelves with fresh stuff during the course of the day - after customers left with the product. I would have to keep an eye at the see-through refrigerator to keep it supplied with soft drinks and juices.  

The fellow who hired me was from a Mediterranean country. He could have been Greek or Yugoslav. He was a dark European. He spoke minimal English and gave me straight orders to do this or that in a most imperious way. Feeling total lack of empathy on his part I felt really lonely. I didn't have anyone to talk to the whole day. I was really despondent. 

On the second day I came down with a cold due to my going in and out of the cold walk-in-fridge in the basement during the previous afternoon. It was a hot July day and by 6:00 pm when I knocked off I was feeling really wretched. I walked towards the Christopher Street Path subway station, took the train to Newark and taking stock of the day's events I decided I would not go back to work there anymore. 

I actually decided I was going back to Brazil. I thought I had made a mistake in returning to the USA. I thought I had completey forgotten all the 'bad parts' I had gone through in my first stint like unemployment, terrible heat and pollution during the summer months etc. I only romanticized  the good bits like the wonderful FM stations, Xmas snow time and camaraderie of fellow young Brazilians who formed a cheerful community in the end.  

Next day I went to Manhattan and bought me a Sony FM-AM radio-cassette tape-recorder in some electronics store on 14th Street. It was a great machine with both speakers built in its body; differently from the two-sections Panasonic Stereo I had bought in September 1972, when Nino had moved with Pepe from San Francisco to Queens. I wanted to record as many cassette tapes as possible before I flew back to Brazil. Yes, I was dead certain I was going back the sooner the better. I was depressed and wanted to get out of that mood. The only reason I didn't go back at once was due to being a long week-end, travel agent offices were closed. So I had to wait for Tuesday.

As I had to wait for 3 days in my room I thought I'd better go out and visit the few Brazilian acquaintances I had still living in Newark. I went to Tia, on 112 Ferry Street and I somehow found out where Cuica and Antonieta were living. I'm not completely sure but I think they had moved back to living in an apartment at Sing-Sing just as they had before I shared a house with them (and his brother Divino) on East Ferry Street in early 1973. 

I must have told Cuica and Antonieta my plight and my wish to travel back to Brazil. They were not judgemental. Cuica just said as they were driving his brother Tarciso (who worked as a bus-boy) and sister-in-law Geralda (who worked as a chamber-maid) back to Kutschers Country Club in  Monticello-NY later on the day, he invited me to come along with them. Cuica convinced me I should give it a try and work in the 'montains'.

Said 'mountains' were a network of Jewish resort areas in the Catskills Mountais and Upstate New York known as the 'Borscht belt'. Brazilians and Latinos found employment there as waiters, busboys, chambermaids etc. The summer season was the most profitable season and it was already half-way through by mid-July.

There were 5 people in the car: Antonieta & Cuica in front; Tarciso, his wife Geralda and myself in the back. It was already dark when we arrived at the Kutscher's Country Club in Monticello-NY. Tarciso talked to some Brazilian fellow called Zezinho who said, yes, they needed someone at the industrial dishwasher machine badly and I started working at the other side of the dishwasher  the very next morning.

Zezinho would see that remains of food were scrapped from the dishes and silverware were all stuck into special plastic containers to go through a conveyor belt that passed into showers of detergent and boiling water. Dishes and platters came out squeaky clean on this side of the machine where there were myself and a young fellow from Rio de Janeiro that had started working a few days before me. We collected all dishes from the plastic conveyor belt still very hot and stucked them up on shelves not too far from our station. 

That's how my second time around in the USA started. Cuica & Antonieta slept in the employees' quarters over night and drove back to Newark the following morning; I never saw them again. I got stuck in the mountains of New York, far away from 'civilization'. 

I could hardly hear WABC's signal in Monticello. It was impossible to listen to any FM station out of Gotham City. I knew I was staying in a place I didn't really like but I was thankful I was doing something instead of worrying myself silly.

Rio de Janeiro who had just arrived in the USA. He wouldn't speak any English but I could see he was a nice person... and so we became pals! He had a best friend of his and they stuck together. I noticed they identified themselves as Black and shied away from the Brazilian crowd made up of mostly Mineiro boys from a Brazilian middle class background. Unfortunately I can't remember their names but I know the fellow with the Afro hair stlyle liked soul music. He had a car and liked Major Harris 'Love won't let me wait', Gladys Knight's 'Try to remember/The way we were' and the ever present 'The Hustle'... the discoteque craze was just beginning then.

Paul McCartney had just released 'Venus and Mars' and 'Listen to what the man said' replaced 'Love will keep us together' at # 1. Elton John was king and had the #1 album in the land with 'Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy'.

My two Carioca friends at Kutscher's. My fellow worker at the 'disha' is on the right and his buddy with an Afro is at the wheel.  

Myself having lunch at the side of the dishwahing machine. It felt almost almost like working in a factory doing the same movements morning, noon and night.

Billboard's Top 10 on 26 July 1975

1.  The Hustle - Van McCoy & The Soul City Symphony

2.  I'm not in love - 10cc

3.  One of these nights - Eagles

4.  Please Mr. Please - Olivia Newton-John

5.  Listen to what the man said - Paul McCartney & Wings

I worked at the industrial dishwashing machine six days a week. We were allowed one day off a week but never on week-ends. I actually didn't do the worst job which was done by Zezinho. He had to get the bus-boxes that bus-boys brought in and empty them; separate the dishes from soucers and cups and neatly put them in the moving rack that would take them into the machine. The hot water shower would clean the dishes and myself and my Carioca friend would pick them off the hot rack and pile them up. Then we would take those piles and store them in shelves in the kitchen. 

It might be boring but it wasn't actually because we had a lot of 'visitors' near the 'disha'. The silverware were a specially cared for! When it came to the silverware, the waiters themselves would come and wait for them to go through the machine and then take them back to the dining room. During this process the waiters would wait and conversation or practical jokes would arise. Busboys and waiters' favourite subject was always sex. That was the only subject talked in the kitchen. The more one works the more one thinks [and talks] about sex. It might be an escape from drudgery, I guess.

Myself showing off my All Star sneakers in front at Kutschers in Monticello-NY. August 1975. 

I was really surprised when I was told that 'staff' were allowed to use Kutschers swimming pool. I could hardly believe my ears. I come from a country - Brazil - that social segregation is the norm! I couldn't believe that a dishwasher could mingle with the Country Club guests at their swimming pool. As soon as I knew that I made arrangements to go and swim... Me and my Carioca friend were inseparable. We worked together and then went for a swim together. It's amazing that I can't recall his name! He was a tall fellow and very quiet. He didn't talk much... even in Portuguese! One day I was talking to him at the swimming pool and a lady asked me what kind of language we were talking. I told her it was Brazilian-Portuguese and she was really surprised. She said that at first she thought it was French, then she switched to Italian and Spanish...but she never guessed it right.

at Kutscher's swimming pool. Summer 1975.

28 August 1975, a Thursday. Myself in front of Kutschers main hall. The Tshirt depicts a very tall # One and a short # Two who looks up to #1 and says: 'You're big but you're not two!' That's Brazilian humour... I don't know if it translates well into English.

Lonely at the top! Kutscher's swimming pool at 6 PM was deserted;  everybody's preparing to dinner. We, dishwashers, were the last ones to arrive and the last ones to leave!

Billboard's Top Ten on 30 August 1975

1.  Get down tonight - K.C. & the Sunshine Band

2.  Fallin' in love - Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds

3.  Rhinestone cowboy - Glen Campbell

4.  One of these nights - Eagles

5.  How sweet it is to be loved by you - James Taylor

6.  Jive takin' - Bee Gees

7.  At seventeen - Janis Ian

8.  Why can't we be friends? - War

9.  Fight the power - The Isley Brothers

10.  Fame - David Bowie

After 4 weeks at Kutschers I finally took a Short Line bus and went to New York City. The distance between Kutschers and Monticello was a 5 miles, which averages 7 km. I thought it was too much to walk, especially if one is carrying something, so one had to depend on someone with a car to go to Monticello. I wanted so bad to walk in the streets of Manhattan again. I had another reason to go there. Lidia Picolo, a Brazilian girl I had met through Fisk Schools in São Paulo had finished an English as a Foreign Language course in Vermount and was staying in Manhattan for a few days. I knew she was staying at the McAlpin Hotel on Herald Square - Broadway and 34th Street. I was dying to meet Lidia and tell her all about my adventures in Upstate New York but I never got to meet her. She ended up taking her plane back to Brazil and I stayed in the USA.

McAlpin Hotel on Broadway and 34th Street in a much earlier time when the Empire State Building was not even on the boards yet.

Kutschers in the Summer of 1975.

The summer of '75 was rapidly approaching its end. The trees were already becoming golden and red. The Kutschers kitchen steward had promised me I would be working in the dining-room as a bus-boy as soon as the university students would go back to their respective colleges in early September. It reminded me of Rod Stewart's 'Maggie Mae': it's late September and I really should be back at school.

Sullivan County-NY

Labor Day was on the 1st of September in 1975 and it meant the end of summer. We worked our arses off the whole week. By 8 September all the student-waiters and student-busboys had left and only the foreign staff stayed. When Zezinho came into the kitchen holding his bus-boy uniform in his arms and said I had not been chosen to work in the dining room I was incensed. I cursed the steward who failed in his promise. Zezinho, who had worked in the dishwasher for years was gloating! I immediately had a little 'war council' with my Carioca friend  and we decided to get the fuck out of there. He hated being isolated from his brother in Manhattan and had only stayed in the mountains because of myself and his Afro-hair friend. We waited for the end of the week, got our pay, got our few belongings, got a lift in his friend's convertible to Monticello and took a Short Line bus to New York City.  

I don't remember where I stayed in New York. Probably got a room for myself near Penn Station in Newark. Carioca's brother and cousin knew the ropes on how to get employment in the hospitality industry. We were referred to an employment agency in the Harlem. We went to see a Mrs. Hayes who had her office at her own house on 500 140th Street near the corner of Amsterdam Avenue.

140th Street in Harlem.

Mrs. Hayes was an old Black lady who found jobs mostly for Latinos. She knew about undocumented workers and probably had a big network of clients. I went there with Carioca. As he unfortunately didn't speak English, dishwasher was his only possible occupation. I told Mrs. Hayes I wanted to work as a busboy. She said I had to go out and buy two pairs of black pants, two white drip-dry shirts, plus a black bow-tie. Mrs. Hayes kept very busy at her desk using the telephone constantly ringing restaurants and resorts in the Tri-State area.

At Mrs. Hayes' office I met a Japanese Brazilian fellow from São Paulo who was a cook. Cook were very respected people. They were in a league of their own. After a few telephone calls Mrs. Hayes asked me if I had any objection in working in Connecticut. I said I would not. Then she said she would send me to a restaurant in Connecticut with this Nissei fellow. I was happy to go along with him. That was the last time I saw Carioca. He stayed behind because he didn't speak English. I wonder whatever happened to him. I'd be glad to get some news from him... but that's such a long tima ago and I don't even remember his name. For some time I thought his name could be Marcelo, but I'm not sure.

Me and the Nissei young man went to the Bus Terminal on 8th Avenue and took a Greyhound coach to this particular town in Connecticut. Needless to say I can't recall its name. It must have been a posh place. He was accepted as a cook and I was rejected as a busboy which I was glad in a way because it was a small place. I said goodbye to him. I wish I had kept contact with him. Actually I met so many people I wish I had kept in contact but life was so busy then we didn't even have time to write down addresses or telephone numbers.

I came back to New York, going straight back to Mrs. Hayes' office for another try. This time Mrs. Hayes was sending me a little farther afield:  to The Nevele Country Club in Ellenville-NY, in the outskirts of the Catskill, a lovely mountainous region in the State of New York. She gave me a card with the Maitre D' s name: a certain Mr. Irving Gerstein or something. He was bald and looked friendly. He looked at me once and called someone to direct me to my lodgings. I was to share a room with a Brazilian busboy in a former turist lodge that was a staff-housing facility now.

This must have been a Thursday.  I started working on 2nd October 1975, the very next evening at dinner-time with Tchaikowsky,  a short Brazilian busboy from Minas Gerais who was to teach me how to be a sucessfull waiter's help. What a relief! What a beautiful feeling!  I felt vindicated!  I could hardly disguise my joy when I entered Nevele’s dining-room for the first time.  At Kutscher’s I wasn’t even allowed to tread their dining-room.  I belonged in the kitchen, behind the dishwasher.

The Nevele Country Club was built in a beautiful small valley... this picture is exactly what you saw it 'live'. Such a beautiful place.

this Kutsher's leaflet was giving to all guests...

Kutsher's tip suggestion list.

Billboard's Top Ten on 27 September 1975

1.  I'm sorry / Calypso - John Denver

2.  Fame - David Bowie

3.  Rhinestone cowboy - Glen Campbell

4.  Run Joey run - David Geddes

5.  Mr. Jaws - Dickie Goodman
  

6.  Dance with me - Orleans

7.  Wasted days and wasted nights - Freddy Fender

8.  Ballroom blitz - Sweet

9.  Ain't no way to treat a lady - Helen Reddy

10. Feel like makin' love - Bad Company

Jean Stapleton (Edith Bunker) and  Carroll O'Connor (Archie Bunker) get their Emmy for 'All in the family'.