at Kutschers swimming pool on 28 August 1975.
After having stayed in São Paulo for 2 years I thought it was about time to have another go at the USA and so I headed back to the States to catch up where I had left off in early 1973.
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 in Newark. Things had moved on and I was sort of lost - all by myself - in a room I'd rented on Columbia Street, right opposite to Enriqueta's house in which I had lived in mid-1972. It seemed like life had run full circle and I was back at square one again.
I phoned Guto and told him I had brought him a gift from his sister Alice in São Paulo; she lived in a residential building on Avenida Brigadeiro Luiz Antonio, two blocks passed Av. Paulista heading towards Ibirapuera. Guto 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 to me 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 in Bergen County which was in a leafy neighbourhood starkly different from barren Newark.
Guto drove, Rose sat by 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 said' playing along. Rose mentioned that some of their friends would go and see Paul, Linda & Wings at some arena in N.J. 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 hit the big time and 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 probably been dumped near a local waste incinerator in 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 much more thouroughly dissected 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 & 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 States and spoke native English. I remember she used the form '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. He seemed 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 Roman Catholics and very Italian in some ways but Americans nothetheless.
When Guto & Rose brought me back to Newark past 10:00 pm, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach I was at the bottom of a pit which would be quite hard to climb out of ! I remember distinctly well Guto's car radio playing Carly Simon's 'Anticipation' a few moments before they left me. Rose said something about the tune & and singer who had risen to popularity with 'You're so vain' in late 1972. Funny, I remember myself & Guto in a car driven by a Paraense friend of his who had lived in the US since childhood. We were on the New Jersey Turnpike heading towards Manhattan on a Saturday night and 'You're so vain' with that famous duet by Carly Simon & Mick Jagger came on. I thought Rose was glamorous in a pop culture sort of way.
When they finally left I was dispirited. I felt I had missed the boat somehow having left the US in early 1973. I felt dejected but I knew I couldn't afford to wallow 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 past 2 years in Brazil and I felt I had been left behind. I knew Guto was probably tired after having worked the whole day as a lathe operator in a scissors' factory. He had to go back home and have a good night's sleep.
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. Wildfire - Michael Murphey
4. Love won't let me wait - Major Harris
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 towards Penn Station and took the Path train to the 9th Street station in the Greenwich Village.
Walking around in the Village I spotted a Help Wanted sign at a delicatessen on Christopher Street not too far from the Path subway station. I talked about it to a man in the counter and he told me I could start the very next morning at 10:00 am. My job entailed refilling shelves with fresh stuff during the course of the day. I would have to keep an eye at the see-through refrigerator door 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 a total lack of empathy on his part I felt really lonely and dejected. I didn't have anyone to talk to the whole day. I was really despondent.
On the second day at the delicatessen I came down with a cold due to my going in and out of a huge 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 work I was feeling wretched. I walked towards the 9th St Path subway station, took the train to Newark and taking stock of the day's events I decided I would not go back to that damned place anymore.
I actually decided I would go back to Brazil as soon as possible. I thought I had made a mistake in returning to the USA. I pondered I had forgotten the bad parts I had gone through in my first stint in the USA like unemployment, terrible heat and pollution during the summer months and bitter cold during the winter. 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 after all.
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 in with Pepe in 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, when travel agent offices were closed. So I had to wait for Tuesday.
As I had to wait for 3 days in my room on Columbia Street, I thought I'd better go out and visit the few Brazilian acquaintances I had still living in Newark. I went to Tia Eugênia, on 112 Ferry Street and I somehow found out where Cuica & Antonieta were living. They had moved back to living in a flat at the Prudential Apartments aka 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 & Antonieta I was really unhappy and wished to go back to Brazil immediately. They were not judgemental. Cuica just said they were driving his brother Tarciso and sister-in-law Geralda back to Kutschers Country Club in Monticello-NY. Tarciso worked as a busboy and his wife Geralda as a chamber-maid at Kutscher's. They were on their weekly day-off and had come down to the tri-state-area for that day. They were out shopping at that moment and would be back before night time. Cuica convinced me I should give it a try and work in the 'montains' for the summer so I quickly changed my mind.
Said 'mountains' were a network of Jewish resort hotels & country clubs in the Catskills Mountais in Upstate New York known popularly as the 'Borscht belt'. Brazilians and Latinos found employment there as waiters, busboys, chambermaids, gardeners etc. Summer was the most profitable season and it was already half-way through by mid-July.
I told Cuíca I wanted to go with them upstate New York so I hurried back to Columbia Street just across the train tracks, fetched all my belongings and was back at their flat with my Sony radio-cassette and a suit case in hand ready to give the USA another try. It took me less than an hour to do that. I was lucky to have visited Cuica & Antonieta at that particular time; it changed my life completely. Had I returned to Brazil on the spur of the moment I'd regret it bitterly in no time.
It had been 27 months since I said goodbye to them in late March 1973, and flew down to Brazil. Toni was pregnant at the time. I didn't have a chance to ask her about their child who must have been 2 years old, whether it was a male or female, for Geralda who was back now from her shopping kept Toni's attention all the time. They must have left the toddler with Toni's mother while they went on a outing in the Catskills montains.
Everyone now was ready to drive north to the mountains. There were 5 people in the car: Antonieta & Cuica in the front seats; Tarciso, his wife Geralda and myself in the back. We must have left Newark around 5:00 pm or even later driving the 3 hour-trip to Monticello, on the New York Thruway. it was already dark when we arrived at Kutscher's.
After Geralda, Cuíca & Toni went to their lodgings for the night, Tarciso went into the kitchen and talked to a short fellow from Minas called Zezinho, who commanded the ''disha'. Yes, they needed someone at the industrial dishwasher badly and I would start working at the other side of the dishwasher the very next morning.
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 some days later; I never saw them again. I got stuck in the Catskills 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 90 miles away from 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.
After that momentous day which was 16 July 1975, I only saw Tarciso a few times whenever he showed up at the dishwashing room at the end of his shift to take his waiter's silverware to be put through the machine, but we never talked at length. By the end of that summer I left Kutcher's in anger, and didn't have a chance to say goodbye to anyone so I never heard of that pleasant Mineiro family again.
Myself having lunch at the side of the dishwahing machine at Kutscher's, in August 1975. Look how sun tanned I was... the result of sun bathing near the cesspit.
WORKING AT THE INDUSTRIAL DISHWASHER AT KUTSCHER'S
The first day at the dishwasher I was introduced to a dark young man from Rio de Janeiro who would work opposite me at the dishawasher. I stood on one side of the machine and he just opposite me. He had started working at Kutscher's a few days before me. I think his name was Marcelo, but as I'm not sure let's call him Carioca. He had arrived in the USA that very summer so he wouldn't speak English but he was clever. He was tall, well-built and a little younger than Myself. He kept to himself most of the time and seldom spoke but I could see he was a nice chap and after a few days we became pals!
Carioca had a best friend of his - also from Rio de Janeiro - who worked in another hotel and sported an Afro hair style. He would drive up to Kutscher's in his convertible after he finished his shift. They usually spent the afternoon together visiting nearby resorts and towns. I noticed they identified themselves as Black and shied away from the Brazilian crowd made up of mostly boys from Minas' lower middle class background. Unfortunately I can't remember his name either so let's call him Joe. I know he went to school in the USA and liked soul music. I remember hearing Major Harris' 'Love won't let me wait', Gladys Knight's 'Try to remember/The way we were' and the ever present 'The Hustle' by Van McCoy & the Soul City Symphony coming from Joe's car radio.... the discoteque craze was on full swing just then.
I worked at the industrial dishwasher six days a week. We were allowed one day off a week but never on week-ends. The worst job was done by Zezinho. He had to get all the bus-boxes brought in by bus-boys and empty them; separate plates from cups and soucers and arrange them neatly in the moving rack that would take them into the machine. Hot water showers would clean them and myself and my Carioca friend would pick them off the hot rack and pile them in shelves nearby. Then we would take those piles and store them in shelves in the kitchen.
It could have been a boring job but it actually wasn't for we had a lot of visitors near the 'disha'. The silverware were specially cared for! When it came to silverware, waiters themselves would come down and wait for them to go through the machine and then take them back to their station in the dining room. During this process waiters & busboys would wait and conversation or practical jokes would arise. Their favourite subject was always sex which reigned supreme. The more one works the more one thinks - and talks - about sex. It may be an escape from drudgery, I guess.
Zezinho operated & commanded the huge dishwasher. He had been in this position for a few years as he spoke little English when he started and couldn't be a busboy. Now, he was promised by the Stewart he would be promoted to the dining room and become a busboy as soon as 1975 summer was over. Zezinho would see that remains of food were scrapped from dishes and silverware were all stuck into special plastic containers to go through a conveyor belt which ran into showers of detergent and boiling water. Platters came out squeaky clean on the other side of the machine where Myself and Carioca picked them up still hot and stucked them up on shelves not far from our station.
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My two Carioca friends at Kutscher's after lunch time in late August 1975. My fellow worker at the 'disha' is on the right and his buddy sporting an Afro is at the wheel. He worked as a bus-boy at a near-by hotel and drove to Kutscher's when he finished his lunch shift. He parked his car near the bungalows that served as staff quarters.
I actually don't remember my first night at the staff quarters which were scattered all over the sprawling country club. Kitchen staff stayed separated from dining room staff... but I stayed in one place for a few nights where they mingled together. In the almost 3 months I worked at Kutscher's I slept in a bungalow where everyone seemed to be from Nicaragua. I was the only Brazilian there. I didn't mind it because by 1975, I could speak Spanish quite fluently. I actually slept on the upper part of a bunk. The guy in the lower bed was a Nicaraguan who I felt was friendly to me. It seemed like they all knew each other well. They were all gardeners that is, they mowed a lot of lawn for Kutscher's had a superb golf course.
We finished the breakfast washing up a little after 10:00 am and we had 2 and a half hours to go to our rooms to rest or do something else. Since mid-1974, when I quit smoking cigarettes I had changed my bad habits. I started lifting weights and would take sun bathes whenever I could. I wanted to keep in good physical shape. Going out the kitchen's back-door and walking a few yards through a grassy path which led to the bush I found a secluded place where they had the kitchen's cesspit. It took me a while to understand what that contraption was then I decided that would be an excellent place for me to lay me down in my swim suit and have a glorious sun bath. Nobody in the world would find me there. I went back to my room, got me a transistor radio, a blanket I could lie on top of the grass, a hat and a pair of sun glasses and headed to the cesspit. There was no odor coming from it, only a little soft bubbling sound which didn't bother me and I started my first sun bathing session. I would be exposed to the sun for about 60 minutes listening to the latest hits from New York's WABC or some local Top 40 station. Elton John's 'Someone saved my life tonight' played a lot then. One sunny day I was surprised to hear Brazilian singer Morris Albert's 'Feelings' playing on the radio.
WAITERS & BUS-BOYS
As I have been writing this account on 19 June 2025, about facts which took place 50 years ago in the summer of 1975, I have noticed I have forgotten most names & faces of Kutscher's dining room staff who used to mill around the dish-washing machine waiting either for their cutlery or something else to come through washed and clean on the other side... Sometimes up to 5 or more staff hung around together talking and making jokes. Apart from Tarciso who hardly ever showed up there was another bus boy from Minas who was friendly to me and once took me to his room. There was a tall Black Brazilian bus boy who came in and went out without saying a word to us. He probably thought he was much better than us for working in the dining room. He used to brag about something he had done to some guest who refused to pay his tip or the tip wasn't the right amount. He boasted he carelessly dropped spaghetti over them. I find it hard to believe such a story but that's what he kept telling the other guys.
Billboard's Top 5 on 19 July 1975
1. Listen to what the man said - Paul McCartney & Wings
2. The Hustle - Van McCoy & the Soul City Symphony
3. I'm not in love - 10cc
4. One of these nights - Eagles
5. Please Mr. please - Olivia Newton-John
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'.
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 the 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.
Billboard's Top 5 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
High summer 1975, at the Kutscher's.
28 August 1975.
28 August 1975, a Thursday. Myself in front of Kutschers main hall. The T shirt 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... It doesn't translate well into English.
Lonely at the top! Kutscher's deserted swimming pool at 6:00 pm when everyone is preparing for 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 , on 14 August 1975, a Thursday, I finally took a Short Line bus and went to New York City. The distance between Kutschers and Monticello is 5 miles, which averages 7 km. I thought it was too much to walk, especially if one is carrying luggage, so one had to depend on someone drive a car to reach Monticello. I wanted so bad to walk in the streets of Manhattan again.
I had another reason to travel to Manhattan. 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 & 34th Street. I was dying to meet Lidia and tell her all about my adventures in the Catskills but I never got to meet her. I asked the concierge at the McAlpin about her whereabouts but somehow he couldn't find her name in the guests' list. I had planned to convince Lidia to stay in the USA for Autumn and give it a go working as a waitress in the Borscht Belt even though I knew chances of Lidia's staying was slim. She ended up taking her plane back to Brazil and I stayed in the USA.
McAlpin Hotel on Broadway & 34th Street in a much earlier time when the Empire State Building was not even on the boards yet.
Billboard's Top 5 on 16 August 1975
1. Jive talkin' - Bee Gees
2. One of these nights - Eagles
3. Please Mr. please - Olivia Newton-John
4. Someone saved my life tonight - Elton John
5. Fallin' in love - Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds
At Kutschers swimming pool 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 college students would went back to their respective universities in early September. It reminded me of Rod Stewart's 'Maggie Mae': it's late September and I really should be back at school.
Hudson Transit Lines - Short Lines System as of 15 February 1945.
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 students who worked as waiters and busboys during the glorious summer left and only the older fellows and foreign staff stayed.
We still worked for another 2 weeks after the students left but on Monday, 15 September 1975, when Zezinho came into the kitchen holding his bus-boy uniform proudly in his arms and said I had not been chosen to work in the dining room I was incensed. I cursed the steward for having 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 decided to get the fuck out of there as soon as we could which would be Monday a week, 22nd September 1975. Carioca hated being isolated from his brother in Manhattan and had only stayed in the Catskills because of myself who had been his buddy during his 'serving time' there and his Carioca 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 for Latinos and assorted migrants. 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 drip-dry white 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 i.e. NY, NJ & Connecticut.
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'.
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