Toots Shor - An American Saloon Keeper
“Nobody else from South Philly has been able to hustle himself into 5 White Houses”
It’s early in the 1940’s and Frank Sinatra, just starting out his career, got a call from Toots - “Come meet me at the restaurant, I want to host you for dinner.” Sinatra happily obliged. He entered Toots Shor’s Restaurant at 51 West 51st Street in Manhattan. When he walked in he immediately recognized Bing Crosby, the most famous popular musician (and Irishman) of the day, sitting at the bar with Toots himself. Toots called Frank over and they sat and had a drink or two. Then walked in Jack Dempsey, one of the most esteemed boxers in the history of the sport and Heavyweight Champion of the World from 1919-1926. Toots called Mr. Dempsey over as nonchalantly as waving at a fly. Now Sinatra and Crosby are starting to get the gist. They smelled a scheme in the works. “Hey Tootsy, did you set this up?” asked Sinatra. “You’re goddamn right I did Dago,” Toots responded. Wow, both men thought, a dinner with Jack Dempsey, the champ, what a special evening this could be. Not minutes before they were about to walk back to their table, a commotion stirred in the crowd. In walked the King of New York himself, Babe Ruth. At this moment in time, if Dempsey was the Jesus Christ of the popular sporting world, Babe Ruth was God himself. The Babe, perhaps the most iconic American folk hero that ever graced the Nation, shuffled over (in the same manner in which he used to pitter-patter around the bases) to Toots, Crosby, Jack Dempsey, and Sinatra, asking the gang if they were ready to eat. Toots, the mastermind of the evening, escorted the group from the big round-bar through the crowd to their back table. As they started moving through the tables, the entire restaurant stood up and gave them a standing ovation. Sinatra said he looked over at Crosby, and Bing had tears in his eyes. Sinatra started to swell up too, for he and Bing both knew that they had just witnessed, and were about to be a part of, an amazing American moment.
If I were to tell you that the man who corralled that herd of legends was a poor kid named Bernard from a tenement at 1500 Mifflin Street in South Philly, would you believe me? Would you believe me if I told you this man, who you’ve probably never heard of before, was one of the most popular personas of 20th century Americana?
His name was Bernard Shor, but his family and his friends called him Toots. When he was 20 he left Philly and headed to New York in search of a new atmosphere and new beginnings. A strapping fellow of 6’4, he quickly found work bouncing in various speakeasies around Manhattan. He was a tough, charming kid. Good at his new job, he became acquainted and friendly with the old school bootleggers of the day - gangsters like the famous Irishman Owney Madden and the Italian Syndicate honcho Frank Costello.
Eventually through the good graces of his new found connections, and through his charm, humor, and toughness, Toots was granted the opportunity to run his own saloon at the end of Prohibition (Toots always refereed to himself as a saloon keeper, not a restaurateur). The saloon, that he christened “Toots Shor’s Restaurant”, almost immediately became an all encompassing melting pot of not only New York’s, but the Country’s most famous figures. Gangsters, athletes, politicians, and comedians - musicians, newspapermen, artists, and actors. Joe Dimagio and Jackie Gleason practically lived there. Richard Nixon and General Eisenhower had frequented. Ernest Hemingway was a great friend to Toots. Muhammad Ali ate there in the latter years. John Wayne, after being out all night with Toot’s the night before Toot’s daughters First Holy Communion, ended up attending the ceremony with him the following morning. Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra and all the great Yankees, Dodgers, and Giants sat at the bar or at tables. Bera was once introduced to Ernest Hemingway and supposedly asked him, as serious as can be, what paper he worked for. The sportswriters whose duty it was to cover the Athletes every move would sit at a table next to the ballplayers and turn a blind eye to the post game rituals. This was an era where the athlete or the comedian or singer you read about in the paper everyday might not have made much more money than the writer covering them. When you were at a place like Toot’s, everything was off the record. Today, that type of thing couldn’t happen. In our new “social” media world, we are dominated and overwhelmed by people who feel the need to share every thing they see and every one of their polarizing opinions through a screen. A modern day place like Toot’s would do wonders in helping us remaster that idea of living in the moment, and the art of conversation.
Toots Shor’s saloon was an enclave for people, of all different social, political, and legal standings, to interact in a personal setting. The conversations, ranging from sports to religion, were endless and interesting. It became an American institution because it embodied everything America stood for at the time. It was a melting pot of the sons and daughters of immigrants. They had gone through the depression and World War Two. Now times were good so, for better or for worse, they were going to drink big, smoke heavy, laugh hard, and celebrate the fact that they had made it through, and that they had carved out a little piece of the pie.
At the head of this uniquely American table sat a man named Toots from South Philly. Leaning back in his chair, watching the magic he had conjured-up take form, he was happy with who he was, and proud of what he had built.
“It didn’t matter how rich you were, how poor you were, if you were able to be in Toots Shor’s, you were o.k that night because you were there. You felt like you were a part of the biggest thing in the world. He made you feel that way, and that meant something” - Nick Pileggi (author).
