I have started writing a novel about the Jackson Park decision and the breakup of the Hollywood studio system, focusing on my great-uncle Richard Salkin, the long-time manager. I would like to contact “Broan,” “Silky1” or anyone else with personal memories of the Jackson Park Theatre itself and/or Richard and/or Leo Salkin. My email address is . Please contact me off list.
Thanks to “Broan” (comment on 2/15/17), I have now learned that my great-uncle Leo B. Salkin managed the “JP” starting in 1918 (the silent era) and in 1922 also managed the Kenwood, which I assume was the old “Ken” at 1225 E. 47th St. where I watched 25-cartoon Saturdays as a little kid. When I was alive (starting in 1940), Leo had moved on to being a talent agent. He must have passed managership of the “JP” to one of his younger brothers, my great-uncle Richard Salkin. As a talent agent, Leo’s biggest client was the actor and comedian Danny Thomas. He also booked the Courtesy Motors Variety Hour on early Chicago television, sponsored by “Jim Moran the Courtesy Man” and featuring a vaudeville-like array of acts. The Courtesy Hour was one of the most popular shows on Chicago TV during the ‘40s and/or early '50s, the dawn of broadcast television in America.
Correction: Thanks to IMdB.com, I now remember the full correct title was “The Adventures of Lucky Pierre.” From the IMdB entry: “A man imagines that everybody he sees is naked. He goes to see a psychiatrist to see if he can be cured.” The movie starred a baggy-pants burlesque comic named Billy Falbo and was directed by Herschell Gordon Lewis, later to make a big name as a direct-mail guru. I’m something of a DM guru myself, as it happens. Some years ago I was in Florida and looked Herschell up. He was then a very old man, but still writing copy for clients. He didn’t remember me, of course (I was a teen-ager), and didn’t actually have a lot to say about my dad or Dave Friedman either; he’d moved on and made a new life in direct marketing.
My father Irwin Joseph owned and operated the Hilltop until his death in 1957. Judging by HilltopKen’s post, the theater must have been sold to L&M Management after my dad died (I have no personal knowledge of to whom it was sold, and my mom Marjorie-Lee Joseph is no longer around to tell me, sadly). My dad also was a movie distributor in the mid ‘50s, specializing in “exploitation” films including “She Shoulda Said No” (a/k/a “Wild Weed”), “Ecstasy” (Hedy Lamar’s first film, in which she appears nude) and four birth-of-a-baby movies (“Mom and Dad”, “Bob and Sally”, “Street Corner” and “Because of Eve”). Between the third and the fourth reel, a lecturer, the “noted expert on sexual hygiene Mr. Alexander Leeds” and other fictitiously named individuals — all ex-carnival barkers — would give a 20-minute talk that was actually a pitch for a sex-hygiene manual. Each movie had its own pair of manuals, one for women and one for men. My mom wrote at least one of those pairs. I remember as a teen-ager, tromping around the Hilltop lot carrying stacks of books, approaching each car with our standard pitch: “One of each?” It usually worked. We charged a buck each and the books cost a dime each to print. Another reminiscence: David F. Friedman, my dad’s “vice president in charge of vice,” filmed an early soft-porn film called “Lucky Pierre” on the Hilltop lot over a long weekend. I wasn’t notified until well after the deed was done, darn it — I’d certainly have made a point to be on hand. Cinephiles and students of exploitation and nudie films will recognize Dave’s name — he went on to become a leading impresario of the form and headed the Adult Film Assn. of America for a time.
Frank S. Joseph
Chevy Chase MD
P.S. If you check out the CinemaTreasures entry for the old States Theatre at 3507 S. State St., Chicago, you’ll see my post there too. My grandpa Nathan Joseph owned and operated the States all his adult life. My novel TO LOVE MERCY (ISBN 0-9744785-3-9) is set in part in the “Calumet Theatre,” the stand-in for the States. Finally, my uncle Richard Salkin managed the old Jackson Park Theater at 67th and Stony Island Ave. The Jackson Park is famous in movie-industry lore for giving its name to a Supreme Court case that ultimately forced the major film companies to divest the movie theaters they owned.
My late uncle Richard Salkin managed the Jackson Park most or all of his adult life. He was the manager when the famous Jackson Park case and decision were adjudicated. When I was a kid, the “JP” was our go-to family movie theatre, partly no doubt because we got in free. I remember seeing “Red River” with John Wayne and Montgomery Clift (1948, I would have been 8 years old); “Stage Door Canteen” (1943, very likely the first movie I ever saw); and National Velvet (1944, Elizabeth Taylor as a child star), to name just three. Whenever we went to the “JP,” we never failed to stop first for Karmelkorn next door.
My grandfather Nathan Joseph owned and operated the States Theatre for most of his adult life. I have many childhood memories of the place, which are incorporated in my novel TO LOVE MERCY (ISBN 0-9744785-3-9, www.tolovemercy.com)) Although I called it the “Calumet” in TO LOVE MERCY, it stands in for the States. The sequel I am writing now, TO WALK HUMBLY, also includes many scenes at the theater. The corner of 35th and State Streets was the heart of the Bronzeville neighborhood, a vibrant 24-hour community that was in effect “Chicago’s Harlem” in the ‘20s, '30s and '40s. In the '50s, urban renewal came in and destroyed this neighborhood and its culture to make way for the notorious Stateway Gardens and Robert Taylor Homes public housing projects. Virtually every building on State Street was knocked down eventually. The States was closed in the mid '50s but the boarded-up building remained standing while everything else on the east side of the street was mowed down. I remember driving by in the early '60s and seeing this single brick structure standing alone on the block. It was eventually torn down too, I think around 1962. Bronzeville lay fallow for four decades. In the last 10-15 years, there has been a move to revive its memory, culture and viability as an urban neighborhood (it’s just 3 ½ miles south of the Loop), and housing prices are booming as the neighborhood yuppiefies and buppiefies. But 80% of the once-fine housing stock has been torn down as well as most of the commercial core. On State Street, where my grandpa’s theater once stood, the only reminder of this bygone era is the Bee Branch of the Chicago Public Library at 3647 S. State Street, housed in the former building of the Chicago Bee, one of Bronzeville’s two newspapers. (The Bee died decades ago; the Defender still is in publication in offices downtown though a shadow of its former self.) A visit to the Bee Branch will be repaid. Over the entrance hangs a delightful oil painting imagining State Street in the '40s, its vibrant bustling heyday.
I have started writing a novel about the Jackson Park decision and the breakup of the Hollywood studio system, focusing on my great-uncle Richard Salkin, the long-time manager. I would like to contact “Broan,” “Silky1” or anyone else with personal memories of the Jackson Park Theatre itself and/or Richard and/or Leo Salkin. My email address is . Please contact me off list.
Thanks to “Broan” (comment on 2/15/17), I have now learned that my great-uncle Leo B. Salkin managed the “JP” starting in 1918 (the silent era) and in 1922 also managed the Kenwood, which I assume was the old “Ken” at 1225 E. 47th St. where I watched 25-cartoon Saturdays as a little kid. When I was alive (starting in 1940), Leo had moved on to being a talent agent. He must have passed managership of the “JP” to one of his younger brothers, my great-uncle Richard Salkin. As a talent agent, Leo’s biggest client was the actor and comedian Danny Thomas. He also booked the Courtesy Motors Variety Hour on early Chicago television, sponsored by “Jim Moran the Courtesy Man” and featuring a vaudeville-like array of acts. The Courtesy Hour was one of the most popular shows on Chicago TV during the ‘40s and/or early '50s, the dawn of broadcast television in America.
Correction: Thanks to IMdB.com, I now remember the full correct title was “The Adventures of Lucky Pierre.” From the IMdB entry: “A man imagines that everybody he sees is naked. He goes to see a psychiatrist to see if he can be cured.” The movie starred a baggy-pants burlesque comic named Billy Falbo and was directed by Herschell Gordon Lewis, later to make a big name as a direct-mail guru. I’m something of a DM guru myself, as it happens. Some years ago I was in Florida and looked Herschell up. He was then a very old man, but still writing copy for clients. He didn’t remember me, of course (I was a teen-ager), and didn’t actually have a lot to say about my dad or Dave Friedman either; he’d moved on and made a new life in direct marketing.
Frank Joseph, Mister DM™ Chevy Chase MD
My father Irwin Joseph owned and operated the Hilltop until his death in 1957. Judging by HilltopKen’s post, the theater must have been sold to L&M Management after my dad died (I have no personal knowledge of to whom it was sold, and my mom Marjorie-Lee Joseph is no longer around to tell me, sadly). My dad also was a movie distributor in the mid ‘50s, specializing in “exploitation” films including “She Shoulda Said No” (a/k/a “Wild Weed”), “Ecstasy” (Hedy Lamar’s first film, in which she appears nude) and four birth-of-a-baby movies (“Mom and Dad”, “Bob and Sally”, “Street Corner” and “Because of Eve”). Between the third and the fourth reel, a lecturer, the “noted expert on sexual hygiene Mr. Alexander Leeds” and other fictitiously named individuals — all ex-carnival barkers — would give a 20-minute talk that was actually a pitch for a sex-hygiene manual. Each movie had its own pair of manuals, one for women and one for men. My mom wrote at least one of those pairs. I remember as a teen-ager, tromping around the Hilltop lot carrying stacks of books, approaching each car with our standard pitch: “One of each?” It usually worked. We charged a buck each and the books cost a dime each to print. Another reminiscence: David F. Friedman, my dad’s “vice president in charge of vice,” filmed an early soft-porn film called “Lucky Pierre” on the Hilltop lot over a long weekend. I wasn’t notified until well after the deed was done, darn it — I’d certainly have made a point to be on hand. Cinephiles and students of exploitation and nudie films will recognize Dave’s name — he went on to become a leading impresario of the form and headed the Adult Film Assn. of America for a time.
Frank S. Joseph Chevy Chase MD
P.S. If you check out the CinemaTreasures entry for the old States Theatre at 3507 S. State St., Chicago, you’ll see my post there too. My grandpa Nathan Joseph owned and operated the States all his adult life. My novel TO LOVE MERCY (ISBN 0-9744785-3-9) is set in part in the “Calumet Theatre,” the stand-in for the States. Finally, my uncle Richard Salkin managed the old Jackson Park Theater at 67th and Stony Island Ave. The Jackson Park is famous in movie-industry lore for giving its name to a Supreme Court case that ultimately forced the major film companies to divest the movie theaters they owned.
My late uncle Richard Salkin managed the Jackson Park most or all of his adult life. He was the manager when the famous Jackson Park case and decision were adjudicated. When I was a kid, the “JP” was our go-to family movie theatre, partly no doubt because we got in free. I remember seeing “Red River” with John Wayne and Montgomery Clift (1948, I would have been 8 years old); “Stage Door Canteen” (1943, very likely the first movie I ever saw); and National Velvet (1944, Elizabeth Taylor as a child star), to name just three. Whenever we went to the “JP,” we never failed to stop first for Karmelkorn next door.
RickB —
That’s my grandpa all right! Can’t thank you enough.
Cheers,
Frank Joseph
Joe Vogel —
I’d love to read that Boxoffice article from 1956 but the link is dead. Do you have access to a copy pls?
Cheers,
Frank Joseph
My grandfather Nathan Joseph owned and operated the States Theatre for most of his adult life. I have many childhood memories of the place, which are incorporated in my novel TO LOVE MERCY (ISBN 0-9744785-3-9, www.tolovemercy.com)) Although I called it the “Calumet” in TO LOVE MERCY, it stands in for the States. The sequel I am writing now, TO WALK HUMBLY, also includes many scenes at the theater. The corner of 35th and State Streets was the heart of the Bronzeville neighborhood, a vibrant 24-hour community that was in effect “Chicago’s Harlem” in the ‘20s, '30s and '40s. In the '50s, urban renewal came in and destroyed this neighborhood and its culture to make way for the notorious Stateway Gardens and Robert Taylor Homes public housing projects. Virtually every building on State Street was knocked down eventually. The States was closed in the mid '50s but the boarded-up building remained standing while everything else on the east side of the street was mowed down. I remember driving by in the early '60s and seeing this single brick structure standing alone on the block. It was eventually torn down too, I think around 1962. Bronzeville lay fallow for four decades. In the last 10-15 years, there has been a move to revive its memory, culture and viability as an urban neighborhood (it’s just 3 ½ miles south of the Loop), and housing prices are booming as the neighborhood yuppiefies and buppiefies. But 80% of the once-fine housing stock has been torn down as well as most of the commercial core. On State Street, where my grandpa’s theater once stood, the only reminder of this bygone era is the Bee Branch of the Chicago Public Library at 3647 S. State Street, housed in the former building of the Chicago Bee, one of Bronzeville’s two newspapers. (The Bee died decades ago; the Defender still is in publication in offices downtown though a shadow of its former self.) A visit to the Bee Branch will be repaid. Over the entrance hangs a delightful oil painting imagining State Street in the '40s, its vibrant bustling heyday.
Frank Joseph
Chevy Chase MD
www.tolovemercy.com/www.frankjoseph.com