Liquor, Lust and the Law Page 10

  I had 165 text messages in two hours from people all across Canada, asking what had happened, and if everybody else was okay.”

  While Danny optimistically told the media he’d re-open in two weeks, building restoration crews revealed asbestos in the building. Significant renovation had to be done, and Danny took the opportunity to fully renovate the main bar. After five months, Danny officially announced that the Penthouse was re-opening. “There were times when the renovation looked so complex and costly, I had to question whether it was worth it. But the media interest in our re-opening was unbelievable. It was at that point that I knew that people did care. Vancouver cared.”

  After the fire, 2012.

  With a roving searchlight beaming into the sky, on Thursday April 5, 2012, the club re-opened to a packed house of friends, family, old patrons and staff, retired police, media, local musicians, fellow club owners, and well wishers, who all watched Danny, with the aid of legendary local radio DJ and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee Red Robinson, cut the red ribbon.

  The Penthouse's grand re-opening after the fire, April 5, 2012. Photo: Rebecca Blissett.

  One of the longest-running family businesses in Vancouver, the Penthouse has endured liquor raids, police investigations, bureaucratic hassles, and the murder of a family member. It would be easy to sympathize with any business owner who decided to pack up and leave after facing such hurdles. Vancouver would do well to recognize the Penthouse today. That the Filippones didn’t pull up stakes is perhaps testament to the family’s loyalty to the city.

  Danny Filippone, 2012. Photo: Rebecca Blissett.

  Thanks to the real-estate boom in Vancouver in the last thirty years, the club’s location makes the property worth a fortune. Danny regularly receives offers from prospective buyers for the land. He looks at all of them, but he’s consistently declined each one, noting the club’s history and its family connection. “The Penthouse will always have its past, and that’s what makes it different [from other clubs],” he says. Even the family home next door is historic. The house that Maria Rosa and Giuseppe Filippone had purchased in 1932 is now the oldest residential house in downtown Vancouver, according to Vancouver house historian James Johnstone.

  That building too is still revealing its secrets. After Joe’s and Maria Rosa’s deaths in 1983, the house remained vacant for some years, frozen in time like an homage to 1970s décor. In 2004 one of Danny’s bar managers, Gwyn Roberts, moved in. “Nothing had been touched since Maria passed,” Roberts says. “There were stacks and stacks of bed linens. I figured I’d donate them to the Salvation Army, so I started packing them in boxes. As I was putting linens in a box, I felt a lump in one of the bed sheets and found a few hundred dollars had been sewn into the sheet!” Scott Forsyth might have looked in the linen closet rather than in Joe’s safe on that fateful night in 1983.

  When Roberts moved in, he also found Joe’s old suits, still hanging in the closets where Joe’d left them. Joe’s striped and checkered jackets, suits, and ties were trademarks of his public image. Roberts packed up Joe’s entire wardrobe—being careful to look through the pockets for anything Joe might have left behind—and donated the clothing to the costume department at the Vancouver Playhouse, where theatre-going audiences would unknowingly appreciate the legacy of Joe Philliponi in colourfully dressed stage characters for years (although, sadly, the Playhouse closed down in 2012).

  So many of Vancouver’s storied cabarets and clubs of yesteryear—the Palomar, the Cave, Isy’s, the Quadra Club, the Pender Ballroom—are long gone. Even more recent venues such as the Smilin’ Buddha, Cruel Elephant, Town Pump, and Richard’s on Richards are no more—having been torn down for condo developments, left neglected, gutted, or redesigned as template nightclubs with little real character or warmth. But friends from the nightclub’s golden age still come back to visit. In the 1980s, Frank Sinatra called on Ross at the club. In March 2008, producer Quincy Jones was speaking in Vancouver when he told an audience of his fondness for the city, which he’d first visited touring with Lionel Hampton in the early 1950s. He thanked the Filippone family and the Penthouse nightclub for the warm welcome they received, not just as black entertainers in an unfamiliar town, but as friends.[47]

  Promotional materials for the Palomar (top) and the Cave (bottom) nightclubs.

  The Penthouse has been recognized by the BC Entertainment Hall of Fame as an Historic Venue. The only other two venues recognized by the Hall are the venerable Commodore Ballroom and Orpheum Theatre, still standing as entertainment institutions for multiple generations of Vancouverites. The entertainment business has changed, however; many larger touring shows today appear at show lounges or casino theatres far from the downtown Vancouver core. But one wonders if, in sixty years, Vancouverites or visiting entertainers will nostalgically recall their evenings at those venues. Will places with the character and history of the Penthouse even exist?

  Ross, musician Dal Richards, and impresario Drew Burns at the BC Entertainment Hall of Fame Historic Venues ceremony, Commodore Ballroom.

  Dal Richards (left) with Joe (centre), Don Mills of the Mills Brothers (second from right), and Dal Richards Band singer Beryl Boden (right), 1948.

  Ross with friends under the original Penthouse marquee, 1957.

  X. Seymour Street Serenade

  On a warm summer Saturday night, the Penthouse is busy. People play pool, stand at the bar, or sit at tables in the lounge to watch the dancers. It’s doubtful that either the dancers or the young men and couples watching them know exactly who Frankie Laine or Jimmy Durante are—or most of the other old stars, for that matter, though they continue to smile down on the patrons from photographs on the club’s walls.

  Much has changed since Joe and his brothers opened the Penthouse in the 1940s. The clothing—and lack thereof on stage, for a start. The urgent bass beat that Sassy Scarlett dances to is a long way from Nat King Cole’s “Stardust.” But the sound of laughter and glasses clinking around the bar is the same. You can see far more on the Internet, without ever leaving your home, than you can in an exotic-dancing bar. But people still like to get together in person and take in the nightlife, have a drink, relax, flirt with a dancer, and have a good time.

  As increasing numbers of condominium towers now stare down at the club, it seems ironic for a building so small (when compared to its neighbours) to call itself the Penthouse. But Danny Filippone can stand outside the nightclub’s front door, just as his father did before him, watching traffic drive by, and see the building’s iconic green-and-pink neon glowing over Seymour Street. “We’re staying put,” he says. “Business is good, so why would we want to stop now?” Considering that the landmark that holds so much history—his family’s and the city’s—is still standing, he’s got a right to be pleased.

  The club has withstood everything from vice-squad inspectors who worked tirelessly to see it shut down, the murder of the man who was so much a part of the nightclub that his death nearly spelled its demise, the fads of its competitors, a major fire and, so far, the threat of the wrecking ball. The Penthouse still has a few cards to play, and if Danny Filippone has any say, last call won’t come to Seymour Street anytime soon.

  Two different views of Seymour Street from the front of the Penthouse, 1970s.

  Acknowledgments

  Joe Phillipone's Penthouse scrapbook.

  Asking people to recall their memories of nights spent in bars presents a difficult task for a writer. The more one tends to enjoy an evening in such a place, the worse one’s memory of it might be the next day— much less years later. So, I’m indebted to the number of people I interviewed for this book who generously provided their crystal clear memories of not only the Penthouse nightclub, but also deeper reflections on how much the city has changed over the decades.

  In many ways, the seeds of this book were sown thirty-five years earlier by the hand of Joe Philliponi himself. During the 1976 trial, he started collecting daily newspaper clippings from Vanc
ouver Sun and Vancouver Province writers like Denny Boyd, Jack Wasserman, Larry Still, and Lorne Parton regarding the trial and archived them in a massive scrapbook to which he later added a collection of Penthouse and Eagle Time articles going back to the 1940s. I was grateful to be entrusted with this scrapbook while researching and writing; it proved a considerable resource of dates and details that charted the sometimes blurred history of the bar. When drafting the text presented some complex or difficult crossroads, an article in the scrapbook often helped me navigate the way, and I could almost hear Joe himself directing me forward: “Kid, kid, kid, here’s another good story for ya …”

  I was fortunate enough to have recorded hours of interviews in person, and in several telephone calls, with Ross Filippone in 2007. My late father had been a contemporary of Ross’s, and as a lawyer had done some legal work for the Filippones in the 1960s. This connection, and other family acquaintances, put him at ease with me, so that he spoke candidly—perhaps for the very first time—about the business his family had built and the (literal!) trials they went through while running it. Ross’s keen memory was of great benefit to the book.

  Photo: Rebecca Blissett, 2012.

  It is not uncommon in my experience that retired Vancouver police constables often feel reluctant to share their memories of the job with outsiders for a myriad of reasons. Beyond what often might be a distrust of the media, or a consideration of privacy issues, there are those who retire and simply do not want to relive the stresses or frustrations that are inherent to the service we ask of them. But their work gives them a unique perspective on the city that other citizens are not privy to, so I’m pleased that retired constables George Barclay, Leslie Schulze (McKellar), Bill Harkema and, in particular, Grant MacDonald and Vern Campbell, felt confident and comfortable enough to share their thoughts and memories of work, which often brought them into contact with members of the 1970s-era underworld in Vancouver who frequented the Penthouse.

  Many thanks to Al Abraham, Bruce Allen, John Atkin, Rebecca Blissett, Gyles Brandreth (for the good advice), Drew Burns, Bob Burrows, Jack Card, Russ Chamberlain Q.C., Peter Chapman, Kenny Colman, Kelowna RCMP Cst. Chris Clark, Penny Crowe (Marks), Ray Culos, Tracey Davis, JoAnne Filippone, Rose Filippone (Fabbiano), Judge Thomas Gove, Cst. Chris Graham (Ret.), Heritage Vancouver, Cst. Toby Hinton, James Johnstone, the Vancouver Police Museum, Sandy King, David and Duane Keogh, Barry Link and all at the Vancouver Courier, Jean-Paul Lorieau at the National Parole Board of Canada in Vancouver, all at the Commodore Ballroom and Live Nation Concerts Canada, John Mackie at the Vancouver Sun, Jana McGuinness and the Information and Privacy Unit at the Vancouver Police Department, Sean Mawhinney, Tony Pisani, Colin Preston at the CBC Archives in Vancouver, Edna Randle, Gwyn Roberts, Red Robinson, Capt. Gabe Roder at Vancouver Fire and Rescue Services, the Vancouver Public Library Special Collections Historical Photographs Section, Tevie Smith, and Will Woods at Forbidden Vancouver. My thanks also to those who preferred to remain off-the-record, providing additional documents, confidential reports, stories, and information that aided or confirmed the research in this book.

  My great thanks to Brian Lam, Robert Ballantyne, Cynara Geissler, Susan Safyan, and Gerilee McBride at Arsenal Pulp Press for their faith, patience, enthusiasm, and professionalism with which they’ve undertaken the enterprise.

  And lastly, but perhaps most of all, my gratitude goes to Danny Filippone, whose tireless support of seeing a Penthouse nightclub book published over the last several years is largely the reason you’re reading this now. Danny and Arsenal put considerable trust in me to undertake the project, and Danny and other members of the Filippone family graciously put up with my many phone calls and emails filled with questions and follow-up questions about their remarkable family. I hope Filippones past, present, and future will be pleased with the result.

  I also hope that those who pass by the Penthouse building today will take a second look and see more than just a building with the metropolis burgeoning around it, and that they will think of the amazing stories and remarkable people who have been and continue to be behind its front door.

  —Aaron Chapman

  Joe standing in front of the Penthouse, 1957.

  Endnotes

  Filippone family photo, 1967. Front row, left–right: Joey Filippone, Jimmy Jr Filippone, Teddy Jr Pawlick, Danny Filippone, Penny Filippone, Maria Filippone, Janie Filippone, Rose Filippone, Maria Rosa Filippone, JoAnne Filippone, Josephine Filippone, Florence Pawlick, Ross Filippone, Mickey Filippone, Joe Philliponi, Jimmy Filippone, Ted Pawlick.

  Prologue

  1. from http://www.facebook. com/VancouverSun/ posts/316239038387388?comment_

  I. Bella Fortuna

  2. Sturino, Franc. “Italians: Migration.” Multicultural Canada. [n.d.] http://www. multiculturalcanada.ca/Encyclopedia/A-Z/ i11/2.

  3. James Johnstone, “House History Report [for 1033 Seymour Street],” 2008. Johnstone found that the house was built in 1896 by a Scottish-born contractor by the name of Thomas Miller Rae, who purchased the lot from the Canadian Pacific Railway company in 1888. Rae’s Presbyterian family had arrived in Canada in 1884, and he and his wife Jane and five children, as well as the occasional lodger, lived in the house until the 1920s, shortly before the Filippones bought it.

  4. “Fast Growing Delivery Service and Cab Business in Modern Building,” Vancouver Sun, February 14, 1942.

  5. Smith joined the Vancouver Police Department, becoming one of its most famous constables; he enjoyed a national- wide reputation after appearing in the National Film Board documentary Whistling Smith (Marrin Canell and Michael Scott, 1975).

  6. Cheryl Rossi, “Friend and Foe,” Vancouver Courier, March 2, 2012.

  7. Denny Boyd, “Joe Survived His First Showdown with a Gun,” Vancouver Sun, September 21, 1983.

  II. What Does a Guy Have to Do to Get a Drink Around Here?

  8. “Population,” Canada Year Book 1955. Ottawa: Dominion Bureau of Statistics, Canada Year Book Section, Information Services Division, 1955 and “Focus on Geography Series, 2011 Census,” Statistics Canada Catalogue no. 98-310-XWE2011004. Ottawa: Statistics Canada, 2011.

  9. Thomas, Dylan, The Love Letters of Dylan Thomas, Napierville, Ill: Sourcebooks, 2001.

  10. Daniel Francis, Red Light Neon, Vancouver: Subway Books, 2006.

  11. The Granville Street nightclub in Vancouver called Joe’s Apartment is a tip of the hat to Joe Philliponi’s old after-hours club.

  12. Bottle clubs sold soft drinks; their customers brought in their own (concealed) alcohol.

  13. Hal Straight, “From the Sun Tower,” Vancouver Sun, July 28, 1947.

  III. On with the Show

  14. “We always brought …” Jes Odam, “Death of a Friend Shocks Entertainers,” Vancouver Sun, September 20, 1983.

  15. Greg Potter and Red Robinson, Backstage Vancouver (Madeira Park, BC: Harbour Publishing, 2004).

  16. Paul King, “He Picked It Out Himself—A Wonderful Place to Die,” Vancouver Sun, October 16, 1959.

  17. John Mackie, “Set ’Em Up Ross,” Vancouver Sun, March 10, 2001.

  IV. Life Is a Cabaret

  18. Denny Boyd, “Legend Larger than the Man,” Vancouver Sun, September 20, 1983.

  V. Dollars and Sex

  19. Allan Fotheringham, Vancouver Sun, December 22, 1977, p. 21.

  20. Becki Ross, Burlesque West: Showgirls, Sex, and Sin in Postwar Vancouver (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009), 58.

  VI. Set ’Em Up

  21. The author acknowledges the title of John Mackie’s article, “Set ’Em Up, Ross,” from the Vancouver Sun, March 10, 2001.

  22. Daniel Francis, Red Light Neon, 89.

  23. In 1973, then-Inspector Winterton led a crackdown on Granville Street prostitution, as reported in the November 16 Vancouver Sun.

  24. Leslie McKellar was then Leslie Schulze.

  25. Unpublished VPD investigation paper dated July 18, 1975, from Sergeant Beattie to Inspector Lake
.

  26. The author has chosen not to publish the man’s name to protect his privacy.

  27. Phil Benson is not his real name. The author has chosen not to publish the man’s name to protect his privacy.

  28. According to the Vancouver Sun Sports Section race results from the next day.

  29. In 2012, Detective Barclay told the author that the witness had simply identified the wrong Filippone brother.

  30. Beckie Ross, Burlesque West, 79.

  31. New York city mafioso Joe Valachi testified in 1963 to the US Senate about mafia history and its rituals, helping officials to crack a number of previously unsolved murder cases.

  32. Larry Still, “Judge in Penthouse Spotlight,” Vancouver Sun, October 9, 1976.

  33. Denny Boyd, [title unknown.] Vancouver Sun, September 14, 1978.

  34. Information and Privacy Unit Reference #12-1058A, filed May 10, 2012.

  VII. The Show Must Go On

  35. At one point he was acquitted of attempting to bribe a liquor inspector after giving the inspector a bottle of liquor.

  VIII. Buona Notte

  36. Larry Still, “Philliponi Calm at Gunpoint, Accused Says,” Vancouver Sun, June 7, 1984.

  37. Larry Still, “Philliponi Pleaded For Life, Court Told,” Vancouver Sun, June 6, 1984.

  38. Per VPD Constable Jana McGuinness, May 1, 2012, email to author.