The Courier-Journal from Louisville, Kentucky • Page 69

reify fifty 3 i. rili.il 3 s-J -int. Photo By Courtesy of KENTUCKY POST Only a few thousand people attended the first singings in Devou Park at Covington, but that was several years ago. About 35,000 attend regularly now, and do they like it! he stays in Covington all year and works on his songs, then makes an annual trip to Hollywood and New York to sell his wares. Jimmy Durante wishes the Devou Park event were duplicated all over the country.

After Schnozzle drew 38,000 people tohe park, John Walsh asked him for hit picture. "You want my picture! It oughta be me askln for yous," Durante snorted. "Lookit that mob out there yodeling. Rich and poor rubbin' elbows. There ain't Communistic thought in the whole works.

"Hell, man, it's wonderful. Furthermore, a few showi like this scattered around would bring back vaudeville." Then, the only man who can hang from a limb by his nose shut up and gave Walsh an autographed likeness of the great beak and profile. Singer Jackie Heller followed Durante the next week. The weather was threatening and Heller's crowd was just 30,0008,000 less than Durante's had been. "How many people did Schnozzle draw?" Heller asked Walsh.

Upon being told, his professional jealousy tucky and we scheduled our first concert for Goebel Park." A makeshift stage was built from second-hand lumber, and the band moved in for its first performance. There was no admission fee. Six thousand people came. The plan was continued for several weeks until the crowd got up to 10,000. "The sljow was outgrowing Goebel Park," Walsh said, "so, without the city's permission, we moved over to the larger Devou Park.

Our audiences grew, and in 1937 the first celebrity was put on the program. He was John C. Weber, then past 80, famed bandmaster. He conducted one number." That program went over so well that it was decided to continue inviting celebrities when they were available. It was found that performers booked in the Cincinnati and Covington night clubs would make appearances without charge, and the clubs agreed to the arrangement.

The performers who live for applause are glad to appear just for the sake of being cheered by 32,000 to 40,000 people. In fact there has been competition among the stars as to who could draw the biggest crowd and get the greatest applause. 'mW i Nk'-;" (Uf 11 Hi -'1 1 illUr 4 g-llls I V'H 1V.P.1. eyit'ev in lie 3 Covington's song festival is so good it even made Sophie Tucker a sucker It II IV A I OPHIE TUCKER, the self-proclaimed last of the Red Hot Mamas, was speaking. "Man, tonight I wouldn't sing for the Pope.

I've got laryngitis. I'll go. I'll appear on the stage, but like I said, I wouldn't sing lor the Pope." So Sophie climbed into the fancy sedan that was waiting for her and followed a motorcycle police escort down the wide, winding concrete highway that leads into Covington, Ky. The police guided Sophie into Devou Park where people were assembled for the weekly show and community sing. As Sophie stepped up onto the stage, bowed end started to explain about her laryngitis, 32,000 voices broke out with the song that Sophie has made her trade mark: "Some of these days you're gonna miss your honey Sophie grinned and didn't say anything.

Thirty-two thousand people were across the footlights. Not many times had Sophie scon a crowd that big gathered to hear Sophie Tucker. The same thing that makes a retired fire horse stamp and jerk at his reins when a fire bell rings made Sophie Tucker forget her laryngitis. She sicps tip find siiifs By the time the crowd got to the line: "You're gonna miss your lovin', you're gonna miss your kisses Sophie had stepped to the microphone and joined the singing in, perhaps, the loudest voice of all. When the show was over, John Walsh said to Sophie: "I thought you had laryngitis.

I thought you wouldn't sing for "Hell, Man," Sophie broke in, "I couldn't disappoint all those suckers." That happened back in 1937 when the Devou Park Community Singing Association was reaching its maturity. Sophie Tucker and John Walsh both knew that the 32,000 people weren't suckers. Walsh has long since been convinced that 35,000 Ken-tuckians can't be wrong. Especially about the Devou m-sf nSnimftini a ill 4 loo much for Sophie Tucker; when they called for her, ehe had to eing. Fark event, which draws an average of that many to its weekly Wednesday night show and community sing now.

The event was originated by Walsh in 1936 after a commonplace occurrence that started the ball rolling. Walsh, hen clerk of the Covington Police Court, and his wife were in a restaurant in Cincinnati when, glancing out the window, Walsh saw an acquaintance of his who had been cellist in the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. "What's he doing now?" Walsh asked his wife. "Why he's engaged in some sort of W.P.A. music project." "I didn't know there was any such thing," Walsh said, closing the subject for the time being.

In 1938, money to build a huge stage with dressing rooms and an elaborate amplifying system was included in a W.P.A. grant Covington for a park improvement program. From the one-star attraction plan, the program was enlarged until now there are usually four or five vaudeville acts, a master of ceremonies and an orchestra. Carl Portune is the present orchestra leader. Wally Johnson was the first after the W.P.A.

band had to be dropped from the program. Ruth Best is master of ceremonies. For two years, Walsh ran the show without money. All participants contributed their services. A bus company furnished vehicles to transport the performers, and the drivers gave their services.

After the building of the new stage, however, and with the necessity of stagehands, small expenditures became necessary. The Union Light, Heat and Power Company, John R. Coppin Company, Louis Marx's Brothers, Eilerman and Sons, the Peoples Liberty Bank and Trust Company, the City of Covington, the Hatfield Coal Company and The Kentucky Post agreed to contribute a total of $1,700 annually to support the nine or ten summer shows. Walsh sold the peanut, hot dog and cold drink concession for money to buy a Hammond console organ. Nobody ever pays to attend the shows or to park their cars.

All sit on the ground except those who bring their own chairs or stools, and there is a section for them so they will not obstruct the view for the others. The stage show starts at 8:15 p.m. (E.S.T.), and lasts an hour. Then follows an hour and a half of community singing. The biggest crowd has been well above 40,000.

Cars from fifteen States have attended one performance. Three chartered busses bring loads weekly from Indiana, and the school system of Huntington, W. has sent busloads of students. This summer's concerts are now in full swing and the crowds are pouring into the park every Wednesday night. There will be five more concerts, counting next Wednesday's before the season closes.

One young lady from Covington who started as an entertainer on the Devou Park program is'now in Hollywood making a picture with Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. She Is Pat Starling (Patsy McCartney to home folk), a xylo-phonist. Haven Gillespie, Covington song writer, who wrote "Breezing Along With the Breeze," "Santa Claus is Coming To Town," "You Go To My Head," "Sleepy Town Express" and other hits, wrote a theme song for the Devou Park program called "Kentucky Skies." Gillespie, incidentally, is known in Tin Pan Alley and in Hollywood as "The Hidden Song Writer." That's because Next lie ucts I A' A i 1 4It, wonderful is what Jimmy Durante said when he eaw the Covington eong feat. flared up with "It ain't in the books. How about putting me on again next week?" Walsh agreed.

At Heller's second appearance, more than 40,000 people were in sight of the stage and about 5,000 more were over the hill where they could hear, but couldn't see the performer. That was the greatest throng ever assembled. George Hall and Dolly Dawn appeared by their own request when Hall's orchestra was appearing at Coney Island in Cincinnati. Covington's leading night club. The Lookout House and Newport's Beverly Hills, are always willing to excuse their performers for a show at Devou Park.

Radio Station WCPO let the Association use its Hammond organ until the Association bought its own. Walsh is a Louisville resident now, being manager of the Louisville branch of the Kentucky Department of Industrial Relations, but he has a deal with Commissioner W. C. Burrow whereby he is to be off every Wednesday during the summer so he can go back to Covington to manage the affairs of the Devou Park program. He's right proud of his depression-born brain child and more than ever convinced that 35,000 Kcntuckians can't be wrong.

Next day, he inquired about the W.P.A. music projects. "I was thinking a lot about the people In the West End of Covington," he said. "There had been a depression and they were hard hit. There had been a flood.

Their luck was bad. They were, well, they just weren't doing so well. "1 had an idea that as long as the W.P.A. was supporting music projects we might as well make use of some of them down in the West End to see if it would help cheer the people up and cause them to forget their troubles. "After much maneuvering around red tape and uch, I got the Ohio music project transferred to Ken John Walsh, now of Louisville, is the man who originated the Covington concert idea..