Life, 1928-07-05 · page 8 of 50
Life — July 5, 1928 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a gossip column by Pal Willard about Broadway performers and venues. The text discusses various actors and entertainers around New York's theater district (the "Main Stem"), including references to specific Broadway theaters and performers like Captain Rheba Crawford, who led the Salvation Army's Broadway Corps. The accompanying illustration shows a steamship labeled "Sociable Steamer Passenger: Yoohoo-ship ahoy!" - likely a satirical reference to theatrical life or perhaps a touring production. The column's tone is lighthearted insider gossip, documenting Broadway personalities, their movements between shows, and romantic entanglements. It represents Life magazine's typical satirical coverage of New York entertainment culture during the early 20th century.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ALONG THE Dear Pat Wittarp: Some of the boys were swapping gab last night in Helen Morgan's new whoopee parlor on 52nd Street, and the chatter eventu- ally got around to people on Broadway who are never missed. It invariably does, and it probably is true of other com- munities, Willard, but we do know that once you fade out of the Broadway scene, you're forgotten within three months or jess, that being one of the severe penalties for fopping on Broadway or keeping out of touch with it. But there is one gal whom the old Stem will never forget. She wasn’t an actress or a night club hostess, cither. She peddled religion »for the Salvation Army on 46th Street under the side-entrance marquee of the Gaiety Theater, where dear old Frank Bacon knocked them cold in ‘Lightnin’. Her tag, at the time, in- cluded a titl—Captain Rheba Craw- ford"—and she headed the Army's Broadway Corps until she got That Way about a war vet of St. Petersburg, Florida, whom she married, and they are still liv- ing most happily down there. Yet the canyon hasn't been quite the same without her, Willard. Her charm, manner and girlishness (she was only twenty) floored the mob of mugs who lean up against corner buildings (so that they won't fall down), and among other hypnotized natives in her nightly crowds was the pride of the Winchell tribe. The Salvation Army cannot boast of beautiful belles any more. Captain Crawford was the only Ziegfeld type the Army had, and she enticed larger audiences than most of the shows in town. Captain Crawford was a pre-war blonde, meaning that she had long and natural blond hair. She packed an angelic pan, and of course the only mascara and rouge she saw were in drugstore window displays. Can’t you pic- ture her in her blue bonnet? But she had that thing Elinor Glyn can’t even explain—and she could talk! Her converts included ham actors, good actors, managers, producers, song-writers, dope fiends, pickpockets and other Main Stemmers, and then she left us all flat, for love. But believe you me, Willard, none of us begrudged it to her. George M. Cohan was her biggest booster. The Yankee Doodler was usually in her crowd and E. F, Albee, the head of the Keith Circuit, was another worshiper. It used to amaze me to sce the biggest shots on Broadway rubbing shoulders with the wk jie: “smallies” when the Captain was do; her stuff, and finally the flicker =) ever on the alert for screen types, mad her an offer. T think they tried to tempt her with; contract calling for $25,000 a year anj the plan was to feature her in a cinema tagged “My Gal Sal.” But she thanked them sweetly and alibied that she to could do—on the ground that she didn't want to cash in after being one of Hy Messengers. I don’t know why I've to this length telling you about Rhey Crawford, Willard, except to point ox that once upon a time Broadway could boast of someone who wasn’t a phony and who didn’t have a racket. At any rate, when she quit us, the front pages screamed Broadway's pain. 46th Street Socus.e Steamer PasseNcer: Yoohoo—ship ahoy! comicbooks.com