Night Life

in Massachusetts. It's not clear whether they lived in Salem or Boston's West End, but Solomon fell in with a bad crowd in the area at some point during his youth. His first trip through the justice stom happened in nineteen eleven for running a brothel. It would hardly be his last. Arrests for breaking and entering, burglary, gambling, perjury, and even being idle and disorderly soon followed. All told, he was arrested twenty one times over the course of twenty one years.

The only time he spent in prison came after he committed perjury during a narcotics trial. Though he was sentenced to five years. He spent a mere thirteen months behind bars. His drive to make the most of gang life catapulted him through the ranks. He established himself in fencing, bonding, gambling, drugs, and brothels, all typical fair for mobsters. A police captain once asked him why he didn't give up the business.

He had already made a fortune after all. Solomon laughed and said he enjoyed the nightlife far too much to retire. Like most underworld criminals of his time, Solomon's true wealth came during the Prohibition era. While he could make thousands in racketeering, there were millions to be made in a legal liquor, and Solomon understood that the old rule of real estate applied to speakeasies and clubs. Location, location, location.

He purchased a large amount of property around Boston, from hotels and theaters to a beauty parlor and several restaurants, But his shining stars were the nightclubs. He purchased the Cotton Club, and in nineteen thirty one he bought his personal favorite, the Coconut Grove, where he hung out with celebrities and beautiful women. Solomon owned a fleet of boats that brought in liquor from Central America. His liquor empire earned him the nickname rum Lord with the local authorities.

While he didn't exactly flaunt his empire, he didn't do much to conceal it either. His money afforded him enough connections to keep him in power, though his lifestyle eventually caught up with him. Federal indictments named Solomon is the Brains and a multimillion dollar liquors smuggling ring on January eighth nine. He wasn't worried, though, he told one reporter his friends in high places would ensure that he would beat the rap just as he had all the others.

Solomon spent the evening of January twenty three at the Coconut Grove while his wife stayed home. As the knight turned into the early hours, he took the party and two dancers he fancied to the Cotton Club. At three thirty in the morning, clubgoers heard him arguing with someone in the men's room. They reported hearing someone tell Solomon he had it coming. Then the shots rang out. His attackers fled the club. Solomon staggered out of the bathroom

was rushed to the hospital and died upon arrival. While the attack looked like a robbery, fellow mobsters were worried he might turn state's evidence against them. Soon afterwards, Solomon's lawyer, one Barney Willanski, took control of the coconut grove and began to make plans. I'm Lauren Vogelbaum. Welcome to American Shadows. In Boston, history is part of the culture. The city has kept key pieces of itself through centuries of growth

and expansion, a few fires, and a molasses flood. It's home to several renowned music, art, and dance venues and to die hard sports fans. Red Sox fans are passionate about Fenway Park, America's oldest Major League baseball stadium, and though the park is famous for baseball, Fenway has hosted everything from soccer to snowboarding to concerts. During World War Two, baseball teams took a hit when many players were either drafted or joined the military on their own, be they

Major League players, coaches, or referees. Men aged eighteen thirty five, we're heading off to war. The attack on Pearl Harbor brought the war close to home. Memories and realities from the First World War still haunted America every day. Headlines across the country told of the horrors that were happening. Having a distraction and keeping a sense of normalcy felt less terrifying. A few hours to cheer on a favorite team made the war seem farther away, even for a

little while. Sports gave Americans away to escape the war. It took their minds off of rationing and tough economic times. Family and friends gathered to cheer on a favorite team or discuss stats and players. But with so many players having swapped a sports uniform for a military one, fans wondered if there were enough to keep a season going. The Rose Bowl, typically held in Pasadena, California, had nearly

been canceled after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Officials felt the large crowds typically in attendance were too risky, and no one knew whether the West Coast would be the next target. Officials had already suspended auto racing due to the rationing of tires and gas for the military. Several colleges had canceled their football season. This beloved championship game

seemed doomed as well. Fortunately, Duke University offered its stadium the tournament of Rosa's committee scrambled, adding additional bleachers from other nearby universities. Tickets sold out in just three days. For baseball, President Roosevelt suggested that the country not canceled the season due to drafts, and through the first pitch himself on opening day. The papers often called Roosevelt baseball's number one fan, and women not only took to production plants,

they also took to the ball field. They played in the All American Girls Professional Baseball League, meant as a temporary fix until the men returned from war. The Red Sox finished the ninety two season second in the American League, winning their last game of the season against the New

York Yankees seven to six. Aside from the women's and remaining pro leagues, college games became another favorite, and on one cold November Saturday, a college football game brought Hilda and Houston Gray, along with Hilda's sister Josephine and her husband Francis Driscoll, to Fenway. The stands were packed. The wind and temperature had done little to dissuade fans from attending this highly anticipated game between Boston College and holy Cross.

The undefeated Boston College Eagles were favored six to one over holy Cross. Fans speculated about the expected outcome. It wasn't a matter of if Boston would win, they told each other, it was by how much. Boston College fans never anticipated the stunning upset. Not only did holy Cross win,

they annihilated Boston College fifty to twelve. Players had been so confident they'd win that they had already made plans to celebrate their victory at the trendy Coconut Grove nightclub, but the defeat had been too humiliating and they canceled. Many fans likewise left Fenway to head back home, but the Grays and the drift Golls had planned an evening of fun. Instead of calling it quits, they decided to continue. The couples chose to Club hob through Boston's Back Bay

and the South End. From there they'd go to the Coconut Grove. They had already made obligations with two more couples, and canceling would be difficult. They took the approach that even though their team had lost, they wouldn't let it ruin a perfectly good evening with a reframed attitude. The couples left Fenway and looked forward to a great time dining and taking in a show with friends. It would turn out to be the worst evening of their lives.

The Coconut Grove was built in during the height of the Prohibition era. Boston law, still under Puritan constraints, didn't permit nightclubs. However, supper clubs clubs that offered didn't are in a show were all the rage. Originally owned and operated by orchestra leaders Mickey Albert and Jacques Renard, the Grove opened on Piedmont Street in Bay Village. The area was prime real estate, located between trendy Back Bay and the fashionable Theater District, the future home to the Boston Opera.

The club's tropical paradise ambiance catered to patrons seeking good food, exceptional service, and plenty of entertainment. Musicians and movie stars occasionally dined at the club, making it even more popular. Nightclubs made it easy to move Bootleg liquor, and the Coconut Grove changed hands from Albert and Renard to mobster Charles King Solomon. After Solomon's death, Barney Will Landscape took

over the club. When the nineteen twenties lifestyle of excess and dirty money turned to destitution and depression for many, the Coconut Grove continued to profit. Blansky gave people what they wanted, a luxury, booze and an escape from their daily lives. Patrons entered through a revolving door on Piedmont. Those wanting to spend time in the recently added and aptly named New Lounge had a separate entrance on Broadway. A narrow corridor connected the main room and the lounge.

Stairs off the main entrance and dining room led to the basement and the more intimate Melody Lounge. Luxurious fabric wallpaper covered the walls, blue satin draped from the ceilings, and paper and tinsel palm trees treated patrons to a tropical esque setting. The Boston College players may have decided to cancel their plans, but the club had little trouble

attracting customers. Aside from the game. It was Thanksgiving weekend, the servicemen from the first Naval District were on leave, many of whom had converged on the club with their dates. The club was packed when the Grays and their party arrived at nine o'clock. They checked their hats and coats of the cloak room and made their way into the lobby. People had to turn sideways, shuffle, and wiggle their way

past others to get to the dining room. The Grays learned that the club had overbooked, though that had reservations, their table had been given to another party. The only table available was across the dining room at the far end of the stage. The seating wasn't optimal, but the party of eight accepted the spot and settled in. Music played and people took to the dance floor. The Grays and their party watched the dancers and the crowd. The

grove was the place to see and be seen. Among the crowd was Buck Jones, a famous Hollywood actor who starred in cowboy movies. Jones had also attended the football game. He was tired from traveling, had been part of a war bond campaign, and he wasn't feeling well, but Jones's agent convinced him to have dinner at the club before returning to his hotel. Around ten that night, Hilda, who had been sitting with her back to the wall, complained that the room was too hot. She even noted that

the wall was hot to the touch. At first, she wondered if she had imagined the heat with all the people and hot food around. Curious, Houston touched the wall too, and upon agreeing with his wife, the others got up to investigate. They didn't know the series of events that had unfolded. Seconds earlier, a bus boy had found a ball about near the Melody Lounge and lit a match. A nearby paper palm tree instantly ignited, bursting into flames. A staff used water in seltzer in an attempt to

douse the fire. People rushed for the four foot wide stairs towards the emergency exit as the flames jumped to the fabric, wallpaper and the draped ceiling, but the exit had been blocked. A few people made it to the main dining room, shouting fire, fire. The dancing stopped and everyone bolted for the exits. At the same time, the fire raced up the walls and into the dining room,

plunging the coconut grove into chaos. Fire Commissioner William author Riley said the fire took less than five minutes to spread forty feet across the Melody lounge and up the only stairwell, trapping people inside. Seconds later, it tore through the lobby and into the club's main dining room, but when the first people arrived from the basement, Houston thought that someone had yelled fight. Reality sunk in. Seconds later, as people scrambled for the door, a well passed a

safe occupancy. The thousand plus people inside the club rushed for the few exits. Those in the Melody Club had no way to escape. Once the blaze overtook the narrow staircase. All the paper, fabric, asbestos, and wooden furniture in the dining room fueled the fire. The black smoke filled the air, making breathing difficult and seeing nearly impossible. People fell over chairs in each other. In their frantic search for an escape,

They piled into the revolving door, jamming it shut. Others still trying to push their way into the door were crushed against it. A wall of people pushed against another exit, not realizing it only opened inward. Those who figured out the doors couldn't open them due to the panic and the sheer amount of people pushing against them, crushing some against the door to death. A waiter near the grazed table rushed past, pulling drapes away from the wall to

reveal a hidden door. As the group followed him to the exit, the lights went out. Hilda and Houston clung to each other in the dark. Screams and smoke filled the air. They stumbled through a tunnel, careful not to lose their footing for fear of being trampled. Finally, they reached the door and found it locked. Not far from the club, fire bells rang, not for the club, though someone had pulled the lever at a nearby firebox at ten fifteen due to a car fire three streets from

the grove. Firefighters had no sooner dousted the flames. When people ran up to them, alerting them to the fire at the club, The responders were bent with heavy, dark smoke pouring from the building. A passer by watched people jammed themselves into the revolving doors. No amount of effort budged them. Meanwhile, inside, Houston and the other men desperately attempted to bust down the locked door as more people piled in behind them, coughing and choking on the smoke.

The heat from the encroaching flames was growing unbearable. Like the people trapped at the other exits, the group found that no amount of effort budged the door. Before the flames reached the wall of people, there was a loud crash, then a sudden woosh of cold air. Firefighters with axes began to pull everyone out of the building. One firefighter noted that the fire burned so hot that those victims who managed to escape fell like stones once they took

a breath of cold air. The fire chief called for the nearby naval yards help, along with the Army, the Coast Guard, anyone capable of lending a hand. The taxi drivers responded, taking victims to the hospital. There were so many victims with injuries and imaged lungs that newspaper delivery tracks soon joined is makeshift ambulances. The nearby hospitals received a hundred and fourteen victims in just two hours. A film distribution company's garage near the club served as a

temporary more. The garage filled up quickly, though the worst was still inside the club. Once the firefighters extinguished the blaze, what they found there was nothing short of slaughter. The fire had spread so fast that anyone who didn't escape within the first few minutes, died from smoken hallation or burns. Only four hundred and nine two people survived. That number exceeded the club's occupation limit. Over a thousand people had been inside. The number of fatalities made it the deadliest

nightclub fire in history. Twenty employees perished. A movie star Buck Jones also died. One employee who survived told reporters that his brother had waited on the Star while he had waited on a family of ten. Only one of those family members survived, Hilda Houston, the Discals, and the two other couples they were with escaped. They credited the move to the new table closer to an exit as what saved their lives. Investigators learned that the Coconut Grove

hadn't had an operational license for years. The club didn't have a liquor license, food license, or food handling permit. A further digging revealed that owner Barney Wilansky had hired underage bussers, neglected to apply for permits during remodeling, and had used unlicensed contractors or worse, Boston's fire captain had inspected the nightclub ten days before the fire and determined that the club was safe. In a strange twist, in

the night, the Coconut Grove caught fire. Wilansky was in a private room at Massachusetts General Hospital recovering from a heart attack. Investigators asked Lansky how the fire could have happened and why so many exits had been blocked off. Wolanski boldly responded that his connection to the mob and favors from the mayor meant that licenses and permits didn't concern him. Mayor Vincent Tobin repeatedly denied any such affiliation with Blansky. On top of the violations and corruption, no

one could agree on the body count. Investigators had their work cut out for them. The hospitals and morgues faced their own challenges. Recovered bodies had been so severely burned that identification was nearly impossible. The fire had destroyed wallets and purses, further complicating the process. For several days, the fire dominated the headlines in Boston, shifting attention away from

war stories. The fire made the front page of the New York Times and the Washington Post, and movie star Buck Jones's death made news and papers across the country over the days following the tragedy, the stories moved from what caused the blade is to the victims, witnesses, and survivors. A sixteen year old buss boy, Stanley Thomaschewsky, was under intense scrutiny for starting the fire, though the public saw

Wilansky as the real villain. The mob lawyer turned nightclub owner had locked some exits, hid others behind drapes, and bricked over another to prevent customers from dining and dashing. He had maximized his own profits while underpaying his staff and ignoring health and safety issues. During the trial, the fire commissioner testified that Stanley hadn't done anything wrong in lighting the match in the darkened hall way. In fact, the final report declared that the fire had started from

an unknown origin. They found two contenders for what might have caused the flame to ignite, methyl chloride used instead of free on, or toxic fumes from the leatherette sofas. Without a clear cut cause, many people chose to continue blaming Stanley. For a while, he lived in a police guarded hotel room. Later, he told a reporter that he

prayed for the lives lost every day. Eventually, he went to college married and had a family, though he continued visiting the victim's graves, Willansky's entitlement and negligence caught up with him. Neither his political ties nor mob connections could save him from a manslaughter charge. The court sentenced him to twelve to fifteen years. Mayor Tobin escaped the indictment and went on to become the governor. Once in office, he pardoned Wilansky and his freedom was short lived, though

nine weeks later Wilansky died from cancer. Tragedies often spur changes. New laws emerged. Stationary doors had to be installed next to revolving doors, Inflammable materials were banned, and exits had to be well marked. Life went on for the survivors. The last left the hospital six weeks after the fire, and in time and seven couples who lived to tell the tale exchanged wedding vows. There's more to this story. Stick around after this brief sponsor break to hear all

about it. Rodney Dangerfield used to say that he went to watch a fight and a hockey game broke out. There's no shortage of stories about professional sports players ending up in public fights, though few ever caught the attention that the Yankees did in the late nineteen fifties. In nineteen fifty six, the team celebrated the end of the season with the World Series win against their long time rivals, the Brooklyn Dodgers. The following year, they were back playing

better than ever. With grates like Yogi Barra and Mickey Mantle, fans thought that they had found an unstoppable dream team in Major League Baseball. On May sixteen, the celebrations resumed with Billy Martin's twenty nine A teammates Whitey Ford, Hank Bauer, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Barra, Martin, and their wives headed to the Copa Cabana and The club had opened in nineteen

forty with ties to mobster Frank Costello. Decorated in Latin American furnishing and style, the Copa Cabana offered musical talents and food to match. Patrons enjoyed the famous chorus girls and celebrity sidings. The club had two rules, a proper dress code and no black patrons. The club even refused to host celebrities like Harry Belafonte while the dress code remained.

The club eventually allowed black performers in the nineteen fifties, and on the night of Martin's birthday, Sammy Davis Jr. Was playing one of his last shows at the Club Mantle. Martin and the rest had made the rounds at two other clubs before they walked into the Copacabana and took their seats at a table next to a group of

bowlers from Washington Heights. However much the Yankees and their wives drank before arriving, the bowlers were twice as strong, and normally staff ushered improperly attired or rowdy clientele to the cheap seats in the Burma Road section. The bowlers had managed to sneak past the bouncer at the door

and take a table near the stage. The bowlers became louder and louder of voicing their opinions to anyone within earshot, especially negative and racially charged comments regarding Sammy Davis Jr. Each new insult made Billy Martin angrier, and his reputation for a bad temper preceded him. He told the bowlers to stop heckling Davis or else. One of the bowlers looked over at the table and said, don't trust your luck. Yankee Hank Bauer was quick to respond and telling the

bowler to go perform a physically impossible act on himself. Meanwhile, one of the bowlers, who had been hurling insults at Davis, went to the restroom. Martin and Whitey followed. Ford's wife leaned over and asked Bower to go see what was happening. He had been a marine before landing a spot on the Yankees, so he went to ensure that there wasn't any trouble. He later told reporters that he was too late.

Bouncers had already arrived, Barrap or Whitey, he couldn't recall which one grabbed him and told him to get out of there. He claimed. He left and went back to his hotel. Around four thirty in the morning, Bower said the phone rang. A writer for the paper told him that one of the bowlers was accusing him of assault, and the next day Dan Topping, the Yankees president and part owner, called the team in. Topping told the players, that'll cost you each a grand One of the bowlers,

Edward Jones, disagreed. He had been sent to the hospital with a broken nose, a broken jaw, and a concussion, though Bauer insisted he never laid a hand on him. Jones pressed charges and filed a lawsuit. The team was closely knit and came to his defense in court. Abara told one of the reporters nobody did nothing to nobody. Mantle was asked if he had seen an unconscious man

lying on the club's floor. He replied that he had, but had no idea how he had come to be there unless Roy Rogers rode through and trigger kicked him. The jury broke into laughter. Without sufficient evidence to prove Bower had been in a fight or had hit Jones, the judge dismissed the case. The Yankees manager traded Martin to Kansas City, a Bower's position in the lineup dropped. However, Mantle wasn't punished. The manager insisted he was mad, but

not mad enough to potentially lose a pennant. American Shadows is hosted by Lauren Vogelbaum. This episode was written by Michelle Muto, researched by Ali Steed, and produced by Miranda Hawkins and Trevor Young, with executive producers Aaron Mankey, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. To learn more about the show, visit Grim and mild dot com. For more podcasts from iHeart Radio, visit the iHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Sho