1979
Bring on the Pink One
February 21
ProJo scribe Tony Lioce got in hot water when he dared to tell the truth
about the the refurbished Biltmore. Max Alexander got the scoop.
Last Thursday afternoon the Providence Journal-Bulletin bounced reporter
Tony Lioce from his four-night-a-week column and so magnified an ongoing rift
between reporters and management. Editor-in-chief Charles Hauser said Lioce,
who chose to return to his old Newport desk instead of taking a city beat, was
released from the column after a six-week trial period; but reporters at a
special meeting held Friday afternoon speculated that the real reason for
Lioce's demotion was his controversial Biltmore story last Tuesday.
"Welcome to the Biltmore! P.S. Bring Money -- plenty," read the headline, and
an unflattering portrayal of the new, elite hotel followed.
The Journal-Bulletin Company, a privately owned monopoly, has a $250,000 share
in the Biltmore. When asked if the story influenced the decision to reassign
Lioce, Hauser replied, "Good God, no!"
. . . Meanwhile, sources at the Journal indicate staff writer Mark
Patinkin has been offered the column.
Swinging genius party
March 21
Rudy Cheeks headed to the Venus de Milo, "a little bit of Vegas
transplanted to southern New England," to take in the Providence Newspaper
Guild Follies. A splendid time was had by all.
Apparently the other 1,100 ticket holders had the same idea we did: get
there early for a good seat and TWO FREE DRINKS. One quick trip around the
joint and I realized it was celebrity city -- Senator Pell and Julie Michaelson
exchanging pleasantries on a couch in the lobby, Eddie Beard shadowboxing in
the men's room, Claudine Schneider radiant in 1971 vintage India Import togs,
Mayor Cianci doing the Buddy (a dance similar to the Virginia Reel in that it
features a lot of hand-tugging) . . . I spotted Sal Mancini of hardware and
local political fame doing the Buddy just a few tables from ours. I bet [Leo's
owner John] Rector a drink that he was wearing white shoes. Rector saw me the
drink and raised me two that he had on a white belt as well. As it turned out,
we were both wrong, so we settled on Rector buying me a drink.
A clean "dirty" theater
April 4
There's one on every block these days, but 20 years ago "exotic
dancing" lived up to its name. Jim Mitchell went to West Warwick to experience
the Palace Theater.
While the neighbors struggle along, the Palace dashes ahead, rising
rapidly to the top of its class. The Palace may soon be the Burlesque Capitol
of the East. The Atlantic City of stripdom. The Carnegie Hall of exotic
dancing. If John Tavone gets his way . . . Smut peddler, pornographer,
Sodomite, corrupter of morals, sex merchant, pig -- John Tavone has been called
them all. It doesn't bother him. The Palace is his business, his life. It's
legal; it's profitable; and it's his. He only wants to be the best at what he
does. He seems to sum it all up best himself:
"My only crime is that not everybody agrees with me."
If you can make it there . . .
April 18
Ben Mondor acquired the Pawtucket Red Sox in 1977. He quickly turned the AAA
franchise in a first-class organization. John Crisologo and John Rufo met the
man at McCoy Stadium.
The new owner rebuilt the team and restored the confidence of the greater Pawtucket community. "At first nobody wanted to know me, now people
are calling us," he said. Ben has also established a good working, and
personal, relationship with his ballplayers. "Let's put it this way, the boys
give me a party at the end of every year. I'm the only owner who ever got a
party from his own ball club." He continued, "These kids lead a gypsy life.
Pawtucket offers them a sense of stability. They know that when you come to
Pawtucket, you've got it made."
Changing tides
July 25
Newport is booming once more, but Tom Gannon noted that there was a
bit of a lull in the City-By-the-Sea at the end of the '70s.
Gone is the pleasant optimism of 1974 and '75 when Newporters really
believed they could reap the benefits of the New Tourism without paying the
price; gone is the spontaneous sense of play, replaced with a kind of frantic
energy reminiscent of Cape Cod on a bad night. Now the wharf is as much a
stockyard as anything, and whatever collective spirit the young, unkempt crowd
may generate is penned in by ropes and brown-uniformed guards who strictly
enforce the Black Pearl's monument to bad grammar: "No Alcoholic Beverages Pass
This Point."
Nuclear power
October 17
Andy Webb was among the 3,500 members of the Clamshell Alliance who
traveled to New Hampshire to protest at the Seabrook nuclear plant. His
report:
We join forces at the home of a resident ally, forming columns four
abreast. We march down railroad tracks, turn through the woods and cross a
company road into a storage area and head for the fence. But up ahead, we are
being routed, our columns now evenly round a human pylon urging us to move
together. The police curse and shove with their sticks, spraying Mace. We stop
and amass on a grassy knoll at the edge of the storage area; our fringe is
lined with police. Standoff.
But on signal the machines sweep in, Macing and prodding with sticks. They are
worked up, some bellowing at those who resist like enraged bullmen. A woman
passively resisting is picked up by two uniforms, a stick through her belt
loop, and carried off. Even reporters are Maced and clubbed.The police have
taken off their badge numbers, securing anonymity.
Beaten back.
Birth of the blues
October 31
Bob Angell recalled the birth of the Tombstone Blues Band in a piece
about their Halloween night reunion.
Twelve years ago this month, entrepreneur Bob Bovi hired a young blues
'n' folk singer called Ken Lyon to entertain at Bovi's Tavern in East
Providence as a solo act.
The ads read: "KEN LYON -- musicians invited to sit in."
Mark Taber, a pianist of the first order and steeped in Otis Spann since 1957,
first joined Ken on stage . . . then a bassist . . . a guitar player . . .
Slowly but slowly the thing fell together 'til one night, after hours, sitting
'round the bar, they came up with the name Tombstone Blues Band. "And I had to
start paying all of them," laughs Bovi.
Till death do us part
November 14
Jean Rawson's story on the plight of battered women in Rhode Island
contained this telling passage:
In Rhode Island, the 8,000 women suffering physical abuse in the home
each year have difficulty getting aid from the state. Ann relates her
experience: "At one point I went to Welfare to ask for help when I was 17, and
they said, `You're either the property of your parents or the property of your
husband until you're 18 years old, and we're not going to do anything.' " . . .
Ann's story underlines the attitude of policemen like Captain Milton P. Wilson,
a detective chief with the Providence Police Department, who told a
Journal-Bulletin reporter in 1977, "Battered women are not a prevalent
problem as far as I'm concerned. I feel a good marriage counselor could take
care of the husband/ wife thing better than we can."
Boo-Who
December 12
In the wake of the trampled-fan tragedy at the Riverfront Coliseum in
Cincinnati, Mayor Cianci pulled the plug on a Who date at the Civic Center.
Peter Donahue reported on the flap.
Ever since the 1968 Sly and the Family Stone melee at the Rhode Island
Auditorium, Providence City Hall has waged a tug-of-war relationship with rock
concert promoters. Last summer's Bad Company concert at the Civic Center, with
its trash and broken bottles littering the Civic Center's premises, invited a
maelstrom of criticism from local merchants, civic officials, as well as the
community. Cianci threatened to ban "acid rock" concerts but later relented.
A week ago last Monday, only hours after the tragedy, Cianci conferred with
Public Safety Commissioner Sanford H. Gorodetsky over the matter. Gorodetsky
agreed with the Mayor: under no circumstances would the Who concert at the
Civic Center be permitted . . .
With that, Cianci became the mayor of the only city to cancel the Who.
1978 |
1980 |
1981 |
1982 |
1983 |
1984 |
1985 |
1986 |
1987 |
1988 |
1989 |
1990 |
1991 |
1992 |
1993 |
1994 |
1995 |
1996 |
1997 |
1998 |