Copyright © 2022 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett
Joseph S. Sosman tried to interest both of his stepsons in the scenic studio business during the 1890s and early 1900s. Neither was interested in a backstage career. They wanted to shine on stage. Today I focus on the life and career of Sosman’s youngest stepson, Frederic P. Sosman.
There were two Fred Sosman’s who worked at Sosman & Landis: Frederick H. Sosman, Sr. (1866-1941), Joseph Sosman’s nephew, and Frederic P. Sosman (1882-1946), Joseph Sosman’s stepson. Here is the link to my post about the nephew – Frederick H. Sosman: https://drypigment.net2022/03/26/sosman-landis-shaping-the-landscape-of-american-theatre-employee-no-84-fred-h-sosman-sr/
On April 16, 1890, Joseph Sosman married divorcee May Pinney Jones (1858-1947). Jones was previously married to Benjamin Hodge Jones, who deserted her and the boys in 1886. Joe Sosman adopted his two stepsons in 1890. At the time, Arthur Benjamin Jones (1878-1929) was twelve years old and his brother and Frederick Pinney Jones (1882-1946) was eight years old. The boys’ names also changed at this point, becoming Arthur Burton Sosman and Frederic Pinney Sosman. It was less of an issue for Frederick, as only the “k” was dropped from his first name; effectively erasing his connection to his paternal grandfather Frederick N. Jones.
Over the years, Joseph S. Sosman repeatedly employed the two boys, but they were more interested in the performance than any technical theatre project. Fred. H. Sosman became a vaudeville performer, and was primarily known for his comedic performances and singing. He was fortunate to be born into a wealthy family, one that could afford to nurture his musical interests at an early age. Like his older brother, Fred as also able to attend a variety of events specifically planned for children of well-to-do Chicagoans. For example, on Dec. 27, 1895, “The Chicago Chronicle” listed both F. P. Sosman and his brother on the guest list for Children’s Night at the Illinois Club (page 12). The article detailed, “Children of all ages from little toddlers in kilts to the boys and girls with their first evening dress flocked to the Illinois Club yesterday afternoon and evening, on the occasion of the annual children’s party.” From 9 p.m. until 11p.m. the older boys and girls were given exclusive use of the dancing hall.”
By the time Fred was 22 yrs. old, he married his first wife. On Dec. 18, 1904, the “Chicago Tribune” announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Joseph S. Sosman announce the marriage of their son, Mr. Frederic P. Sosman, to Miss Elzie Holbrook in St. Paul” (page 25). Their marriage was registered in Minnesota, noting a marriage date of Nov. 3, 1904, in St. Paul. Later newspaper accounts purported that their marriage was very short-lived, purportedly lasting only eight months. It may have been his theatrical career that terminated the relationship. In the beginning, Sosman travelled quite a bit from one town to the next. He performed a solo act and was part of a touring line-up. On April 4, 1908, the “Los Angeles Herald,” announced that Sosman was performing at the Orpheum in Los Angeles. On May 29, 1908, he was part of amateur night at Chutes Theatre in San Francisco. His time on the road ended about 1908, when he returned to Chicago and began working at a wholesale millinery company during the day. At night, he performed at the Olympic theater and a handful of other Chicago venues. On July 19, 1908, the “Chicago Examiner” reported that “Fred Sosman, a Chicago singer and impersonator” was performing at the Olympic Theatre (page 3). I have yet to locate the name of the millinery firm he was working for about this time, and wonder if it was another business entity founded and subsidized by his stepfather, or Sosman & Landis.
In 1909, Sosman performed at the Majestic Theatre and was billed as “a Chicago boy who has made a name for himself as a singer” (“Arlington Heights,” 5 Nov. 1909, page 5). He primarily played in ballrooms and other dining establishments. By 1910, Sosman was part of the entertainment at the Café Savoy, located on Harrison and Wabash (Chicago Examiner 27 March 1910, page 52).
When he was 30 yrs. old, Sosman married his second wife. Their wedding made theatrical news. On Tuesday, May 7, 1912, the “Chicago Examiner” reported, “Jest Hurries Up a Wedding. Back to Stage for Funds.” The article continued, “Mrs. Frederick P. Sosman, until last Saturday Miss Evelyn Leckie. Forty friends of Mr. and Mrs. Frederick P. Sosman – they were married unexpectedly last Saturday – assembled last night in the Willard Theater, Calumet avenue and Fifty-first street, and gave the bridegroom a rousing reception when he reappeared behind the footlights, in a determined effort to furnish a flat for his bride in a hurry.
Mrs. Sosman formerly was Miss Evelyn Leckie of 4512 Racine avenue. Her husband was a vaudeville performer, but two years ago gave up the stage to engage in business.
Meeting a year ago, the couple announced their engagement, several months since, at the marriage of Miss Harrier Gorman, daughter of James Gorman, vice-president of the Rock Island Railroad, to D. A. Hack. Their friends believed the wedding was to take place in June, but last Saturday afternoon the two attended a luncheon at the Hotel La Salle, and then one of the guests rallied them on deferring the ceremony Mr. Sosman left the table, saying he would return shortly.
He did – with a marriage license. Half an hour later after the luncheon party was assembled before a South Side clergyman as a wedding party, and then came dinner, at which Mr. ad Mrs. Sosman were guests of honor. Meanwhile Mr. Sosman was doing some quick thinking. His plans for June wedding had included the furnishing of a dainty little flat at 4645 Hazel avenue, for which he had signed a lease. The hasty marriage rendered ready cash imperative, so he hied himself to a theatrical manager and quickly got a two weeks’ booking at local theaters at his old profession – character singing. Last night was his opening. During the day he attends to his business with a wholesale millinery concern and for two weeks he will tread the boards. Friends last night sought to encourage both Mr. Sosman and the management of the theater.
This is Mr. Sosman’s second matrimonial venture. Three years ago, he married a St. Paul girl, and they were divorced eight months later” (Vol. 10, no. 118, page 5).
Later that summer, Sosman’s performance at the Lincoln Theatre in Chicago was announced in the June issue of the “Clipper” (page 12). His performance was assisted by Clay Coolidge. Sosman continued to sporadically perform at a variety of establishments for the next few years. By 1913, he was performing with “professional dancers” at the Moraine’s open air cabaret in Highland Park (Highland Park Press, 14 Aug 1913, page 12). This, like many others, was a short engagement, and nothing that prompted rave reviews.
In 1914, Sosman was billed as “King of the Cabaret.” On June 9, 1914, the “Detroit Free Press” reported, “With a whole flock of new ‘Broadway Hits,” Fred Sosman, justly styled ‘King of the Cabaret” comes to Edelweiss for a limited summer engagement. Many vaudeville devotees will recall Mr. Sosman as a Keith headliner, for it was not so long ago that Sosman adorned the boards along with Bert Williams and other celebrities. Fred Sosman has the ability which folks along New York’s ‘Big White Lane’ term the ‘Speed ‘em Up Stuff.” You can’t keep from shuffling your feet when Sosman is working. Mr. Sosman’s entertainment does not consist of coarse comedy. His fun is of the clear, sparkling kind – in short, the work of an artist. The ‘King of Cabaret’ handles dialect work as cleverly as straightaway stuff and, during his Edelweiss stay will feature some humorous talking songs.” Speed became his hallmark for the next decade. His performing career eventually began to take off by 1915, putting a little more spending money in Sosman’s pockets. On Jan. 26, 1915, the “Chicago Examiner” listed Fred P. Sosman, 803 Wilson Avenue, as the owner of three Hupmobiles (page 18). Sosman’s automobiles offered other performance opportunities too. On May 17, 1915, Sosman was mentioned as part of a prank in the “Chicago Examiner.” The article reported, “Actors Stage Auto Drama in Street. Several performers at the Wilson Avenue Theater, near Broadway staged a little drama on the street last night. Mrs. Frederick Allen, appearing at the theater, walked in front of an automobile driven by Fred Sosman, 803 Wilson avenue. Allen, when he saw his wife struck, seized Sosman and started to beat him, but ceased when he found Mrs. Allen was uninjured” (page 25). I wonder how badly Sosman was injured before he was able to explain everything was a prank.
As with most vaudeville acts, newspaper reviews were not always kind, some considered his performance mediocre at best. On August 27, 1915, he was mentioned in the “Stage Jottings” section of the “Daily Tribune” in Terre Haute, Indiana: “Fred Sosman has a couple of very good songs which he reserves for the finish of his otherwise so-so act.” It may have been the critic, or the timing, but it was a difficult period for Sosman. Two weeks prior to this performance, his stepfather passed away in Lake Bluff, Illinois. The death of Joseph S. Sosman meant that everyone put their own lives on hold to manage the estate and assume certain business responsabilties. Until his passing, no one truly understood the financial balls that Joe Sosman had continued to juggle over the years. Initially, Fred’s older brother was appointed vice-president of Sosman & Landis. However, their mother, May P. Sosman, assumed the role by 1916. During this time, Thomas G. Moses was elected president of the firm, a position he occupied until 1918. In 1915, Moses wrote, “It is very strange to me that I had never given this change of the business a thought. I had never thought of Sosman dying.”
By fall of 1916, Fred left Chicago, temporarily relocating to Detroit. On October 22, 1916, the “Chicago Examiner” reported, Mrs. Frederic P. Sosman and son, Frederic Jr., departed yesterday for Detroit to join Mr. Sosman, They will pass the Winter in Detroit in their new home, 1601 West Grand boulevard” (page 23). It was about this time that Sosman began touring in earnest again, and soon found a partner.
Sosman’s WWI draft registration card listed him as tall, slender with brown eyes and dark brown hair. At the time he was an actor with the Western Vaudeville Managers Association, with a permanent residence at 4540 Clarendon Chicago. In 1917, Sosman partnered with Gladys Sloan. Sloan was a musical prodigy. She first studied music in Centralia, Illinois, but in 1916, temporarily relocated south to St. Louis, Missouri, where she continued post-graduate classes at the Beethoven Conservatory of Music (Centralia Evening Sentinel, 8 July 1916, page 3). By the fall of 1916, Sloan was performing at the Winter Garden in Chicago (“Chicago Examiner, 5 Nov. 1916, page 95). The next year, she had partnered with Sosman and the two performed at the Empire room in the Grand Pacific Hote, located on Jackson Boulevard and Clark St. (“Chicago Examiner, 18 Sept 1917, page 3).
An advertisement placed in the “Chicago Examiner” on Oct. 15, 1917, reported that they were performing “old and new songs” in the Empire Room, stating, “Here our guests can enjoy dinner of supreme quality, and an entertainment of the Highest order in an environment of quiet elegance. They continued to perform at the Empire Room, billing Fred Sosman at “king of the entertainers” and Gladys Sloan as “the girl with the personality” (“Chicago Examiner, 20 Jan 1918, page 33). By the end of the year, Sosman & Sloan appeared at the Bismarck Garden. On Dec. 9, 1917, the “Chicago Examiner” reported, “Fred Sosman & Gladys Sloan in a varied program of new song ‘hits’ and old time favorites will begin an engagement at the Marigold room Monday night. Mr. Sosman wins his audience at every performance. Miss Sloan is noted for her beautiful soprano voice, attractive personality and artistic gowns” (page 46). Sloan was even pictured in the “Chicago Examiner” on Dec. 16. 1917. It was captioned, “A Marigold Merrymaker.” The caption below Sloan’s picture explained that Sloan was one of the attractions at the North Side Garden, “which forgets name of Bismarck.” The newly named Marigold Garden was described as “the Bismarck under its new name,” and announced, “Fred Sosman and Gladys Sloan share hoors with Muriel De Forrest, the latter introducing several new dancing specialties” (page 44).
By the end of the 1919, Sosman & Sloan performed a new act – “Down Nonsense Lane.” Their tour that winter included stops at both the Columbia Theatre in Davenport and the Palace Theatre in Rock Island. On Dec. 20, 1919, the “Rock Island Argus” reported, “’Down Nonsense Lane,’ which is the offering of Fred Sosman and Gladys Sloan, is a neat singing and character act that will no doubt be one of the hits on the new bill” (page 8). Other reviews for their act at the Palace Theatre reported, “Fred Sosman and Gladys Sloan have a rapid fire line of chatter, shot through with some classical tomfoolery” (Rock Island Argus, 22 Dec. 1919, page 5).
Sosman & Sloan were still performing “Down Nonsense Lane” in the spring of 1920, appearing at the Empress Theatre in Decatur (Decatur Daily Review, 17 March 1920, page 5). Sosman continued to perform on his own too. Later that year, Fred Sosman was advertised as “a lively boy with good shape and good clothes, and he, too, has a personality.”
Meanwhile, Sosman was still married on paper. The 1920 US Federal Census Report listed Evelyn and Fred Sosman as part of the William Leckie household – this was Evelyn’s father. At the time, members of the household included: William Leckie (64 yrs.), Anna Leckie (60 yrs.), Evelyn Sosman (31 yrs.), Frederick Sosman (36 yrs.) and Frederick Sosman Jr. (4), William was working as a bank teller, with Frederic P. Sosman listed as a vaudeville actor.
Sosman continued to tour with Sloan until 1923. In 1921, Sosman and Sloan were crossing the country, performing “Just Us” to vaudeville audiences as part of the B. F. Keith circuit. (Lowell Sun 3 Jan 1921, page 26). That spring they played in theaters that spanned from Lowell, Massachusetts to Helena, Montana. At some point, Sosman left his wife, became blind, and remarried, but it was not to Sloan.
They two performed together until the spring of 1923. On Jan. 5, 1923, the “Ogden Standard Examiner” reported, “Between Dances” is the title of the diverting offering of Fred Sosman & Gladys Sloan, in which a lovers’ violent quarrel is aired to the delight of the entire crowd, Before the affair is over, however, the quarrel is amicably settled and in fact forgotten in the midst of some appealing songs” (page 10). On Feb. 10.1923, “The Commercial Appeal” in Memphis, Tennessee, reported, “Miss Gladys Sloan, charming and vivacious song and patter star of Pantages circuit, and Mr. Fred Sosman, her partner, life and otherwise, featured the splendid concert. Their song and monolgue numbers were thoroughly enjoyable” (page 4).
On Feb 21, the “Indianapolis Star” reported:
“In Between Dances,” a comedy act presented at the Lyric this week by Fred Sosman & Gladys Sloan, is a combination of repartee and songs. Mr. Sosman and Miss Sloan recently entered vaudeville after extended engagements at the Moulin Rouge and Café DeParnee, New York, and the Marigold Gardens, Chicago. Miss Sloan was formerly engaged in concert work. Mr. Sosman is the son of Sosman of the famous firm of scenic artists Sosman & Landis. For several years he specialized in landscape painting, and has been awarded prizes for his work at exhibits in New York, Chicago and London.”
The advertisement for Sosman & Sloan that I have located is from March 18, 1923, in the “Detroit Free Press” (page 64). They were performing at the Chas. H. Miles Theatre.
His relationship with Sloan ended during the spring of 1923. By fall, Gladys Sloan & Co. was performing at Loew’s Delancey Street Theater in Nashville (“The Tennessean, 11 Sept. 1923, page 8). It was about this time, that Sosman briefly retired from the stage and met his third wife, Zelma. She convinced him to return to acting, despite his disability.
On Nov. 3, 1924, “The Indianapolis Star” reported, “’I’m sure there could be no objection to that,” is the assertation of Fred Sosman when he offers his skit which was written by Aaron Hoffman, the author of ‘Welcome Stranger’” (page 3).
On Nov. 9, 1924, “The Star Press” of Muncie, Indiana, mentioned Sosman’s new vaudeville act. The article reported, “When you want anything done it is a good plan to go to an expert. That is what Fred Sosman, the irresistible comedian did when looking for a new vaudeville vehicle. Fred wanted a new act, so after careful deliberation he applied to Aaron Hoffman, author of :Friendly Enemies” and “Welcome Stranger.” Mr. Hoffman’s effort for Fred Sosman has been called, “I’m sure there could be no objections to that” and is said to be one pf the cleverest monologues being used in vaudeville. Mr. Sosman also renders a couple of comedy songs that are said to be on par with the spoken lines” (page 15). His new act was entitled, “Songs and Chatter.” Written by Dolph Singer and Harry Von Tilzer, authors of many song hits and vaudeville skits.
On Nov. 24, 1924, the Lima News (Ohio) reported, “It is heralded as one of the cleverest monologues being used in vaudeville today. Sosman also renders a couple of comedy songs that are said to be on par with the spoken lines” (page 7).
He continued to perform solo. On Oct. 25, 1925, “The Indianapolis Star” reported that Sosman was performing at the Palace Theatre: “Fred Sosman is the eccentric comedian who, in black face, chatters and sings” (page 45).
By 1926, the Sosman’s moved East, settling in Montclar, New Jersey. Sosman’s health continued to fail, prompting his wife Zelma to open a tea room at 49 Park Manor to supplement their income. The last newspaper advertisements that I have located for Sosman’s vaudeville act are from 1927. On Jan. 28, 1927, Sosman performed at the Grand Opera House in Webster Groves, Missouri. He was still performing “Songs and Chatter.” An article in the “News-Times” reported, “‘Songs and Chatter’ is the title of the vehicle of Fred Sosman, and irresistible comedian, and the offering is said to be one of the cleverest monologues in vaudeville. Sosman also sings several screamingly funny numbers written especially for him by Dolf Singer and Harry Von Tilzer” (page 3).
By the spring of 1929, Fred and Zelma Sosman were living in Montclair, New Jersey. On April 20, 1929, the “Montclair Times” announced a dinner party hosted by Mr. and Mrs. Frederic P. Sosman of 49 Park St.” (page 1). Mrs. Frederic P. Sosman hosted a birthday lunch and bridge party a few weeks later. However, Sosman was listed as a bling theatrical actor in the 1930 US Federal Census. In 1930,The Sosman household included Frederick P. Sosman (42 yrs.) Zelma W. Sosman (34 yrs.), Iris W. L. Sosman (44 yrs.), and Bonnie Ferie (22 yrs.). Ferie was listed as a roomer and actress. Fred listed that he married at the age of 37, suggesting that he and Zelma married in 1923, the same year his eyesight failed and his vaudeville act with Sloan ended.
Interestingly, the 1929 Aurora Illinois Directory listed Evelyn Sosman as the widow of F. P. Sosman, now residing at 437 N. Highland Ave. Fred didn’t die, he just remarried. I find it fascinating that this was the same thing Fred’s mother did when his own birth father deserted them in 1886; mother May had declared herself a widow. Keep in mind that it was often more respectable to explain you were a widow, than deserted or divorced.
By the end of 1930, the Sosman’s closed their tea room in Montclair and temporarily headed south to Zelma’s home in Atlanta, Georgia. On Dec. 13, 1930, “The Montclair Times” announced, “Park Manor at 49 Park street, which for the past four years has been conducted by Mrs. Zelma Sosman, closed yesterday. Mr. and Mrs. Sosman, and the latter’s sister, Mrs. Iris Lewis, are motoring to Atlanta Ga., where they will make their new home” (page 19).
I was a bit shocked when I first encountered the 1930 census listing for Sosman as a “blind theatrical actor,” wondering what exactly happened; specifically, how he lost his sight and managed to keep performing. Although his performance career ended in the 1930s, I was able to locate Sosman in WWI draft records, realizing that he eventually returned to Chicago. In 1942, Sosman’s WWII draft registration described him as 6’-2” tall, with brown hair, gray eyes, and light complexion. He was listed as Blind – non ambulatory paralysis. He wrote that the person who would always know where he was Mrs. Zelma Sosman 800 Buena Ave. Chicago. He passed away four years later at the age of sixty years old.
On Nov. 30, 1946, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “Frederic P. Sosman, 60, former vaudeville monologist and character singer, died yesterday in a sanitarium in Lake Zurich, Lake country. He is survived by his widow, Zelma; a son, Frederic Jr. and his mother, May. Services will be held at 10 a.m. Monday in the chapel at 5501 N. Ashland av.” (page 20). On Dec. 1, 1946, the “Chicago Tribune” published his obituary:
“SOSMAN – Frederic Pinney Sosman, Sr., of 800 Buena avenue, Nov. 29, 1946, beloved husband of Zelma Sosman, fond father of Frederic P. Jr., dear son of May P. Sosman. At chapel, 5501 N. Ashland avenue, where services will be held Monday, Dec. 2, at 10 a.m.. Interment Graceland.” (page 79).
It was not until I started to track down the life of his third wife, Zelma, that the story of Sosman’s life from 1923 to 1946 years came to light. I am going to include the entire article about Zelma Sosman, as I find her life both fascinating and inspiring. The article was written by Jean Tyson and entitled “Aunt Zel,” published in “The Atlanta Constitution” on April 28, 1974 (page 117). The caption above her picture read, “She can’t find time to complain; life is beautiful.”
The article continued:
“Zelma Sosman is too busy enjoying life to complain about anything – even the fact she has difficulty seeing.
“I have done everything I ever wanted to do,” Aunt Zel, as she prefers to be called, said. “I have gone everywhere, and I tell you kid, I have had a good time, and I’m still having a good time.
“I would be an ungrateful old woman if I sat here and complained about anything. I haven’t missed a thing. Of course I have gone through reverses, illnesses and things like this, but I can’t complain. I don’t know a woman who has more love and friends.
Aunt Zel began her life 82 years ago May 8, in Atlanta. She grew up on her grandfather’s, Dr. Joseph Hollingsworth, farm of 100 acres.
“The farm was at Highland and Virginia – that was out of the city. I watched them pave Ponce de Leon. I still have scars on my knees,” she said pulling up her long purple dress far enough to show them, “from falling on my bicycle on that pavement.”
The years in between her growing up in Atlanta, and her return in 1957, were filled with travel. She first married a doctor in Birmingham, Ala., which ended in divorce.
She followed this with marriage to Gene Dumont, a silent movie film actor. After Dumont’s death, she married Fred Sosman, who told jokes, stories and sand in every Vaudeville house in the United States.
“When I left the doctor, I went to Chicago and got a job on a newspaper called the Women’s Press. It was a William Jennings Bryant paper (printed no liquor ads). I had never worked a day in my life, but I started out selling subscriptions to the paper over the telephone. Then I became circulation manager and started writing a fashion notes column called Mademoiselle Chica. I wasn’t a fashion columnist, just wrote fashion notes.
She went to California and met Dumont at a baseball game.
“My brother was on the stage. He had to change his name because Grandfather wouldn’t have liked it. He wanted me and my sister, Iris, to come out. So we went just because we had never been to California.
“We were at a baseball game and Fatty Arbuckle was in the box next to us. This man sitting there kept blowing smoke over me. Finally he leaned over and said, “Is this smoke bothering you?” I said, “Oh, goodness no, I’m enjoying it.”
“He wanted to know if he could join me and my sister and I said yes. The next day he came and took us for a ride and we were thrilled.
“He wanted to marry me, but I said I didn’t want to marry him, because if I did something would happen to our relationship. I left and returned to Chicago, and told him not to call. But he did call and said he was going on location for a movie and wanted me there. I went back to California and married him. “We had a grand time, and everything was so exciting, but he died, and I returned to Chicago again.
“I met Fred Sosman through his sister-in-law. We worked together in the same department store. Fred had left the stage because he had become blind.
“I didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t be on stage. He was a very handsome and talented man, and you would never know he was blind.
“His audience didn’t even know it. I put a little raised fringe on a rug and it was placed at the footlights. When Fred got to this, he knew he was in the right place.
“You could eat a meal with him and never know he was blind. In a restaurant, he would be carrying on a conversation with you and all the time you could see his hands going over the eating utensils. He was learning which fork and which spoon was where. When the meal came, he would pick up the proper utensil and eat, never making a mistake.
“We traveled the vaudeville circuit about ten years. One year I played piano accompaniment for him, but it made me too nervous and I had to give it up.
“We were in Montclair, N. J. when I saw the handwriting on the wall. I knew Fred was sick and we would have to leave the road. So I decided to open a tea room – that was something I knew we could do. I made pies and cakes and did most of the cooking. We didn’t have a customer for a month, and finally one day a group of businessmen came.
“The depression followed, and we returned to Chicago. I had 25 cents when we got there, so we moved in with Fred’s mother.
“One knight I was talking with a sweet dear friend and I said if I have $600 I could go into business. She told me if she had $600 I could have it, but she didn’t. Soon after this conversation her husband was killed and she collected some insurance,. She loaned me $600.
“I found a house with 13 rooms which I rented for $200 a month and turned it into a boarding house. I didn’t have any furniture for it.
I went to a local store and sold items to boarding house, hotels and such. The man there wanted to know how much I could pay down on all the stuff, and I told him $200. He let me have over $6,000 worth of items for only $200 down. I rented rooms for $10 a week, and nobody in my boarding house was a problem.”
She gave up the house and rented a second one with 32 rooms. After a time, she bought a house with 13 rooms and then one with 15 rooms.
“This last one is torn down now,” Aunt Zel said,” and has a 35 story building there.
“I went into the boarding house business because I didn’t know what else I could do, and stay home and take care of Fred.
“The opera stars at that time used to come and visit us at the house – people like Tagliavinia and Carlo Costelleni. My niece was studying at the National Conservatory of Music and she met the stars through her voice teacher.
“My sister Iris and I were never separated except during the years Fred and I were on the road. When Fred died in 1946, we continued to run the boarding house.
“In 1957, Iris was wanting to move back to Atlanta so we did. We had a little house here and one night we were sitting around and talking about how quiet the house was.
“We both had the same idea – take in boarders. We rented to some nice young men who stayed with us for several years.
Aunt Zel’s sister died five years after returning to Atlanta. So she moved to the Palmer house, the 17th floor which she calls the penthouse. Here she lives in her own apartment overlooking the city. Her niece, Iris White, looks in on her.
“Aunt Zel suffered a minor stroke last year, which temporarily put an end to her jogging up and down the halls of her apartment building.
“I have started doing slow jogging again. I don’t guess you can call it jogging because I don’t lift my feet high enough. I’s more like a slow run.
“I was thinking about streaking out to the elevator to meet you today, but you got here a little early.
“People say teen-agers today are vulgar and I don’t believe it. I don’t believe the teen-agers are half as sex crazed as they were 50 years ago.
“You know I still hear from the boys and girls who lived in my boarding houses. They are all over the world now and have families of their own, but they still keep in touch with me.
“I sure have had a full life – still having it. I still love to go places and I go. You know life is just beautiful, I can’t find a thing to complain about.”
To be continued…
