My Life in Vaudeville: The Autobiography of Ed Lowry

All in One Pocket

22 All in One Pocket Any oddsmaker would have willingly laid 10-to-1 that this holy bond would come undone in six months. If our first five minutes at the Imperial Hotel had been filmed, the odds would have jumped to 100-to-1. I was in the lead, carrying a suitcase and a grip up a wide staircase. Teddy was at my heels carrying her luggage. As I swung around after reaching the landing , my grip conked her right on the top of her head. The sudden impact threw her back several steps, but in a flash, she regained her balance and came out fighting. She leaped up those remaining steps to the landing and then, with all of her might, kicked me right in the shins. Now she wheeled around and furiously started down the hall. I soon caught up to her and helped her on her way with a good swift kick in the tuchis. We didn’t notify our parents about the marriage for fear they would have it annulled. Instead, we wrote contrived stories home about happenings in School Days. For example, we suggested our folks send all our mail care of general delivery in each town because there was some scoundrel in the show who was opening everyone’s mail. Our only other problem was to earn enough money so that we could send the customary ten-dollar money order home each week. This wasn’t easy. We played one- and two-night stands in and around Buffalo, in such towns as Lancaster, Lackawanna, and Batavia. After several weeks, we contacted the Marshall Booking Agency in Cleveland, Ohio. Marshall booked us for about four weeks. We got a reasonable room at The Inn, a small theatrical hotel, and headquartered there while we played our dates in the vicinity. During the third week, I happened to notice a poster. Suddenly , my eyes popped, my pulse quickened, and I got in a panic as I read “The Honey Boy Evans Minstrels.” 23 Al l i n On e PO c k e T What would Hank say? I ran to the general-delivery window at the post office. It was there, a letter from Hank: “Just heard from the folks that you’re in Cleveland. Sure will be happy to see you, Kiddo. Reserve a big double room for us. Don’t worry about how much, either, because I’ve had nothing but good luck lately, etc., etc. Your loving brud, Hank.” Teddy hadn’t met Hank, and she was plenty difficult when I broke the news that I was going to have a new roommate to sort of clear our skirts, and then Teddy reluctantly moved into a single room. I retained the double, and the clerk promised faithfully that he would not squeal to my brother that Teddy and I were married. Hank arrived early in the morning, and we had a joyous breakfast together . We had ham and eggs, pecan waffles, and two cups of coffee. We yakked away incessantly. At eleven forty-five, Hank had to show up for his company’s parade. Teddy and I stood on the curb at Euclid Avenue and watched the Minstrels strut by to “Kentucky Days” and “Memphis Blues.” It was thrilling. The people applauded and waved, and I was crying for joy as I chased the parade down the avenue so I could catch up with Hank when it broke up. I introduced Teddy to Hank, and he invited her to have lunch with us. During lunch, I broke the news that we were not with School Days but were doing a double act, and I quickly whipped out some newspaper ads to show our billing as Lowry and Prince. “Good,” he said, “so you’re doing a double act, what’s wrong with that?” Then he reflected a moment. “You seem to be stuck on one another. I hope you’re not getting any silly ideas, you’re just a couple of punks, ya know. Ya better keep your noses clean. You’re both still wet behind the ears.” Teddy got good and riled, and she was just setting herself to get Hank told off when I placed my foot on top of hers and gave with the pressure. The tension passed, and we were soon having a gay time, trading stories, telling tall fibs, and taking pictures. In the show with Hank was a good-looking chap named Paul Van Dyke. Paul...