Word: shor
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...time Son Ralph became a published humorist (My Years in the White House Doghouse; Yes, My Darling Daughters), the Journal- American had wrapped its last fish. The son had become more prominent than his father, and the hail-'ellows in Toots Shor's who used to fawn on Paul could hardly remember his name, much less his deeds. But Ralph never for got. Editor Schoenstein died in 1974; it was probably his only instance of faulty timing. For Writer Schoenstein has produced a filial, funny book that Superman would have loved - and that anyone might admire...
Died. Bernard ("Toots") Shor, 73, Runyonesque saloonkeeper and drinking companion to the mighty and famous; of cancer; in Manhattan. Boisterous and beefy (250 lbs., 6 ft. 2 in.), Shor in his heyday would customarily quaff a bottle of brandy a night at the 54-ft. circular bar of his original Manhattan bistro. "Drinkin', that's my way of prayin'," he would say. Shor was a star-struck sports fan, and his friends ranged from the Duke of Windsor to Joe DiMaggio, from Chief Justice Earl Warren to Mobster Frank Costello. Generous and impulsive, he once dropped more...
...dear friend Vicki Sue Robinson put it somewhat differently at a party thrown at Toots Shor's last week. "Turn the beat around," she said. "I love to hit percussion, and I'd really love to hit the people who think that I'm not serious about my music...
...household that numbered four gardeners, a cook, a butler, a maid, a chauffeur (not to mention the dogs and cats). On the Pilar, Hemingway's beloved 38-ft. yacht, she was his fishing buddy. Everywhere-in the bullfight arenas of Spain, on safari in Africa, at Toots Shor's celebrity saloon in Manhattan-she was audience to an endless cycle of war stories and constant repetitions of his philosophies and jokes, including such trying catch phrases as "truly" (spoken in a "solemn voice") and "how do you like it now, gentlemen...
...around the park. Out on the field, not far from her stood Joe DiMaggio, walled in by adoring reporters. Joe Louis stood close. Strolling around the new grass, having a swell time like college kids in Fort Lauderdale, were Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford. Clutching a black cane Toots Shor watched the men on the field. It must have seemed impossible to Toots that DiMaggio was 61, or that Mantle and Ford were entering middle age: they were kids when Shor was a legend. Now that they were legends, and Dan Topping wasn't even remotely related to the Yankees...