JOY’S JOURNAL
/REMEMBER THAT FIRST NIGHT AT THE HOTEL VANCOUVER?
Remembering The Hotel, The Night, and the Band
Noting that the venerable Fairmont Hotel Vancouver has just reopened, I wonder if you would recall who actually played at the grand opening of this imposing structure in 1939.
Dubbed The Castle in the City, it was the tallest building in Vancouver and more than one thousand guests, in long formal gowns and tuxedoes, had been invited to a gala dinner and dance evening with music by the celebrated Len Hopkins and his ten-piece orchestra.
This entire event was a very big deal and CN’s top brass wanted the best of everything, so Len and his orchestra were whisked from their usual bandstand at the posh Chateau Laurier in Ottawa to play for this auspicious affair. He and the band played through September before returning to Ottawa and the Chateau.
But he did take time during those five months to woo and wed local girl, Margaret Gilchrist, with the ceremony taking place in the new hotel.
Len and the band also played for several weeks at the Jasper Park Lodge where his celebrity singer was Bing Crosby.
Len also discovered Chinatown and The Only in 1939 and found it a real happening place and THE place to go for fresh seafood.
But times change.
MEANWHILE, DOWN AT THE ONLY
As Len’s son, John Hopkins, a certified association executive {who is also my cousin) recalled “The Only was a café-type ‘greasy spoon’ on Hastings near Main and had been there forever. This was no longer the best part of town and The Only had the distinction of being the last restaurant in Vancouver without a bathroom. This was because its operating license was issued long before the bylaw about bathrooms in restaurants became mandatory.
“Over the front door, there was a large neon-lit seahorse that flashed on and off and rocked back and forth.”
When John was working in Gastown he would meet his father at the Shelley building on Pender and stroll to The Only for lunch. Seating at The Only consisted of two booths that seated four and a large U-shaped counter with stools that sat about 20 people.
“We were never fortunate enough to get a booth so we’d wait in line and when two stools opened up, we’d park ourselves down and wait to be served. The one and only waitress would put in front of us a clean knife, fork and spoon on top of a thin paper napkin. On a side plate would be a thick slice of fresh-baked bread and one patty of butter. Then she would take our order.”
There were no menus but what was available was posted on a chalkboard and it was usually seafood.
“We never knew who would be seated next to us. It might be an investment banker or a lawyer in a three-piece suit, a policeman taking a break, a prostitute having a square meal, or a rough-looking construction worker. None of us really cared who sat beside us because we were all there for the food. And boy, was it ever good! My Dad and I usually ordered steamed clams that came with an empty side bowl.
“The clams would be heaped so high that it looked like a black mountain. We’d work our way through the clams, using the second bowl for the discarded shells – and then there was the broth. The broth was the absolute best and we used the bread to soak up every drop.
“After Dad died, I never went back to The Only. Probably because it was a special place for us, to be remembered with nostalgia as the years drift by. I remember reading that the Only was closed because of health violations and never reopened. The neon seahorse out front was taken down but the memory of The Only still remains as a recollection of another time, when things were different.”
BACK AT THE HOTEL VANCOUVER
Franco Anglesio, Passionate Italian Host
Speaking of the Hotel Vancouver, one of her longtime general managers was the delightful Franco Anglesio who passed away a few months ago of a sudden heart attack.
Franco had worked in the hotel industry for more than 50 years. As his obituary noted at the time, he was a straight shooter, Italian, passionate, kind, driven and had the heartiest laugh known to mankind.
I vividly recall hearing that laugh all day long a few years ago as Vancouver prepared to welcome the world to Expo 86.
With all the major world leaders expected to attend, our country’s security forces were practicing for any eventuality. That was when the RCMP’s Don Bender of the VIP Security Section approached Franco and I and asked if we would play the (fictional) visiting prime minister of (fictional) Europa, Lorenzo and his wife, Angelique, in a day-long security test involving RCMP and the Vancouver Police Department.
Since most of the security attention would centre on Franco, I was advised to do my best to be a general nuisance. The joint forces would be unaware of the planned demonstrations and terrorist activities the organizers had arranged.
Our day started at 8:30 a.m. at YVR where we were greeted by government officials and whisked by a seven-car motorcade and 12 of the VPD’s finest motorcycle policemen to our suite at The Four Seasons. These burley bikers were superb, thoroughly trained to the nth degree.
They stayed with us all day. From the official visit to City Hall to coffee at the hotel to a Coast Guard inspection by the prime minister and a shopping spree for the Mrs. to UBC, Expo, Jericho, BC Place Stadium and Oakridge, our security force never wavered.
They may have blushed, for instance, when Angelique (me) decided to go to the Ladies Room at City Hall and queried whether they should come with her. When she insisted on their opinion on how she’d look in some lacy lingerie in Pacific Centre, they never wavered.
They may have also wanted to wring her (my) neck when the surprise terrorist attack occurred on the PM”s limo at Jericho and she gave a horrendous ear-splitting scream. Or when she imperiously demanded that the entire motorcade halt at a Baskin Robbins on Cornwall so she could have a chocolate ice cream cone.
Or when she ordered, as they roared down Georgia, that they immediately turn into the Westin Bayshore so she could have a cocktail. With everyone scurrying around to secure the area, she turned on her heel, having changed her mind.
That was when she commanded, in a loud voice in front of a crowd of hotel guests, that her RCMP driver salute her.
While these police officers from across the province were sorely tried on every front by assassins, terrorists, and demonstrators, as well as their two VIP guests, they came through with flying colours. While it was some time ago, I’d say that we had and have a police force to be proud of and that any visiting dignitary couldn’t be in better hands.
I suggested to Franco that perhaps he should consider the life of a professional actor – he was that good!
As for me, one of my bodyguards came over after the day’s activities and congratulated me on my acting ability. “You were great”, he said”, ”Arrogant, demanding, impulsive and flaky!”
As I started to say thanks, Sgt. Tom Carroll (who happens to be my brother) bellowed, ”What do you mean acting? That was typecasting at its best!…”
P.S. In lieu of flowers or donations, Franco would be happiest if you undertook to perform an act of kindness to assist those in need…
My deepest condolences to his lovely wife Mary and to their two sons and their families.
Rest in peace, Franco…