DANCE HALL DAYS: How I survived the Summer of the SON OF SAM
DAVID BERKOWITZ, the SON OF SAM a.k.a. "The 44 Caliber Killer" had started killing slowly at first, no one really figured it out. The police thought it was just the typical random violence that exists in every major city, especially New York City! No one in the DISCO Nightlife culture was aware that we were being TARGETED!!! Finally when the New York Daily News ran the headline ".44 Caliber Killer!" We stopped spinning around and actually read the paper. We became aware of his existence now!
Now there was talk everynight about the KILLER. Who is he? Could I be next? Why? Was the chatter one could hear over the blaring DISCO music that came out of my speakers. But no seemed too worried, there was just talk. As the victims started to add up, and the New York Police department didn't have any ideas, the TALK got progressively louder. I could actually see the anxiety and worry on my patrons faces. The following week after still more victims surfaced on our streets, it was almost a panic. Finally when the headlines read, "SON OF SAM KILLER!" PANIC wasn't a strong enough adjective to describe what occurred in the New York City DISCO nightlife. It was DEVASTATING!!
Soon, the crowds started to shrink, the dancers weren't there anymore, preferring safety rather than risking their lives by venturing into the City. Still more bodies were found, killed "execution" style, now there were no-BODIES in the Big Apple DISCOS, unless you were GAY, it didn't effect them, The SON OF SAM didn't have it out for GAY men, only Brunettes and their men. The women who had the balls to to venture out, had died their hair BLONDE, hoping that was a .44 caliber bullet repellent. Hey, it worked, no hair color other then Brown was shot!
As the crowds dwindled at the DISCO, something had to be done. Clubs actually closed their doors, Jewish Lightning struck all over town. I went out HUNTING this guy!! There were hundreds of others who were too, cruising the New York streets looking for the killer. We never found him, but did beat up alot of suspicious looking individuals!!
In my home, across the Hudson River in Union City, Hoboken, Jersey City and vicinity, the young Spanish kids stopped going into the New York City, now staying home on the weekends instead. I noticed this right away, and decided that if they weren't going to go to New York City, I was going to bring New York City DISCOS to them!!
In the past two years, I occasionally would rent a DANCE HALL in Hudson County, New Jersey. I would book a few DISCO acts, a couple of local bands and a SALSA band to perform. I would put as many speakers as I could find into this hall, provide a light show, bring my records and mobile outfit, and deejay between the acts. It was always a success, But not as profitable as it sounded. By the time I paid my bills, I only made a few hundred dollars. Not worth the effort. But now, as David Berkowitz crated a havoc in the streets of New York City, I started to rent DANCE HALLS every weekend. On Saturday at The Embassy Theater in North Bergen, the following Friday in Hudson Hall in West New York. A Saturday at Shulzten Park, and so on. This time It would be a DISCO act, a Black act and a SALSA act that I would deejay between. That gave me a broader fan base. It worked to perfection. The Summer of 1977, THE SUMMER OF SAM in New York, made me a lot of money in New Jersey. Those DANCE HALL PARTIES put two or three thousand bodies in them, dancing to my mixing and to the bands like The Trammps, The Crown Heights Affair and Kool and the Gang.
Every venue got larger, soon I would rent giant DANCE HALLS like the IMPERIAL MANOR in Bergen County, a reception palace off the highway that held five thousand people. It cost a little more to rent, but since I got a portion of the liquor sales as well, and there would be thousands there, I cleaned up. I didn't mind the inconvenience of doing all the work, cause I made most of the money.
Then two things happened at the same time. I had competition, others started to do the same thing, only their formula was better. Some had multiple Big name acts, others would let the women in free, or for less. Where there were women, the men followed. As I decided to stop having these DANCE HALL PARTIES, the New York Police finally caught THE SON OF SAM!! The NIGHTMARE was over! I returned to the Clubs as did the crowds. I made money providing Jersey with top notch DISCO while DAVID BERKOWITZ, the SON OF SAM finally went to jail.
The kids who were too young to go to New York, were exposed to the DISCO life at these DANCE HALL PARTIES. They became the next wave of Club goers, deejays and DISCO FANS. I felt a deep sense of accomplishment, and a lot heavier in the wallet.
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YOUR COMMENTS
I think that those days were scary. I lived in Boston, and our papers ran stories about the SON OF SAM. Those "dances" were a smart idea, but didn't you worry? It sounded like living on the edge a little. You were tempting fate weren't you? A little CRAZY?
The Son of Sam, 1977. A bad time for NYC. He went after brunettes but IIRC his last female victim, Stacy Moskowitz, was a blonde. The night he shot her, he made the mistake of parking in front of a fire hydrant, and was ticketed. A woman walking her dog got a good look at him too.
The cops routinely investigated all parking ticket given out that night. Berkowitz's Yonkers address made him stand out. The cops went to his address and saw heavy weaponry in his vehicle. He was arrested, and we all know the rest.
But it's possible that he had an accomplice, or a copy-cat shooter. Some of the early police sketches look radically different from Berkowitz. A small car was seen speeding away from the location of his last shooting in Brooklyn. We'll never know but even a few of the detectives on the case still say that it's possible that he didn't act alone.
I lived in Brooklyn at the time and SOS was all the talk. My own neighborhood was still a quiet middle-class area, it's decline came later. Even on the night of the '77 blackout nothing bad happened there. We all sat on our porches with candles and flashlights.
Posted by:
Dan | May 05, 08 | 4:47 am
I enjoyed the music but wasn't a disco-goer, too many wannabee cretins, and I wasn't much of a drinker either. In my strict Italian-American family using drugs would have brought on the mother of all beatings, followed by more beatings and banishment to hell, followed by another beating.
My neighbors were pretty quiet homeowner-type people, no guns or bats that I knew of. The blackout riots were nowhere near us.
It's funny how much I remember about that summer. Girls I knew from college who were into the disco scene would tell me how nervous they were with SOS out there. Some would wear their hair up because he supposedly only shot girls with long hair.
A friend's brother was a detective on the case. They'd recieved a tip from someone who thought that the phrase "Son of Sam" was a mumbled lyric in some Jimi Hendrix song. So all these tough old Irish and Italian detectives got the album in question, put on headphones and played it over and over. No "son of sam" lyric but it was that kind of a crazy case.
Posted by:
Dan | May 06, 08 | 5:16 am
Maybe SOS was just plain nuts. Now he's all contrite and wants his a** out of prison. He'll die in prison just like Charles Manson will.
I don't know if this is a fact but I remember reading a few years after the killings how nearly all his female victims were having their periods at the time of their shootings. Very creepy if true, it's like he was a true predator who can smell blood.
The NYPD had to investigate so many screwy leads, they had no choice. Once they got call from Amsterdam police saying guy there claimed to be SOS. He told the Dutch cops that he would fly over, do his shootings and fly back. So 2 NYC detectives fly over there and the guy was in NYC for 2 of the shootings but was otherwise a total lunatic. A lot of crap like that happens in cases like the SOS.
Posted by:
Dan | May 07, 08 | 4:11 am
I read that "period" info a few years after the killings, maybe in a book review. I remember the rumors about the mob looking for the SOS. That was in the days when mobsters cared about their neighborhoods in their own unique way.
Posted by:
Dan | May 09, 08 | 2:52 am
Lets just say that certain people were searching for Son of Sam. I was around then, and the search got out of control. Once the papers printed those sketches of him these certain people were pulling in anybody near a club that matched the sketch. One guy we, I mean they, pulled in put up a fight. The local wiseguys brought him to a place and figured out it wasn't Sam. That close call sort of was the end of having not too bright guys driving around 3 in a car with something under the front seat. The guy was let go because he surely wasn't Sam but was a student at a NYU medical who was just walking home at 3am. Like I said these guys weren't too bright. It also helped that his last name was of a certain ethnicity. The local boss gave him $500, told him "sorry, Doc", and to shut up and go home.
Like I said the search got out of control because people didn't know who was who things were happening in the street that caused trouble. Wiseguys from were going after each other because of all the confusion. Meetings were held and things calmed down after that. But no more crews out hunting.
The worst bunch were out in Queens, hotheads and dopers, a year later they robbed a certain German airline for millions and fell apart after that, it was the beginning of the end of a lot of things. And YOU know who and what I'm talking about.
So you know who I'm talking about, hardly a secret after a book and a movie. That Queens bunch were the ones playing cowboy during the S of S days, especially a certain person whos initials were T.D. They were spoken to and it stopped but we knew there was a problem with them. The real Tommy D. was a daylight-bank-robbing loudmouth. I wonder where he is now? He might "turn up" just like a bunch of his old buddys turned up when they were building that shopping center on the belt parkway which is funny because it's not too far from Pine Street, junkie Henry's hometown.
