A social life

They were places to meet new friends, knock back a few beers and hobnob with what could be your future wife.

Comparable to today’s nightclubs and bars, social clubs were a Mecca for young males. But don’t confuse these establishments with a crowded fraternity party. Each one possessed a sense of camaraderie and class and its members describe their experiences at them as the best times of their lives.

Take a peek inside two of these popular clubs, which are highlighted by some of their members:

Club Elsmore

After serving in the Korean War, Joseph Ferrante was looking to have a bit of fun. His friends immediately informed him of a happening place at 1211 S. Juniper St.

"They said, ‘I got a place for you to go.’ So, they brought me up and introduced me to the guys," recalled Ferrante, who eventually became a member of Club Elsmore in 1952.

Getting a spot in the club was based on acceptance from current members, noted Louis "Reds" Molino, originally from the 1200 block of Fitzgerald Street.

"You needed a sponsor. After [potential members] were introduced, he would go out of the room," he recalled of the new additions. Current members "had a box and they would pass the box to one another. If three black balls were placed in the box, the guy wasn’t permitted to join the club. Most guys made it, though, and each guy was nicer than the other guy."

The building’s second floor included a polished floor, benches covered with genuine leather and flowers running across the ceiling. The third floor was a game room equipped with a dartboard and ping-pong table.

Dues were about $1.50 a week and supported the purchase of beverages for the dances. The latter were very popular during the postwar years when those returning from service were looking for companionship and recreation.

"You got to know so many people," Ferrante, 76, said. "We’d go to dances and invite girls from other areas. They’d come down and bring their friends. It was a constant meeting of everyone in the Philadelphia area."

Some members would perform skits for the crowds where they "would make fools of themselves," Ferrante said. "We had a couple of guys that were hams that would really live it up."

Winter trips to the Poconos and summer excursions to Wildwood further bonded Elsmore’s members, which went up to 100 at one point.

Their bathing suits were either white with black stripes or vice versa.

"That’s how you would know who was an Elsmorite," said Molino, 75.

Besides having personal days of fun, the members often hosted parties for orphans, where a member would always play Santa Claus. And, as always, women were invited.

"The girls wanted to show us what good mothers they would be, so you would assess their abilities with the kids," Molino said of the events.

Elsmore’s members who have stayed local since the club’s closing in 1965 make a point to meet at a restaurant once a month, rekindling the memories over food and laughter.

Club Chadmoore

Receiving its name from its proximity to Chadwick and Moore streets, Club Chadmoore was considered — among other things — an athletic social club.

Members established their own football team and faced off with leagues across the city.

But the club, which had a range of ages, is remembered most as instilling a sense of brotherhood in its members.

The club "took the younger guys in, got us off the streets, showed us organization and promoted camaraderie," said member Rocco Bene, formerly of 17th and Mifflin streets.

Blooming in the 1940s, Chadmoore charged a quarter per week for membership dues. Block parties that lasted entire weekends also were popular fund-raisers for the group.

The club’s two-floored building on the 1800 block of Bancroft Street included a pool and ping-pong table, as well as a television, where Bene remembers watching Perry Como with his pals.

The dance floor was illuminated with a mirror ball hanging from the ceiling and created some intimate mood lighting during its weekly dances. The holiday dances also drew in crowds and Bene said the members even cooked their own food for the events.

Working a job did not deter Bene from participating in the club’s activities.

"I would work the butcher shop, play football, go clean the butcher shop and go dancing [at the club]," he said.

Joining the Chadmoore in the 1950s, Orazio Ziccardi said the club was a way to meet people.

"You were dependent upon everyone else for a social life," said Ziccardi, 72. "That’s the big difference between the days of now and those days. Today, you can be an individual and go your own way. In those days, your social life depended on everyone else. We did everything as a group."

The club’s existing members — now totaling about 100 — make a point to meet at various events during the year. A memorial Mass also is held for the members who have passed on since the club closed in the 1960s.

Bene said these gatherings help strengthen the lifelong bond that exists among Chadmoore’s members.

"I see all my childhood buddies and we never change," he said. "We’re just as funny as we were before."