With the growing interest in the Borscht Belt Museum opening in Ellenville, it has brought back a lot of memories when the Catskills were king. Like so many others, I spent summers “in the mountains” waiting on tables to pay for my college tuition. 

Personally my memories of those magical summers are difficult for newcomers to the area to comprehend. Here are some examples of how it used to be in our area. At the high point of the Borscht Belt there were about 500 hotels located in Sullivan and Ulster Counties. On Saturday afternoons, you could not find a parking space on Broadway in Monticello. Instead you parked in a lot behind  stores like Woolworth’s or restaurants like Kaplan’s to enjoy a pastrami or corn beef sandwich on rye. The racetrack was packed on Saturday nights. There was not an empty seat in the grandstands. When placing a bet, people placed their newspapers on their seat to reserve their space.

But my favorite memories are from my earning college money by waiting on three “8-tops” at some hotels. Sunday was tip day and my efforts to serve those 24 guests was rewarded with cash. Every Monday I would walk to the small post office and buy a money order to send to my parents to deposit in my bank account. There only was one postal worker behind the two windows. I remember the first time I bought a money order. I took the money order and then asked if they sold pre-stamped envelopes. The guy said, “That’s at window 2.” As I walked the four feet to window 2, I saw the clerk walking in the same direction. I knew he was messing with me when he said, “What can I help you with?” We had the same exchange every Monday.

The first hotel that hired me was The Grand Mountain Hotel in Greenfield Park. It was a small family owned place that entertained a few hundred guests, many of them for the whole summer. The head chef, Tony, who doled out the food was a crazed but adequate cook. If you annoyed him, he would add you to his list of “college hippie bastards.” Sometimes he would brandish a machete he kept tucked on his belt.

The kitchen staff had their own hierarchy. Of course the top dog was Tony the chef. At the bottom of the workers were dishwashers. Often when they got paid, they secured a bottle of Thunderbird wine that had the slogan “What’s the price? Thirty twice.” For less than a buck some of them got drunk after the lunch service.

When the kitchen needed a sober dishwasher, the hotel’s owner would tell me to take the station wagon and get a replacement. I did not go to an employment agency. I went to the local jail and bailed out the first guy  who seemed sober. 

Hudson Cooper is a resident of Sullivan County, a writer, comedian and actor.