NOT JUST POKER

Fact or Fiction?

Tilly had clients throughout New York City. Tilly was not your typical bookie.Tilly did not report to the mob; did not appear to have a boss.

Back in the 1940’s and 50’s the numbers racket, also known as a policy-game, was a major source of income for crime syndicates. (The reference to policy was from a similarity to cheap insurance.) People from all walks of life (especially lower-income folks) would select their favorite three-digit numbers and place their bets with their bookie, also known as a numbers-runner. The winning numbers would be selected in some random manner; like the last three digits of the total wagered that day at a given track, and published in the daily newspaper along with the daily horse-race results. The following day, those who correctly selected the winning numbers would receive their winnings from the numbers runner. Of course, all this was quite illegal at the time; nonetheless, widespread. The policy racket or playing-the-numbers was really just an illegal version of today’s state lotteries currently played legally throughout the nation. Numbers players placed their bets with their local bookie, usually a tavern or candy store that served as a betting parlor. A runner would then ferry the money and betting slips between the betting parlor and the syndicate’s headquarters, also referred to then as numbers banks or policy banks.

For the record, the candy store of that era was not the boutique-like candy store we know today. These candy stores did not sell fancy Gummy Bears and Godiva Chocolates and over-priced fudge. These candy stores were neighborhood Meccas. The kids all hung-out around these stores, many kids occupying the few seats at the soda fountains. In addition to some candy and pretzels; cigars, cigarettes, and tobacco products dominated the inventory. Many of these candy stores rented books for pennies a day. They all sold comic books, magazines, and newspapers. It was the newspapers that drew many adults to the candy stores. Customers would come late in the day to purchase the “evening” edition to see how their stocks had performed that day, or they would show up first thing in the morning to see if they hit yesterday’s number. (Some numbers players couldn’t wait for the morning and would rush to buy the next-day’s early edition newspaper, on the newsstands sometime after eight or nine o’clock the night before.) Ah, the advantages, in those days, of living in a big city with many newspapers!

I digressed. As for bookmaking, remember Dutch Schultz (a real-life criminal figure featured in so many bad-guy movies). Back in the 1920’s, his policy operation was extremely profitable. With actual odds of winning at almost 1,000 to 1, his pay-off was based at 600 to 1. It was rumored that his daily take was in excess of $30,000. Usually no more than 25 percent was distributed to winners. Schultz needed the huge vig to cover protection payoffs to both law enforcement and politicians. With betting at pennies per wager, the betting action was pervasive. Betting was truly considered penny-ante during prohibition years, but with the demise of Prohibition in the early 1930’s, organized crime depended more and more on the lucrative income from playing-the-numbers.

Some of the heaviest numbers-action during the 1920’s came from Harlem. There, one of the major bookies was Stephanie St. Clair, a black woman known as the “Policy Queen of Harlem.” Stephanie St. Clair booked all her own action and answered to no one.

Tilly was not black, nor did she deal in petty, numbers betting. The major action Tilly booked in the 1950’s and 1960’s made Stephanie’s take miniscule in comparison. Like Stephanie, Tilly was way ahead of her time. A bookie not controlled by some crime syndicate was a rare commodity. A bookie who was a woman was even rarer. To be both was almost inconceivable.

Tilly’s bookmaking was transacted strictly on the telephone. She took most of the calls herself. Now and again she would trust her phone line to Celia, who was both her house-cleaner and confidante. On a shiny, long mahogany dining room table, Tilly had three separate telephones with three different phone numbers. There were no hold buttons on her phones. Sometimes, she would ask you to hold-on while she took another call. One caller could hear her chit-chatting with another caller on the other phone–sometimes with another bettor; sometimes with her hairdresser calling her back to confirm an appointment.

It was Tilly’s personal touch that made her so successful. Her clientele loved her. Her customer base expanded by word-of-mouth. She did not use heavy-handed collection tactics. If you were late in paying, she accepted your excuse and waited for you to have the funds. She was well aware that cutting-off one’s betting action would only cause her loyal customer to go elsewhere. If, after a reasonable period of time–“reasonable” was what Tilly deemed to be reasonable–the stiff made no attempt to decrease the debt, the client would be unduly harassed. Tilly would show up at the customer’s workplace and start loud conversations drawing unwanted attention and definite embarrassment. Sometimes Tilly showed up at a guy’s house, even before he arrived home from work. There she would be, sipping tea with the wife. Stories of Tilly’s unorthodox collection methods were legendary. Trust me. You did not want to stiff Tilly Rose.

……………To be continued.