NOT JUST POKER

Fact or Fiction?

Matilda Jules married Jack Rose when she was still in her early twenties. He was at least thirty years her senior. He was “connected” and his bookie operation must have been sanctioned by some branch of the mob. Tillie did not talk too much about him. When I met Tillie, Jack had been deceased for thirty years or more. I always assumed that the mob just decided to ignore Tillie as some homage to Jack. The only contact she had with Jack’s family was with some brother of his who, I understood, worked at The Stardust in Las Vegas. I do know that she checked some betting lines with him and on occasion laid-off some bets through him.

Tillie Rose shopped all the major department stores. Most of what she purchased, she returned. As I found out, it wasn’t the merchandise Tillie wanted as much as it was the boxes in which the goods were packed. She used a new box almost everyday. You know the boxes I mean. They are about 18” to 24” wide, 12” to 18” high, and usually not more than 6” to 10” deep. Most stores placed some twine around the box and attached to the twine a metal handle that was usually covered in wood that was wrapped around the metal handle. Tillie coveted these boxes. It was on these boxes that Tillie transferred from her scratch pads, the actual dollars she needed to collect or payout on a given day. On the exterior of these boxes she would just scrawl the information she needed and prance around town like a shopper on parade. She converted all her customers’ names to some codes. The only ones I knew were mine, “D16,” and that of a friend of mine named Leo, who was just “9.” She had some lettering system that signified dollar amounts.

Tillie would walk the streets of New York City with some department-store box that probably contained a towel or some old sweater. When she was done with her monetary chores, she returned home, removed whatever was in the box, and tossed the box down the incinerator chute. I assume the handles and twine went down the chute as well. Each week, thousands of dollars went to or from Tillie as she went on her “route,” totting her Bonwit’s or Bergdorf’s box.

Starting in September and running through mid-May, Tillie hosted an action-packed, Seven-Stud, hi-lo, declare, Poker game every Saturday afternoon from 1:00 to around 6:00. Because there was also a replace card after the seventh card was dealt to each player, and then there was a betting round after the declare, the game was slow-paced–nonetheless, action-packed.

Her entry foyer and living room were furnished as though she had a garden in mind, decorated in sunny hues with rose and peach flowers, reminiscent of fields of wild flowers. Each piece of furniture appeared to have not only style, but purpose. In comparison, the room in which we played Poker was sparse. One of her two bedrooms was not a bedroom at all. It had a huge diningroom table against one wall. There were a few chairs at the table. On the table were three telephones and many, many note pads, newspapers, scattered pieces of paper, and a radio that looked to be from the 1940’s. Against another wall was a Victorian couch covered with so many cushions and pillows of all different sizes that there was really no room to sit. There were no mirrors, just a few elaborately framed garden scenes that seemed to be outcasts from the rest of her apartment. The center-piece of the bedroom was the octagonal poker table and eight chairs.

I changed my Saturday work schedule. I would open the store at 7:00 A. M. and work to a little past lunch crush (not so hectic on Saturdays). I would return to work my store from 7:00 at night until closing at 1:00 A. M. She had some simple, triangular tea-sandwiches for us and had non-alcoholic beverages available. There was usually six or seven us, plus Tillie. Occasionally, there was another woman, but usually there were just the same six or seven guys and Tillie.

We played with cash on the table. The stakes were $5-$10, which, in those days, was considered more than just a run-of-the-mill Poker game. The first player, other than the dealer, to be out of the hand was required to count the bills and stack them to simplify the splitting of the pot. We all started with about $400 on the table and added more if we started to take some big hits. Tillie was one of the sharper players at the game. She always bet her hand and occasionally pulled-off a very credible bluff. Tillie had Celia come in to work on Saturday afternoons. If the phone rang, Celia took the call in another room. I assume Celia was able to take any phone action that came in while we were playing.

While we were in the midst of a hand, one Saturday, sometime just after the first of the year, the doorbell rang. We were not expecting another player. The doorman, Dale, had not called-up to announce a visitor. Celia assumed it was a neighbor at the door and opened it.

In walked three men. Two were dressed in street clothes; the third, in a police uniform. In almost a polite tone, we were told to leave our money where it was. It was “suggested” that it would be best if we just left. There were no guns drawn, just badges shown. Celia and Tillie remained.

Celia told one of the other players that she was questioned as a material witness. She never told him what happened to the money we left behind. It appeared that either the mob or the authorities wanted Tillie out of the bookie business. Tillie was taking so much action that she was becoming not only a nuisance to the police, but real competition for the mob. Ironically, it was for running the Poker game for which Tillie was busted. I don’t believe Tillie served any jail time. Soon after the arrest incident, building management requested that she move out of the building. I never saw Tillie again.