Social Events, Vol. 1, No. 7, Tuesday, March 27, 1945

With all the ice and snow we've been having, I can tell you the skis and sleds are getting a workout. Your overstuffed editor hasn't mustered up enough courage to take a whirl at the skis as yet, but give me time. Benton took Fennessy out one night for a bit of skiing and I hear from the Dog that Uncle Bulgey did OK for the first half of a trip, so maybe I'll take a shot at it.

New Year's Eve was headed for one of those slow evenings with nothing planned in advance. Some of the gang gathered in the Blue Room during the course of the afternoon and evening and no one knew what was up when shades of night started to fall, but as the action took place, Good Old Bill Buerk came through. Buerkmanor was ours for the night. And what a night! Your editor is just a little bit hazy as to all that went on, but I was there.

Fennessy sure did look sweet in one of the girl's nighties. I remember that well. And another thing that is very clear in my mind is that I was NOT taken for a ride just before lunch was served as I was at a previous party. In fact, I was the cook, apron and all. Benton liked my cooking so well that he gave the Bee the cold shoulder for the rest of the night. He even winked at me, imagine.

But all in all, it was one swell party. And to Mr. and Mrs. Bill Buerk, thanks a million for a hell of a swell time. We all liked it. Monday, January 1st, found quite a few patrons of the Blue Room suffering from "sinus" trouble. Doc Flagge would look like Ned in the third reader if he tried to ease the pain. It was brutal.

The balance of the week went along at the rate of 24 hours a day with nothing out of the ordinary happening. But Saturday, January 6th, we found out that Mr. and Mrs.Wm. Buerk were married five years. Here we go again. Yeah, the same damn thing over again. I don't have to tell you guys and gals that all the Blue Room bunch needs is just an excuse to throw a party or get plastered. Well, that's all it was -- just the excuse we needed and we were off. All of you know damn well what that meant. What a night. Sometimes I wish Bill and Pat Buerk weren't so damn nice.When you go to their house, the place is yours -- they even help you wreck the place.Why don't they get tough once in a while and tell us to scram? Instead, they ask you to stay for breakfast. I think their only salvation will be if they move so far away they won't be bothered with this gang.

Well, after that, we let Saturday, January 13th slide by with no action, but the 20th found us at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Dog Benton. Again, more drinks and more "sinus." Well, it's hard to say who was the best host. It was another rare occasion. The 27th, it was Mary Ellen Butler who took the gang out of the cold. I'm telling you, the pace is getting too fast for the old Neighbor. But rest assured, I'll try to survive till the real party takes place and each and every one of you are present.

Joe Pharo Reports: Vol. 1, No. 6, Tuesday, December 5, 1944

Joe Pharo Reports:

Joe Pharo

Hello, gang. I'll try to tell you a little bit about my trip back to the Old Blue Room. The Old Dog is still waiting.

I got a break for a change and left New Cal by plane. My first stop was the Fiji Islands, where who should I look up and see but old Hotsoup McGimsey. What a site for sore eyes. Andy is still the same, but is having trouble with the cigar shortage. You all should see him puffing on a cigarette. He insisted that I drink a couple of beers with him, so what could I do. 

Before I left he gave me Jule's address and when I arrived in Hawaii, I tried to call him four times, but no soap. Sorry, Jule.

About the Blue Room, I can't find many changes except the absence of a lot of familiar faces. I've had three or four trips across the river this morning, and it was the first time I drank the stuff that Neigh calls water. My pipes were sizzling. I still have a couple of days to go before reporting to Florida for reassignment. 

I made the first trip through the Wright plant in Lockland with Bill Bridges acting as a guide. We walked for five hours with the girls all whistling at us. It sure was an experience. 

That's one thing that isn't short in Cincy, girls! I have to beat them off, so hurry back, I need help. 

I received some mail from quite a few of the boys, but you fellows will have to wait until I get back to camp. I don't intend to waste any time writing. Hope you understand. 

Another thing I didn't have to contend with was Simon when I hit the sack. I better sign off now as I have a little chicken waiting. So long, Joe Pharo or "Ace"

P.S. I'm getting callous from the marble machine again. Doing OK though.

Walter Cooper Reports, Vol. 1., No. 6, Tuesday, December 5, 1944

We asked Walter Cooper if he had any messages he wanted to send to you guys and gals through this paper and it is as follows:

Hello Fellows: After being in heaven for the total of 14 days, during which time I had time to review the situation thoroughly, I regret to say the findings brutal. For example, Neighbor never buys a beer . . . Benton still is lucky in gambling, but not in love.

A pinochle game between Norb, Dog and myself found Benton quite a few $$$ plus after it was over. Every race horse bet finds Benton with that gleam in his eyes, as it only means another bean in his pocket. Things are really slow, so let's get the thing over. All you guys in the Army and Marines take note of how the Navy took care of the Nips* in their battle. If all the other branches did as well, the time for a grand meeting in the Blue Room is getting mighty near.

Smith is still the same kibitzer as always in any game.

I guess this is about all, as I am about to take off with two weeks of vacation with pay. So see you guys soon, I hope. Droopy

Vol. 1, No. 5 Tuesday, September 19, 1944

My good friends, at this time, I would like to present the greatest newspaper in the world. I'd like to present the most humorous newspaper in the world and the most popular newspaper in the world. But this is war and when we can't get what we like, we have to take the substitute. So here it is -- THE BLUE ROOM BELCH. 

I write so much to you military people that I feel as if I am quite military myself. I do have a military physique, my chest is retreating and stomach is advancing and the rest of my body looks like it was on a furlough.

One of the gang wrote in and said he wanted to hear the dope. Well, to him and all the rest, here I am, the dope, Neighbor.

In this issue I'm not going to beat around the bush with a lot of nonsense. I'm going to be like the hen who built her nest in the middle of the state highway. I'm going to "lay it on the line."

Who knows but what this may be a V Edition for all of you who are heading the kraut eaters. And I do hope it is. So should this be the case, I want to be able to face at least some of you with as little fear as possible.

Instead of a Christmas dinner in Tokyo, Burma or Berlin, lets make it drinks for the house at the Blue Room. I can recall many a Christmas when you met Santa Claus with three sheets in the wind and a new necktie dragging the bar at the Op'ry House. So what the hell is to keep you from playing a return engagement this Christmas. As much as we can gather from our local papers, all of you are on your way, so keep going. Don't tell me we have to go through another holiday season with a lot of 4F's and a few feeble elderly.

I still think that they should have called on Benton, Pappy Norris and myself to clean up this mess. Picture the old dog with that one good lamp of his sighting down the barrel of a BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle); I imagine it would be enough to make anyone shudder. Even the enemy. Of course, Pappy Norris would go OK, but me, I differ from the powers that be on certain things.

They tell me a soldier's first duty is his willingness to give his life for his country. I should think first duty would be to make the enemy give their life for their country. Maybe I'm wrong. But granting that all of you are doing OK by way of your Uncle, I still think we might have been a help someplace.

But in all seriousness, should it be another Christmas away from home for any or all of you, you can bet that Kroner, Benton or myself join the whole neighborhood in wishing you God's richest blessings for this Christmas and many more to come.

Blue Room Burns, Church Basement New Hangout, Vol. 1, No. 4, Wednesday, June 21, 1944

This is one of those things that your editor would hope he never would have to write about. But considering how everything has turned out with no loss of life or property, I'll go into it with a little more heart than had the story had a different ending.

At Friday morning June 2nd at 1:00 AM., Dog Benton made the rounds of the place and was satisfied that everything was as usual. He lit the night light and locked up and headed for home.

Marie and Ray Pharo

At about 2:30 AM. the screams of Mrs. Ray Pharo were heard from across the street, just as Norb pulled up in front of the place. Norb says he never heard Mrs. Pharo calling when he pulled up, but looked in the Blue Room and found it a mass of flames. It was then he heard her calling for Mary and Mary's mother. Norb told her to call the local fire department, which she had done, but always at a time like that they seem to never come. Norb then proceeded to get out those upstairs, Mrs. Pharo, Mary, and next-door neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Prinzbach. By the time that everyone had evacuated the building, three companies of the fire department were on the scene and busy at work.

Now get this straight -- your editor was not there when all this happened and only found out about it when I was on my way to work. Standing in front of the place was the new electric bottle beer cooler and a pile of debris that is usually thrown out after a fire. When I investigated further, I found the front door wide open and the old faithful Dog Benton on guard. Naturally, my first thoughts were of those upstairs. Benton assured me that everyone was OK, but what I saw in the old place left me spellbound. Back in the corner where the bottled goods case had formerly set, was a large hole burned through the floor. Every bit of surface of the woodwork such as the bar, side board, doors and other furnishings was blistered by the intense heat. Part of the plaster on the ceiling had pulled lose, but did not fall. Here is where the hand of God was VERY evident. Had the plaster fallen and the ceiling took fire, this article would have had a different ending.

There would have been nothing to stop the flames from getting to the second floor, and the stairway to the third floor was just overhead from the fire. A catastrophe was prevented because Mrs. Ray Pharo was awake, and Norb came home at just the right time. Had no one been awake or noticed what was taking place, I can't help but believe it would have been fatal.

The fire was thought to have started in or near the motor for the electric refrigerator and the damage was placed at $600 by the attending fire marshal. But those who have seen the damage think it will exceed that amount. No damage was done to the drug store.

At the present time the Blue Room is closed, but Mr. Prinzbach has promised us quick action within his means, and hopes to have us back on the track soon.

So your editor takes great pleasure in saluting Mrs. Ray Pharo and Norb for their part in preventing what we all hate to think of. And to Frank Benton, an orchid for his faithfulness for returning and keeping a watch so there could be no recurrence of what had already happened. And to all others who were so considerate of the well-being of Mrs. Pharo and Mary who were marooned in the back yard while all the excitement was going on, we say thanks a million.

Stuff and Junk about Our Gang, V-Gardens, etc., Vol. 1 No. 4, Wednesday June 21, 1944

Picture of East End children in front of a stern wheeler on the banks of the Ohio River
Photo Credit: From the collection of Mary Pharo Meldon, pictured on the right
Joe Pharo pictured in the middle

Hi, Gang! Well, your editor and partners in publication hope you're still on the beam and raring to go.

Fennessy has let us down brutally, but promises to do better. He is still confined to the rails, but has made numerous requests to the railway officials for a transfer to a bus that he may broaden his efforts of destruction. It is rather tough on Uncle Bulgey to go from day to day without making the headlines of our local press, but give him time.

As far as the Kentucky Derby was concerned, Pensive won it in good style. He then went on to win the Preakness the same way. Your editor had a "slight bet" on a fugitive from a soap factory. The nag I bet on must have been part of the Light Brigade for I heard later that the jockey carried a lantern to find his way in should darkness overtake him, (and it did).

The Cincinnati Reds are playing ball with about two old-time stars and twenty-three 4-Fs. You can imagine what a struggle it is for the local fans to keep them up in contention. Andy and Wayne better get back here pronto for Burlap isn't doing them any good.

Jimmy Pharo
Ohio River Beach on Kentucky side

The temperature hangs around 88 or 90 but the beach across the river is covered with water due to a 28-ft. stage. If you birds don't come back soon and get things back to normal, the country will go to hell.

And now, my good friend, brace yourself for the blow. Doggie Benton has really gone patriotic. Besides buying bonds till it hurts he now works a victory garden that does hurt (every bone in his body). Picture the Old Dog, if you can, on a massive tract of land (10 x 20 ft.) with a banjo (spade) in his hand tilling the turf. Ah, it does my heart good to see the Old Purp in the middle of his tomatoes, radishes, and beets with a bottle of beer in one hand and chinning himself on a hoe with the other. But hold up, I better not go so fast-- my garden adjoins his. Imagine me with the overstuffed appearance of grounded blimp wrestling with the home grown produce. But as I go about my work among the bean beetles and potato bugs, I wonder why I should have such a large tract of earth to till (20 x 50 ft.) while the Dog has so little. But fate has always dealt thusly with me, so this one more time, I suppose, will not hurt. Our garden plot is at the foot of Lumber Street (next to St. Rose) and our gardening group consists of Fr. Dillon, Fr. Jacquemin, Bud Smith, John Boots, Bob Herking, Al Wellendorf, the Dog, Hody Williams and Joe Rechtin and myself. Oh yes, I almost forgot Chas. Ross.

It is the aim of this group to hold a harvest festival this Fall on the grounds where it is grown. We wish to use this means of extending an invitation to be with us.  An old-fashioned Mulligan stew made with the vegetables from our gardens will be served.

If we can lay our hands on some chickens or ration points, we'll have meat. Of course, there will be beer. So, if any or all of you birds can finish your business at hand, you are welcome.

Purely Personal, Vol. 1, No. 3, Sunday, April 23, 1944

Ding Ding Fennessy still roves the streets of our fair city at the controls of the rambling wrecks called street cars. He is now on the prowl for a milk wagon, and when he hits it, I will let you know.

We had an old-fashioned poker game a few Sundays ago and Homer Marksberry slipped in a pinochle deck for the first hand. You can imagine what happened. Bill Pruhs could have won it with an ace full only he had three red aces in his hand. I never saw so much raising in one pot in all my life.The lowest hand was an ace high straight. Andy McGimsey should have been here.

Father Dillon did a swell job of a half hour broadcast over WKRC on Sunday, March 19th.

Doggie Benton moved from 3A to 3AH on Sunday, March 26th. Yeah, the Dog is now 38 (so he says). Ramrod Herking was right, the Dog will be standing in back of that same bar when the music stops and the smoke of battle has cleared away.

The Saturday nights at the Blue Room are not much to write about.They're a lot tamer and less action than of old. We need you birds to inject that old Blue Room spirit into the old place again. All I hope is that I'm in the clear when you "take off" so I don't get trampled in the rich.

Inside Pharo's Cafe
Photo Credit: Mark Pharo via Bryan Phillips

Remember When?, Vol. 1, No. 3, Sunday, April 23, 1944

Remember When? You had nothing to do in the evening but go to the Blue Room . . . Simon would start every Lent by going off beer and last two days . . . everybody had sinus trouble on Monday . . . the Floogie man would tend bar and drop glasses . . . Frank Young lit the firecracker in the box at River Downs . . . the gang played ball on Sunday mornings for a half barrel . . . Frank Shea dropped in for a quiet evening . . . the gang would start Saturday evening by going to the bingo . . . you never knew what to expect when you stepped in the Blue Room . . . the Wine House used to be a regular stop . . . Simon and Dog were jealous of each others' suntan . . . Doc Prinzbach used to wear his engineer's cap and gloves . . . the gang went to Williamsburg to play ball . . . Dingy Langenbaum and Simon played golf the Sunday it snowed . . . Norb was classed as the Pink Tuna . . .  your partner gave you hell for a bad play in the 500 tournament . . . we used to have the Horse Sense contests when the Enquirer arrived?

Mail Bag, Vol. 1, No. 3, Sunday, April 23, 1944

Dog and Kroner want me to start this item by thanking all who wrote in to try and get one thing cleared up, if possible.

In the first issue of this paper, we tried to make it clear that we would do all in our power to send to everyone that we had addresses of, a copy, so that all of you could have what little we had to offer.

Word has got to us that some of our good friends seem hurt that we don't keep up our personal contact with them by writing them a letter now and then. If we have hurt anyone through the medium of this paper, believe us, we are sorry.

The last issue of this paper was sent to almost 60 service people and if you ever tried to get one of these sheets together, have it printed, address 60 envelopes and get them under way, you can gather what we are trying to do. It doesn't leave as much time on our hands to hold up what some of you think should be easy.

We are not asking for sympathy, for it is a pleasure for us to do something that you might get a kick out of. We want all of you to know that we thought this might fill in when mail from home might be a little slow reaching you. So, don't get sore, give us a break.

Ray Pharo, Wayne Hogan, Harry Gieger, Red Willindorf, Les Meldon

Judging from what we hear form Lt. Wolff, he is not on a basket picnic . . . Les Meldon writes in and says he has been seeing Joe Pharo, they are about 10 miles apart on the same island. Tom Higgins wrote in a dandy from the West Coast, his brother Joe wrote in and gave a damn good description of what he does with his 24 hours everyday. He doesn't have much idle time . . . Wimpy Fischer writes in from his Naval Training base that the work has been quite strenuous, he is now in the hospital and may get back among the Mother's Oats . . . Lt. Frank Dorr sent us a letter from his new address, Frank is still on the East Coast, but has a new assignment. Buck Marpert, Don Reinhardt, Cliff Marpert and a score of others wrote in, but we don't have the space to list them all, but keep them coming gang.

Remember Whens a Big Hit, Thanx! Vol. 1, No. 3, Sunday, April 23, 1944

Frank "Dog" Benton

Hi Gang: Well we are off in a tangle again. Issue No. 3 of the Belch goes to press with Kroner, Dog and myself hoping this finds all of you in the pink and still the same old gang.

The pleasure is all ours when you write in and ask that we print some special article about something you are interested in. So most of this sheet will be devoted to requests, but no mention will be made of the person who sent in the request, so read on and see if you can find what you want to know.

It might interest all of you to know that the little article entitled "Remember When" that was inserted in our first issue leads the parade.  Just about everybody sends in more.  One of the gang sent in 13.

Most of the letters go something like this, "Was indeed glad to get the paper and, above all, the 'Remember Whens.' Sure bought back many happy memories, keep it up." So you see we hit the nail on the head with that one item, so you will get a few more this time, taken at random from our incoming mail.

Photo Credit: From the Collection of Mark Pharo via Bryan Phillips

Blue Room Belch Donors, Vol.1, No. 2, March 4, 1944

In our last issue we told you that the expense of mailing this paper to you would be taken care of by the good patrons of the Blue Room.  Mr. Cooper the "Kingfish" gave us our first $ and told us to get going. The envelopes were bought and paid for by "Dog" Benton at $5.25 for 1000.

When we were ready to put them in the mail box, our good friend George Prinzbach came through and paid for the postage on 50 letters. And now to top it all we have a waiting list of donors who are willing and ready to handle our financial wants.Tony Herking also gave a $ for expenses. As other donations are accepted we will also publish the names. So as your benefactors remember you, you also remember them.

Return Mail Light, But Good, Vol. 1, No. 2, March 4, 1944

Lou Guntzelman (left) editor of Blue Room Belch
In front of Fisher's Grocery
Photo Credit: Ray Pharo via Bryan Phillips 

Howdy, Gang. Well, here we go again. Judging from the return mail, what little there was, we can't say whether the first edition of the Blue Room Belch was a success or not. Some of you birds wrote back and said give the job of editor to Cocky Sellers. Others said to forget the first issue and start over. Some wanted to know what issue would have the news first, about 50% said 92 different things were wrong. One fellow went so far as to say we didn't give the weather forecast for the day.

All joking aside, thanks a million gang for your reply to our efforts. Kroner, Benton and myself feel well repaid for all the nice things you said, and hope, in our own feeble way to express our thanks for the manner in which you received our efforts. We hope this issue and the following will give a little more and better news of local concern that may appeal to you all.

We are thinking of getting a mail box and put all the mail that comes addressed to the Belch in the box. Then when this is all over, why some slow evening we will drag it all out and go over all the old letters.

A lot of fellows want addresses printed in the paper, but it would take a lot of space, but we will do our best in the next issue.