The Wurster Interviews, Part 6: The Early Years of PPE
Read previous installments: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Wobbly Joe's, The Karen Marsden Incident, and Operation Barbarossa
First off, I want to say something: These are my memories. There may be people who say, "No, it happened differently." But these are my memories. If someone remembers differently, they should report to Uppagus. If their memory is interesting enough, it can be published. (Editor’s note: Inquire at uppagus@gmail.com.) Sometimes I’m unsure of years, but I remember the years things happened the best I can.
So there were these two mental health counselors at a mental health center on the South Side. This was in the early ‘80s. They tried to form a union and were fired. It went to court, and of course these things drag on forever.
While they were waiting for the outcome of the court case, they bought a bar at the corner of 27th and Jane. It was a working man’s bar. To honor the American labor movement, these two fellows named the bar Wobbly Joe’s after Joe Hill.
Now, you’ll remember that Lion Walk had gone out of business, so Frank Correnti (Pittsburgh Poetry Exchange member), who was always a great union guy, decided to curate an ongoing poetry series. He convinced these two fellows to host it, even though they were skeptical.
Frank would charge $1 at the door on poetry night, which didn’t bother the steelworkers at all. They forked over their dollar when they came in. The poetry crowd sat at tables closer to the stage.
All things have a shelf life, including bars and restaurants. Wobbly Joe’s lasted a few years, but eventually the two owners lost energy. The poetry readings, of which they had originally been skeptical, towards the end were the only thing that brought in crowds. The place was always packed on poetry night.
Wobbly Joe’s was a very noisy place for poetry. To this day, if Frank doesn’t hear the ring of a cash register or the ricochet of a beer bottle being hurled through the air, he considers a poetry reading to be not a success.
Once Wobbly Joe’s closed, it was replaced by a feminist bar and restaurant called Wildsisters. Wildsisters later became Bloomer’s, another feminist bar and restaurant. It subsequently became an Italian restaurant called Antonini’s, and is today a church — the Hot Metal Bridge Church.
Here are two anecdotes about Wobbly Joe’s:
1. The Karen Marsden Incident
Karen was a radical feminist poet whose persona was of someone who really hated men. So here she is at Wobbly Joe’s, reading poetry which attacked men. She was really rabid.
The steelworkers at the bar, who normally didn’t react to or even seem to hear the readings, thought Karen’s act was crazy and wonderful. They loved it. They not only applauded every poem, but they crumpled up dollar bills and threw them at the stage, hooting and hollering.
I don’t remember whether Karen kept the money or not, but she did seem uncomfortable.
2. Operation Barbarossa
At the COSMEP Conference in 1980, one of the people we met was a poet/playwright from Texas named Loris Essary. He formed friendships with several PPE members. So we invited him up here. And what he did was perform his play, Operation Barbarossa. (You’ll remember that’s what Hitler called his invasion of Russia.)
The play concerns a German tank on the flight from Moscow. There are four characters, three of whom are dead. Loris played the part of the tank commander, who is alive. The other characters include the navigator and the gunner. During the play, the tank commander has conversations with his two dead comrades. These conversations are both poignant and funny.
The climax of the play comes when the tank stops because there’s a dead woman lying in the road. The tank commander, in his dementia, seems to recognize her. He picks up her lifeless body and they proceed to dance, while he reminisces about their time in Paris together.
You can see this play made a big impression on me because I remember it so well.
Loris came up again to perform the play. At that time, we were trying out the Mattress Factory as a venue for poetry events, but we were not able to get our audience to make the trip over to the North Side. I think seven people.
Next in issue 9: The Second Wave
