A lighthearted and loving look back at the glory days of the Shady Dell, the historic haven for teenagers in York, PA, and the magnanimous couple that created it, John & Helen Ettline.
CLOSE YOUR EYES. TAKE A DEEP BREATH. OPEN YOUR HEART.
SHADY DEL KNIGHT, ADMINISTRATOR
High School Yearbook Photo
"More than a place, the Shady Dell was and will forever remain a state of mind." - Shady Del Knight
HELLO STRANGER ... IT SEEMS LIKE A MIGHTY LONG TIME!
When December arrived I couldn't wait for classes at PSU
to end so that I could bust loose, drive back home to York, get up the hill to the Dell, check in with Helen and John and check out the jukebox tunes in the barn. Here now are the hottest records that were playing at the Shady Dell during the Christmas-New Year holidays in 1967 and on into 1968!
December 1967
"My Baby Must Be a Magician" – Marvelettes
"I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)" – James Brown & the Famous Flames
The King of all Dell Rats knelt before the fireplace and
with a mighty heave tossed the massive chunk of lumber
onto the bed of glowing embers.
Encouraged by a fresh supply of fuel
the blaze quickly sprang to life.
Light danced merrily on the walls of the TV room
as flames devoured the wood.
The room was bathed in a cheery glow as
soothing warmth radiated to Dell rats gathered 'round.
Comforting crackles, pops and hisses from the fire
blended with the sound of familiar tunes
playing on the jukebox.
'Twas the most wonderful time of the year...
Christmas time at the Shady Dell!
Some of my fondest Dell memories
recall the colder months, especially the
December holiday season.
Whenever a snow storm struck John sprang into action. Equipped with a winter busting arsenal that included
jumper cables, chains, sand and ice scraper, Mr. Ettline
was Johnny on the spot when a Dell rat encountered
car problems. Armed with his trusty shovel,
John wasted no time clearing the front steps
and the walkway connecting the house to the barn.
On cold December nights Helen was busy
preparing treats to warm the tummy.
My favorite cold weather order was a plate of
sizzling French fries and a steaming mug of cocoa.
Next stop - the barn, and John had it handled
down there, too, with the fireplace burning
and records that kept turning.
During the holiday season
no place on earth made you
feel more welcome, more at home
or more alive than the Shady Dell!
In keeping with tradition our online version of the
Dell will remain open for business through the holidays
and I loaded into the jukebox the Dell's
two most popular Christmas classics.
For your viewing pleasure I decked the halls and
covered the walls with vintage seasonal soda pop ads.
The two holiday songs I'd like you to hear
were released back-to-back on the same 45,
one of many two-siders to enjoy popularity at the Dell.
Both sides of the platter were enduring seasonal favorites.
"Jingle Bell Rock" first became a national hit
at Christmas time 1957. Every December thereafter
the song magically showed up in the Dell’s
dance hall jukebox just in time
to engender a festive holiday mood.
"Jingle Bell Rock" - Bobby Helms (December 1957)
You might think that the Dell's inner circle would have avoided this old countrified Christmas classic, dismissing it
as square. Instead, the gang eagerly got into the spirit of the proceedings and made it their own.
The record’s B-side, a nursery school ditty entitled
"Captain Santa Claus," produced an extraordinary response at the Dell. The beginning of the song consists of a series
of bizarre and instantly recognizable sound effects.
Naming that tune in seconds flat, the Dell crowd would
erupt in gleeful, childlike laughter and jubilant rats would
leap to their feet, head out on the dance floor
and skip around the room hand-in-hand
like merry little elves. At the Dell, even the
coolest kids were capable of letting their hair down
and acting silly, particularly during Christmas break
when Bobby Helms was serenading us.
"Captain Santa Claus" - Bobby Helms (December 1957)
The popularity of Bobby Helms' perennial holiday classics allows me to once again make an important point.
Those of us who attended the Dell in the 60s eagerly embraced the music of the past, welcoming the opportunity to preserve the traditions of our 50s predecessors. In that respect I believe we could be called "the last great generation" of Dell rats.
I marched into a record store and bought seven albums.
They were the first seven volumes of Cruisin'.
Over the next two years I added half a dozen more
Cruisin' long plays to my collection.
Ron Jacobs, Program Director at KHJ Los Angeles
and creator of the Cruisin' series, assembled some
of the greatest deejays of the rock 'n' roll era
in seamless reproductions of their radio programs.
The air checks featured authentic patter by the
legendary top 40 jocks along with original commercials,
jingles and sound effects.
Each volume of Cruisin' was highly collectible,
not only because of the radio hall of famers
and the classic oldies they played...
but also for the colorful, eye popping
Mike Royer cartoon cover art.
As I salute the Cruisin' series in the months to come,
I will spotlight a favorite song or two from each volume
and throw in a few other great recordings that
were released the same year.
I will also be displaying nostalgic soda pop
print ads to help bring back the period.
Let's start our journey where
Cruisin' started: Frisco in '55!
"Jumpin'" George Oxford
KSAN, San Francisco
RAY CHARLES
The earlier the better I always say, and the early career output of Ray Charles (late 40s to mid 50s) is where it's at for me. It was a time when brother Ray's recordings were
still raw and unpolished. Unpolished is bad and bad is good!
"I've Got a Woman" aka "I Got a Woman" was released as a single in December of 1954 and spent a whopping 20 weeks on the black music chart, going all the way to number one.
"I've Got a Woman" - Ray Charles (March 1955, highest chart position #1 R&B Singles)
Rolling Stone ranked "I've Got a Woman" #235 on its list of
the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. Frankly, I don't think that I could place that many others above it!
JOHNNY ACE
In early March of 1955 "Close Your Eyes" by the Five Keys was beginning its long journey up the record charts on its way to becoming The Mother of All Dell Songs. That same week "Pledging My Love" by R&B vocalist Johnny Ace was reaching its peak at number one on the black music chart and top 20 on the pop singles list.
A song with a more tragic story behind it would be hard to find. The record was released posthumously after Johnny died of a self inflicted gunshot wound. It happened on Christmas Eve 1954. Johnny was backstage at a Houston auditorium between sets of a concert performance. As the story goes Johnny had been drinking and clowning around with a pistol when he accidentally shot himself in the head. He died Christmas day. For decades it was widely reported that Johnny had been playing Russian Roulette but that scenario was disputed by witnesses. Knowing the back story makes Johnny Ace's ballad "Pledging My Love" sound like a death dirge.
"Pledging My Love" - Johnny Ace (March 1955, highest chart position #17 Hot 100, #1 R&B)
DEAN MARTIN
Dean Martin was one of the few recording artists that my parents and I could agree on. No question about it, Dean was a cool cat. Better make that rat as in The Rat Pack.
At age six I spent countless hours in the basement sifting through my parents' collection of 45rpm records and playing them on my teensie weensie, teeny tiny tinny turntable. "Memories Are Made of This," Dean's big Christmas season hit, was a favorite of mine back then and it still is today.
"Memories are Made of This" - Dean Martin (December 1955, highest chart position #1)
My curiosity soon led me to flip Dean's record over. Imagine my delight when I discovered one of my first killer bees, a lively number entitled "Change of Heart."
"Change of Heart" - Dean Martin, January 1956, uncharted B side of "Memories Are made of This")
RAY CHARLES
Before we hit the road, Jack, I give you "Greenbacks," another Ray Charles favorite released in 1955. This is Ray at his underground, bluesy best before he became the darling of the jet set and the Playboy After Dark crowd, added the Raylettes, crossed over into country music and lost me as a fan.
"Greenbacks" went top 5 R&B but never made a dent in the pop chart. It doesn't take Columbo to figure out why. In the mid 50's the so-called Hit Parade was about as vanilla as you could get. It was dominated by big band instrumentals and Caucasian crooners from the World War II era singing pop standards and showtunes and making rhymes with words
like moon and June. Benign ditties like "(How Much Is That) Doggie in the Window" by Patti Page were the kind of songs that my parents listened to on the radio and played on their hi-fi set. The music was safe, sane, sober and sterile - the antithesis of rock and roll and nitty gritty rhythm and blues.
When you examine the lyrics and listen to the
clip that follows you will understand why street wise
sly, slick and wicked R&B numbers like "Greenbacks" rocked the sensibilities of many white middle class Americans and made the church lady grab her hanky and clutch her heart.
As Iwas walking down the street last night A pretty little girl came into sight I bowed and smiled and asked her name She said, "Hold it bud, I don't play that game" I reached in my pocket, and to her big surprise There was Lincoln staring her dead in the eyes.
On a greenback, greenback dollar bill Just a little piece of paper, coated with chlorophyll
She looked at me with that familiar desire Her eyes lit up like they were on fire She said, "My name's Flo, and you're on the right track, But look here, daddy, I wear furs on my back, So if you want to have fun in this man's land, Let Lincoln and Jackson start shaking hands."
On a greenback, greenback dollar bill Just a little piece of paper, coated with chlorophyll
I didn't know what I was getting into But I popped Lincoln and Jackson, too I didn't mind seeing them fade out of sight, I just knew I'd have some fun last night Whenever you in town and looking for a thrill If Lincoln can't get it, Jackson sure will
On a greenback, greenback dollar bill Just a little piece of paper, coated with chlorophyll
"Greenbacks" - Ray Charles (November 1955, highest chart position #5 R&B)
Yes, you heard right. Ray's best laid plans went sideways when the shady lady got up to powder her nose.
She just slipped out the back, Jack She made a new plan, Stan Didn't need to be coy, Roy Just listen to me She hopped on the bus, Gus Didn't need to discuss much Just went for a pee, Lee And got herself free.
The Miracles hit big in the early weeks of 1961 with their top 5 charting single "Shop Around." It would take two full years before the Smokey Robinson led Motown group would return to the top 10 with "You Really Got a Hold On Me." Although they weren't exactly burning up the charts during the lean months in between the Miracles nevertheless made some outstanding recordings.
In the late summer of 1962 "Way Over There" died on the vine at #94 on Billboard's Pop Singles chart and never even registered on the R&B Singles survey. My Pick to Click is the uncharted B side which sounds a little like "Raindrops," the Dee Clark hit from the previous summer. Here are Smokey and the Miracles singing "If Your Mother Only Knew."
"If Your Mother Only Knew" - The Miracles (September 1962, uncharted B side of "Way Over There")
In 1967 the Miracles laid down an album track that became
a classic dance number in the South Philly/Jersey area.
"It's a Good Feeling" was featured on the radio and television programs of boss jocks like Jerry Blavat and Hy Lit and was played for years at regional record hops. The people in this video are performing the Wagner Walk, one of the Geatorific line dances of the 60s, a variation of which was also popular with our gang at the Shady Dell.
"It's a Good Feeling" - Smokey Robinson & the Miracles (from the 1967 album Make it Happen)
DIANA ROSS
& THE SUPREMES
During the Christmas season of 1966 "You Keep Me Hangin' On," the chart topping single by the Supremes, was playing nightly at the Shady Dell. At home, I frequently flipped the record and listened to Motown's most popular girl group per-
forming the exquisite B ballad "Remove This Doubt."
"Remove This Doubt" - The Supremes (December 1966, uncharted B side of "You Keep Me Hangin' On")
GLADYS KNIGHT
& THE PIPS
Here's how I can tell that I'm getting old. There are millions of people alive today who never heard of A list soul groups like the O'Jays, the Spinners and the Pips. There are millions more who only know those acts from their 70s hits like "Back Stabbers," "Rubberband Man" and "Midnight Train to Georgia." What a shame, because all three acts were at their best in the 60s.
Gladys Knight & the Pips were already experienced veterans by the time they cut their first record in 1961. The family R&B/Soul act from Atlanta waxed some excellent sides on
the Fury and Maxx labels before signing with Motown and achieving their first major hit with "I Heard it Through the "Grapevine." One of those pre-Motown gems was released
in the spring of 1964 and cracked the top 40. You would be hard-pressed to find a ballad with more drama and feeling than "Giving Up."
"Giving Up" - Gladys Knight & the Pips (June 1964, highest chart position #38)
Only two things you done
need to know, fool...
Ain't Hannibal or nobody else
gonna get me up in no
AIR - O - PLANE!!! .....
and the D-Teamplays
the best music!
O.V. WRIGHT
In the 70s some of the coolest sounds around were coming from the Memphis studios of Hi Records.
"Rhymes," co-written by Al Green and performed by R&B great O.V. Wright, made only a brief chart appearance in the fall of 1976, but Wright's silky smooth vocals and the song's compelling lyrics made a lasting impression on me.
"Rhymes" O.V. Wright (September 1976, highest chart position #87 R&B)
THE CHORDETTES
WITH JEFF KRON
& JACKIE ERTEL
The barbershop harmonies of the Chordettes were among
my earliest musical memories. I was barely five years old
in December 1954 when the female quartet hit #1 with
"Mr. Sandman," a record my mom and dad owned and that
I played often on my tiny tinny record player. In 1956 the popular girl group had a top 5 hit with "Born to Be With You," another of my parents' records I listened to again and again. In 1958 the Chordettes reached #2 with "Lollipop" followed by a top 20 single, the theme from one of my favorite TV series Zorro.
For decades those were the only Chordettes recordings I knew about. In the 1970s a friend gave me a box of records he no longer wanted and in it I discovered "A Girl's Work is Never Done," a poor selling Chordettes single released in 1959. Featured on the picture sleeve was Jackie Ertel, daughter of one of the original Chordettes, Janet Ertel. Jackie's other claim to fame was marrying Phil Everly of the Everly Brothers. "Girl's Work" is an obvious girl group knock-off of the Coasters' hit "Yakety Yak" and I didn't pay much attention to it.
Instead, I found myself spinning the heck out of the killer bee side of the record. "No Wheels" featured Jeff Kron doing his best imitation of hipster Edd "Kookie" Byrnes and Jackie Ertel credited for screaming "NO NO NO!" Both sides of the record benefited from the instrumental prowess of bandleader and tenor sax player King Curtis. "No Wheels" is so bad it's great! Dig it, man. It's far out, the coolest, like way gone, daddy-o!
"No Wheels" - The Chordettes with Jeff Kron & Jackie Ertel (September 1959, uncharted B side of "A Girl's Work is Never Done")
“Words and photographs could never do those dancers justice because you had to be there - in a club with great music, like minded people and loads of atmosphere.” David Meikle of Glasgow, Scotland wrote those words in an article remembering the Twisted Wheel, the legendary northern soul club in Manchester, England. Yet, Mr. Meikle could just as easily have been describing the scene at my favorite "in" spot of the 1960s, the Shady Dell in York (Pennsylvania, not England).
THE SHADY DELL
YORK, PENNSYLVANIA
The Shady Dell: Part of York County's Colorful History
What began as a home based restaurant and bakery in 1945 evolved over the next two decades into the hottest teen nightspot in York county complete with indoor and outdoor dance floors. It went beyond that. Shady Dell owner John Ettline and his wife Helen put out the welcome mat offering hospitality, comfort, support, and encouragement to generations of young people. During its impressive 45-year life span the Dell became a home away from home for countless area youth from a variety of backgrounds.
At the height of its popularity in the early and mid 60s the Dell, located on the southern outskirts of the White Rose city, was as widely known as North York’s White Oak Park ("the Oaks"), Harrisburg's Raven club or any other youth-oriented venue in central Pennsylvania. The Dell attracted crowds from all over the region. It brought together under one roof kids from middle class families and kids from working class families - city kids, suburban kids, small town kids and farm kids.
The diverse cast of characters that constituted the Shady Dell family was a potentially volatile mix. Each of us had to find a way to fit in and get along (or risk being voted off the island). In the end, in spite of our differences, most of us learned to dance together without stepping on each other’s toes.
Shady Dell regulars were nicknamed Dell rats and we had at least two things in common: a love of the music that played on the Dell’s jukebox and a genuine respect for John and Helen Ettline who graciously made their home our home.
GREATER THAN THE SUM OF ITS PARTS
The Dell was a unique, magical coming of age experience - a proving ground - a secluded hideaway where adolescents could develop social skills, learn to handle responsibility and test the waters of adulthood free from the hassles of ubiquitous adult micromanagement.
SHOCKING TRUE CONFESSION: I WAS A TEENAGE DELL RAT! by Shady Del Knight
I became a Dell rat in 1965 at the age of fifteen. Disparaging rumors about the place had been circulating for years. If you were to believe the gossip the Dell was a snake pit where bad boys and bad girls went to do bad things. Some people, including my mother, referred to the Dell as a “den of iniquity.” Intrigued by the horror stories, I was determined to get there and see for myself what all the fuss was about.
In preparation for my grand entrance, I subjected myself to weeks of rigorous training at a Shady Dell boot camp of my own devise. I grew my hair longer and took up the smoking habit. I practiced in front of a mirror until I was convinced that my stance, walk, and dancing style were all cool.
To complete my extreme makeover, I went shopping for my 'uniform' which consisted of a tapered shirt from the Hub, slacks by H.I.S. and two wardrobe essentials: a pair of blue Jack Purcell sneakers and the all-important Baracuta jacket "Made in England." Wearing my 'Cuta' made me feel so terribly, terribly British, you know. Spot on for us bird watchin' blokes, right gov'na?
'JACKS'
AN ABSOLUTE MUST...FOR DANCIN' ON DELL DUST!
THE CLASSIC NATURAL COLOUR BARACUTA
STRICTLY CONTINENTAL, MATE!
Moment of Truth: Boy Meets Dell
Too young to drive, I made my first Dell visit happen by bumming a ride one night with my college-age cousin and two of his buddies. Clearly, none of the above was thrilled to be babysitting.
As we drove past York Hospital on South George and headed toward Violet Hill, what began as giddy anticipation was turning to apprehension. Fear of the unknown started creeping into my brain. What if the rumors turned out to be true? Would I soon be sharing a needle with a gang of rowdy bikers?
At Violet Hill, we made a dogleg turn to the right and began to climb the narrow, winding, bumpy Starcross Road. By this time my breathing had become labored and I felt queasy. It was as if, on a foolish dare, I had agreed to spend the night with Vincent Price in his House on Haunted Hill. Was it too late to leap from the car and bolt?
"I See the Lights... I See the Party Lights..."
We rounded a bend and I caught my first glimpse of her a short distance up the road. Perched on the hillside was a three-story brick house. Down to the left stood a barn. The festive glow of colored lights rose skyward from an area behind the house. As I would soon learn, the atmospheric illumination originated from strings of lanterns hanging above a patio rigged with remote speakers for outdoor dancing.
As we banked to make our final approach I detected the percussive beat of uptempo music emanating from the barn. We turned left into a gravel parking lot overflowing with vehicles. Here, in all of her rustic splendor, stood the infamous Shady Dell, my destination for the evening and my obsession for years to come!
I Found My Thrill on Violet Hill
My heart was thumping as we climbed the steps that led to the entrance and approached the admission booth. Following my cousin’s lead, I slid a quarter through the window and looked up to see a balding, bespectacled old man grinning back at me. Old? John Ettline would have been 59 at the time. I'm older than that now. Yikes!
“Good evening, gentlemen!” John delivered his cheerful salutation in a booming baritone. Immediately, my anxiety vanished. John’s warm welcome made me feel right at home. It made me feel like I belonged. I didn’t get it at the time but later came to realize that John’s presupposition that we were "gentlemen" was a clever and tactful way of admonishing us to behave accordingly.
Toto, I've a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore!
From the moment I entered the compound I was hooked. The Shady Dell was a private playground for teenagers - a candy land - a fun factory - a safe haven where kids could congregate and blow off steam without having to worry about parents and teachers giving them the evil eye. Instantly I became intoxicated - not by alcohol - but by a sense of total freedom. The place gave off a vibe that was completely new to me – an exhilarating blend of romance, adventure and danger!
Instead of placing a ton of restrictions on their young patrons, John and Helen granted them the independence they craved. The Ettlines were willing to take a step back and trust our judgment. It was okay for us to party as long as things didn’t get out of hand. Most of us eagerly embraced that arrangement. If and when we screwed up, the Ettlines gave us another chance. John and Helen cut you plenty of slack, but if you disrespected them or trashed their establishment both were capable of unleashing a fiery temper.
Of Rats and Men
Contrary to popular belief, the Dell did not harbor gangs of juvenile delinquents eager to conceal their wicked deeds from law enforcement. Sorry, Mom - there weren’t any guns, switchblades or brass knuckles - no gangs, career criminals or prostitutes - just a bunch of ordinary teenagers who loved to meet, mix and mingle, dance and have fun.
Fights were few and far between. There was tacit agreement that it was our duty to preserve and protect the unique setting that the Ettlines had created for us. It required us to police ourselves to prevent incidents that would generate negative publicity or hassles with the law. Scuffles were settled quickly, often through John’s bold intervention. The first lesson a guy learned at the Dell was as follows. Don’t let the gray hair fool you. Nobody messes with John. He’s the boss!
A Special Welcome to All Incoming Freshmen!
I was punched in the face three times during my first year of matriculation on the campus of the Shady Dell School of Hard Knocks. Apparently a few of the guys were determined to teach me a lesson. Yet, getting socked in the kisser did not dampen my enthusiasm or scare me away from the place. In fact they had the opposite effect. They whet my appetite for more! As a Dell newbie desperate to break free of mom’s apron strings and earn respect and acceptance, I wasn’t about to let a bloody nose deter me. For the first time in my life I felt like a man instead of a boy and I loved it. Like Secret Agent Man I was living a life of danger. I was addicted to the rush!
Determined to create an image that would allow me to blend in, appeal to the ladies and avoid becoming a frequent target of the tribe's dominant males, I did a lot of posing, posturing and pretending. I decided that it would be advantageous for me to look tough even though I wasn't. Whenever I strolled into the dance hall, I made sure that my hair was messed up, my shirt tail was hanging out, a lit cigarette was dangling from my lips and my game face was on.
One afternoon before anybody else arrived, my best friend and I rolled around on the dance floor of the barn so that we could properly break-in our new Baracuta jackets by getting them coated with Dell dust. This drove my mother crazy. She kept asking me how I got my jacket so badly soiled. She was even more perplexed when I forbade her to get it cleaned. How could I explain to her that I didn’t want to risk weakening my status with the other guys by wearing a clean jacket?
In my mom’s day the ideal guy wore a white sport coat and a pink carnation. His hair was neatly cropped, oiled down and slicked back off his forehead. That look would have spelled social suicide at the Dell in the mid 60s. My goal was to look like I had just been in a fight at reform school, and if I got my uniform dirty or bloodied in combat, it was a GOOD thing.
Helen & John Ettline
Shady Dell Owners
Helen and John: Not Your Typical Mom and Pop
Even by mid 60s standards, John Ettline seemed part of a vanishing breed of men. John never called me by my first name. He always chose to address me as “Mr. Knight." John maintained that friendly formality through all the years I knew him. I’m very glad he did. John always made me feel important when he added the title “Mr.” to my name. Making insecure teenagers feel good about themselves was John’s greatest gift. He always treated young people with dignity and respect and that made them want to return it.
Along with his outstanding people skills, John possessed a photographic memory. He could always match a face with a name. He seemed to know a lot about anything or anybody that you happened to be discussing. John Ettline had a million stories to tell - all of them interesting.
Although old enough to be our grandparents, there was no generation gap between the Ettlines and their teenage guests. They seemed to remember better than other grown-ups what it was like to be young. John and Helen stayed in touch and in tune with the youth culture. Never was that more in evidence than one day at the York Fair in September, 1968. I was sitting in the grandstand awaiting the start of the James Brown concert. I turned around to search the crowd for familiar faces and there, a few rows behind me, sat Helen and John. In a year when racial tension was running high in York and elsewhere, it was remarkable to see a white couple in their 60s at a James Brown concert, chanting along with the rest of us, “Say It Loud: I’m Black and I’m Proud!”
John and Helen were cool. Young people felt at ease talking with them. Unlike many adults, John and Helen listened to us. They cared without preaching or judging. The Ettlines treated their teen visitors like extended family. They believed in the potential of every young person, including troubled youth from broken homes. They spoke to us about the value of an education and honest hard work. They sponsored athletic programs and honored America’s armed forces. They shaped young lives by instilling a sense of pride and self esteem. John and Helen went out of their way to make all of their kids feel like somebody - even those whose families were telling them they were nobody.
The Dell Jukebox: ALL KILLER AND NO FILLER!
Upon arriving on the Dell scene I soon realized that the jukebox in the dance hall was loaded with the greatest, most danceable records to be found anywhere. There were quite a few songs that I had never heard before and would never hear anywhere else. The music mix that played nightly at the Dell was consistently better than what I was hearing on the radio. In the mid 60s the Dell's musical menu was an exciting blend of Motown, Chi-town, New York and Philly soul, Memphis, southern R&B, blue-eyed soul, Brit beat, sunshine pop, garage, psych and folk-rock plus a few do-wop favorites held over from the 50s.
Shady Dell regulars, the gang I now refer to as the Rodentia Intelligentsia, prided themselves on having radar for cool. Year in and year out they discovered and popularized songs that radio stations across the country overlooked. Records that lingered near the bottom of the national chart often became cherished classics at the Dell. Forgotten flips were elevated to mega-hit status by Dell rats unfettered by the limitations of radio play lists.
Certain songs resonated with the Dell crowd to such an extent that they stayed on the jukebox for years. The best example of this phenomenon is the record ranked #1 on my survey of the 200 Greatest Hits Of The Shady Dell. It remained one of the most popular jukebox selections a dozen years after its initial release in the 50s. That very special song, the greatest and longest lasting Shady Dell hit of all time, was "Close Your Eyes" by the Five Keys.
THE FIVE KEYS
"Close Your Eyes" Ranked #1
Del-Chords & Magnificent Men
Another mighty evergreen at the Shady Dell was "Everybody’s Gotta Lose Someday," an intense, power-packed r&b/soul ballad by the Del-Chords, a racially mixed group from York. Released in 1964, the record was still being played heavily two years later, jamming the floor with slow dancers several times a night. Dave Bupp and Buddy King, lead vocalists from the Del-Chords, eventually merged with band members of Harrisburg’s Endells to form a blue-eyed soul group called the Magnificent Men. The “Mag Men,” as we called them, were white guys who had a passion for black music and the vocal talent and musicianship to authentically perform it. Their inspiring ballad "Peace of Mind" was the first in an impressive string of Dell hits for our hometown heroes.
Magnificent Men
HEAVY HITTERS AT THE DELL!
The Emperors of Harrisburg
Records by the Emperors, another home-grown act, were also enormously popular with Dell dancers. A black group from the state capital, the Emperors were exponents of the “Harrisburg sound,” a blend of r&b, soul, garage and Latin influences. "Karate," the Emperors’ best known recording, was the first of eight raw, funky, organ-driven numbers to achieve hit status at the Dell in 1966 and 1967.
THE EMPERORS
DELL ROYALTY - THEY RULED!
End of an Era
Once addicted to the Dell, I pretty much lived there until the fall of 1967 when I left York to attend an institution of higher learning. Over the next four years I visited my Dell family whenever possible during holidays, spring breaks, and summer vacations. My stint as a Dell rat officially ended in 1971 when I found a job in another city and moved away from York for good.
My final visit to the Dell came in March of 1984 when my career took me out of state. My last piece of business before leaving was to drop in at the Dell and say a final goodbye. I entered the house to find John sitting on a stool at the lunch counter reading the newspaper. “Well, hello stranger!” John bellowed, rising to his feet and extending his hand. “Long time no see, Mr. Knight!" After shaking hands with John and exchanging a few pleasantries, I inquired about Helen. I was stunned to learn that she had passed away a few weeks earlier. I never got the news! John and I stood alone in Helen’s snack bar, reminiscing about the good old days and lamenting how much things had changed since the Dell’s golden era.
After a brief chat with John I excused myself and walked down the sidewalk to check out the barn. The old dance hall was dimly lit and nearly vacant. The only customers were two boys with shoulder length hair standing by the jukebox with a couple of girls. No music was playing. The place was dead or, more accurately, in the final lonely stages of life. If it had been twenty years earlier, the joint would have been jumpin’. The four young people eyed me suspiciously. Is this guy a narc? I put myself in their combat boots and realized that the sight of a stranger in his mid thirties was probably making this new generation of Dell rats uncomfortable. I promptly exited the barn and returned to the house to bid farewell to John.
That night marked the last time I ever saw John or entered the Shady Dell. I made one final pilgrimage in 1988 when I returned to Pennsylvania to visit my parents. I drove up to the Dell one afternoon with every intention of going inside. I’m sure I would have encountered a smiling John Ettline and that he would have immediately remembered my name. Yet, I never got out of the car. I chose not to enter because I didn’t want to further contaminate my memories by seeing how much older John looked and how much more dilapidated the Dell had become. All I could do was sit there in the parking lot gazing at the barn, the house, the bench and the steps to the admission booth where the whole journey started. My mind flooded with a thousand memories of the people, the place, and the time of my life.
John Ettline closed the Dell in the fall of 1991. He died at the beginning of 1993. John’s family auctioned off the restaurant equipment, signage and other Dell paraphernalia in the spring of that year.
(Mike Argento's 1993 article in the York Daily Record was used as a reference source for portions of this cover story.)
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