THE FOUR SEASONS


Another year in my New York life was spent at the Four Seasons restaurant in the Segram Building on Park Avenue, the birthplace of the power lunch.  This unique dining mecca is no more but in it's heyday was THE place to see and be seen.  Many celebrities of the day dined in the elegant surroundings.

The beauty of the restaurant changed with every season.  In Spring, the trees in the various rooms were adorned with pink blossoms.  In Summer, lush greenery. In Autumn, the leaves of red and gold.  Then in Winter, bare white birch branches. 



Every last detail changed with the seasons right down to the ash trays.  (When the restaurant merchandise was auctioned off after its closing, a set of the four ashtrays sold for just under $10,000.oo.)

The pages wore Nehru-type jackets, embroidered with the restaurant logo.   In Spring, the jackets were pink, then green for Summer, orange for Autumn and finally in winter, brown.

I was a page.  As a page, you  escorted diners to their tables, told them about the Philip Johnson sculpture hanging over the bar area, pointed out the Picasso on the wall (the largest one in existence at the time) brought telephones to their tables (if needed), or fetched a pack of cigarettes and, in general be of any assistance your guests might need.  (You might also be assigned to check coats at the entrance in the lower lobby.)



Star struck as I was, I relished the times when celebrities came in.  I remember the young John Davidson.   And Gina Lollobrigida whose head seemed too big for her body.  And a party hosted by Carlo Ponti with his wife, Sophia Loren wearing emeralds, to promote their latest endeavor "Marriage, Italian Style."  And there was Kitty Carlisle, Gary Moore, Faye Dunaway, Anthony Newley, the list goes on and on.

But try as I may, I can't recall exactly what I said as I escorted Harry Belafonte, his wife and another couple to their table in the Pool Room.  We paused in front of the Picasso and I spoke a bit about it and said something funny, I guess.   Because Harry Belafonte laughed uproariously and hugged me.
He hugged me!   And he tipped me generously when they departed.    A joyful job that I loved!












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