История закрылась: в Поттсвилле навсегда прекратились 140-летние новогодние балы элиты

For about 140 years, the area’s most exclusive social event was the Pottsville Assembly. On New Year’s Eve, the well-to-do and well-connected danced the night away in the ballroom at the Necho Allen Hotel. Begun in 1837, when Pottsville was booming due to the burgeoning anthracite coal industry, it lasted until 1977. Pottsville’s nouveau riche patterned their organization after the Philadelphia Assembly. In the early part of the 20th century, the food was provided by Philadelphia caterers and the music by orchestras from the finest New York hotels. Columnist Ione Geier wrote what amounts to a social history of the Assembly in the Pottsville Republican’s 100th anniversary edition in October 1984. Exclusive club Membership in the Assembly was limited to 75, all men, for a long time. Closely guarded, it was handed down only to relatives and friends. An invitation to the New Year’s Eve ball was a symbol of having arrived socially. William F. Gable, Assembly secretary in the 1950s, recalled there were people who would call or write members in an attempt to gain an invitation. In 1904, when it was held at Union Hall, next to the Academy of Music on Mahantongo Street, the ballroom was swathed in pink, and white lace curtains were draped on the windows. A parlor was created with chairs, sofas and paintings brought from members’ homes. For a time, a dance called the Summer Assembly was held at Railway Park. The Assembly bounced around from Union Hall to Centennial Hall, the Pottsville Armory and Charlton Hall. In 1927, during Prohibition, it moved to the Necho Allen Hotel. Members got around the ban on alcohol by renting rooms near the ballroom. Between dining and dancing, they freshened guests’ drinks from their private liquor supplies. Dress code Traditionally, the Assembly began with a receiving line of older married women, referred to as dowagers, who held special social rank in the social hierarchy. Formal evening attire was mandatory for men. It consisted of a black tailcoat and trousers, a white tie and a “boiled,” or stiffly starched, white shirt. Men wore white gloves, a black overcoat and top hat. Even younger men carried a gold or silver beaded cane, a throwback to the Victorian era when gentlemen never appeared in public without a walking stick. It wasn’t until after World War II that men were permitted to wear tuxedos to the Assembly. Women wore stunning gowns. From the 1930s to the 1950s, society editors devoted lengthy columns to detailed descriptions of the gowns. Mrs. E.C. Luther, wife of a coal magnate and bank president, usually received attention in the press. In 1931, a reporter wrote that Luther wore “a heavy emerald necklace and a stunning and most becoming gown of white satin.” Gaiety abounded There was a time when the band performed until 4 a.m. before signing off with “Home Sweet Home.” Musicians played college songs, and everyone sang along. There were years when Clinton W. Sheafer, heir to a mining fortune, took over the drums in the orchestra. He could pound the skins like a professional, twirling the sticks as he played. After the dance was over, Sheafer hired the band to go home with him and play while his guests had breakfast. The last waltz By the 1970s, the Assembly lost some of its allure. Younger members began to complain the dance was too formal and cost too much. When members died or dropped out, there were fewer younger people to take their place. In its final years, the guest list was expanded and the dress code relaxed. On Dec. 5, 1977, an announcement was made — there would be no more Assemblies. “A few Assembly members still get together informally on New Year’s Eve to toast each other and their lost dance,” Geier wrote in 1984. “For a few minutes, they breathe new life into what once was Pottsville’s most prestigious social event.”