What’s In A Name

     Before I go any further let me explain my name. My given name is not really Vellanoff. My given name is Vladimir Eldensky. I got the nickname of Vellanoff after a situation in Chicago a year or so ago after which my cohorts began calling me Vellanoff and it seemed to stick. We were staying in the Palm House boarding house in downtown Chicago and playing at the Majestic Theater a couple blocks away. The Palm House was not the best in town, but certainly not the worst place we could have stayed. However, from the first check-in, the night clerk took a dislike to me, I think because of my accent. I’m sure it didn’t have anything to do with my referring to him as a pferdeschwanz, because of the way he treated the whole troupe that first night. Then maybe again he understood some German. Anyway this one evening we came in and I asked for my room key with the result that he just stood there staring at me. I asked again with no result. By this time I was a little upset so started to crawl across the counter to get my own key. This clerk punched me in the eye, then grabbed me, pulled me the rest of the way over the counter onto the floor and began to jump up and down on my back. I struggled to my feet and stuck a paper spindle in his leg, so that he would have something else to think about while I retrieved my key. This so incensed him that he hit me over the head twice with a heavy stapler, cutting my scalp. While I was trying to get my hanky on my head wound to soak up some of the blood, he grabbed me once again, this time by the front of my suit and threw me across his work space into a glass display case. Luckily I was able to stop myself from going completely through the glass doors by catching myself against the frames. I was sitting in front of the case when he ambled over like a charging bull and tried to kick me in the face. I ducked and he put his foot through the remaining glass of the door. In the process he sliced off the little toe on his kicking foot. I took this opportunity to jump though the swinging gate into the lobby, but he was very quick. He vaulted over the counter, tackled me, and again began to jump up and down on my back. At this point one of the troupe members bounced a heavy glass vase off the back of his head. The vase then dropped to the floor where it shattered into several pieces, and the clerk fell on top of it, neatly slicing off a large patch of scalp. As he was scrambling to his feet, he slipped in some of his own blood, fell down and broke his left arm.

     About this time the police arrived, grabbed the clerk and me and hustled us off to the hospital, then on to jail. We were both booked on a disorderly charge and were hauled up before a judge, for arraignment or whatever. I came into the courtroom with a black eye, a bandage on me head, but little else in the area of physical wear and tear. The clerk on the other hand, came into the courtroom with one foot wrapped up to the point that he was on crutches. His head had enough gauze wrapped around it to restrain a buffalo. His arm was in a sling and his overall appearance was a sorry mess. The judge had us each tell our side of the story and then he called on several witnesses. Everyone seemed to think that the clerk was going to get fined and reprimand as he was mostly the aggressor. We were all amazed at the judges ruling.

Here I need to explain something that I only learned after this situation was all resolved. This judge was a theater nut. He went to see everything and anything showing in the theater. He followed the careers of the prominent players and went out of his way to meet them, get autographs, etc. This judge knew me, even though we had not met and for some reason liked what I did in the theater.

     After listening to everyone’s story about what had happened at the hotel he banged his gavel and told me that if I would sign his autograph book I was free to go. He asked the clerk to come up in front of his bench. He then proceeded to harangue this poor clerk and finally sentenced him to five years in jail and another ten years on probation.

We onlookers in the courtroom were amazed at this extremely severe sentence. He finished up his comments with this statement, “Maybe this will teach you to leave well enough alone. From that time forward everyone referred to me as Wellenough, which I finally Russianized to Vellanoff.