Every year my mind drifts back to summer memories of days gone by in the Catskill Mountains. Memorial Day marked the opening of “the season,” and the Borscht Belt hotels would blossom to life. Each hotel ballyhooed their latest innovations such as cement swimming pools, indoor plumbing, semi-private toilets and other modern day miracles of the 20th century.

The resorts provided vacation spots for Jewish New Yorkers and also served as a lucrative opportunity for securing summer employment. Young people would come to the hotels to work as waiters and waitresses, bus people, day camp counselors, bell hops or any other way to make a quick buck.

I remember a particular young man named Bobby Cassotto who worked at my family’s favourite hotel located in Parksville, New York, called the Sunnyland. It was owned by a lovely, middle-aged couple, Alex and Jenny Cocose, who emigrated from Eastern Europe after WW II. In the winter the Cocoses operated a fish store, but in the summer they took on the far more laborious position as proprietors of this very small haimisheh Jewish get away.

Most of their staff was also Jewish, although not exclusively so. Bobby was an Italian boy which, as we all know, is almost the same thing.

Bobby worked at everything with great enthusiasm, but just didn’t seem to fit in all that well. His temperament was not that of the typical Catskill waiter or busboy, but more like an emperor in search of his throne. No matter how hard he tried to be one of the gang, there was just something that crept into his demeanor that betrayed the feeling that he was working way below his station.

One summer, Bobby was my waiter in the children’s dining room. Try as he might to hide the fact, even the children sensed his impatience. If a child was misbehaving at a table, just one withering glance from young Bobby would have the kid dropping his matzoh ball.

The adults liked him because at night he was always part of the entertainment. He was a reasonably good singer, although not great, and he knew how to appeal to an audience. His performances were somewhat unpolished, but there was still something in his demeanor that demanded attention and respect. When he opened his mouth to sing a favourite Jewish song, such as My Yiddishe Momma or Eli Eli, the seniors in the group would literally kvel as the notes flowed from his lips.

When the end of the summer arrived with Labour Day Weekend no one really expected to see Bobby return to the Sunnyland next season; and the fact is, he did not. Nor did he return for several seasons thereafter.

One summer evening in the late 50’s, Bobby Cassotto did make a return visit to see the Cocoses and pay his respects. As it turns out, he was appearing at a competing hotel; one a bit larger than the Sunnyland. It was known as the Concord. He was not a waiter in the children’s dining room any longer. As a matter of fact, he name was no longer Cassotto. He was headlining the show at the Concord under the name of Bobby Darin.