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| Houdini: My Grandfather's Friend |
It’s a long story and not necessarily a good one but it is at least filled with half-truths and speculation about real people who did many of the things the story suggests but probably not at the precise moment or with the comedic effect as set forth here. If you happen to be one of those people, sue me.
My father, Thomas Hardy III was a fine man from great heritage. He was the fifth Tom Hardy in a family of mathematically illiterate vaudevillians. I was the sixth in the line of Tom Hardys but in keeping with the family tradition, I dropped the “VI” from my name and went by “Jr.”
Dad was classically-trained in the arts of entertainment through the then dying institution of vaudeville. His mother and father, my Grandparents, were both named “Tom Hardy” – Grandma was named Thoma Bridget Hadley. The name “Thoma” was a family name in the Hadley lineage and was traditionally thought to mean “star dancing” or “star dancer” in Gaelic. It turns out that Thoma actually is a bastardization for “God-Fearing” or “Timothy.” Still, it was as if they were meant to be.
Grandma Tom was a dancer with training in ballet, tap, jazz, ballroom, ballyhoo, strip, burlesque and some classical Irish folk dance. She stopped doing the ballyhoo and strip when she married Grandpa Tom. He didn’t object to the moral implications of the strip act – which by now would seem tame – he objected to her working alone. She was getting shows and engagements without him. He was jealous of her success. He was, as my father said, "Man enough to admit he didn't like being shown up by a skirt." My grandfather had class and would not have likely said "skirt" as a description of a woman or his wife. My dad, on the other hand, would not be as classy; even if it was his own mother.
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Continue reading True Story: The Story of the Hardy Magicians, Vol. 1
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