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EVERYBODY’S DANISH Chapter (Dad’s friend, the greatest Dane of them all, Victor Borge)
By fred | March 20, 2009
Dear Friend, Family and Fellow BLOGer’s–
This chapter of my unfinished book – “Everybody’s Danish” takes place in the early to mid 1940′s – at least it starts there, the Second World War, the supposed war to end all wars was ending and a Dane arrived in our store.
The guy was dressed so well, looked like a very professional person, with a low, soft voice that had a Danish language accent to it that your could hardly understand. He did have a twinkle in his eyes, should have known this was going to be a good pal of my Dad’s – Dad’s kind of guy!
CHAPTER (Dad’s friend, the greatest Dane of them, all-Victor Borge)
During the last part of the Second World War, I was still a teenager and in High School. It was after the holidays and business was back to normal! Slow! I remember it was a very quiet day. I was half asleep on a summer afternoon waiting for some customers, when a fairly short, thinly built, but very well dressed Danish gentleman walked in. His English, what there was of it, was awful! He asked if Andrew Nielsen was available. I remember thinking, boy, is he right off the boat! Most of our customers had accents, but this guy really needed some work done on his. This is the first I every saw of the world famous Danish / American entertainer Victor Borge.
Some of Victor’s friends in Hollywood had mentioned my father, and our store, and he decided to visit. Victor was famous then, but only in Denmark! Dad was working in the back warehouse, so I ran back and told him he had a visitor. Andy always loved to see new people, especially countrymen.
Victor was immediately invited to the store kitchen for coffee. Dad yelled up from the kitchen, “Fred, fix a few sandwiches and maybe something from the bakery case.” In those days when a Dane invited you for coffee, it was seldom ‘just coffee.’ More likely, a few Danish Open Faced Sandwiches, some pastry, and a little Akvaivit, Cognac, or bourbon to perk up the coffee.
Since our store was right across the street from the Danish Hall, soon every Dane from blocks around, just happened to be in the neighborhood on Thursday, the day Victor made his weekly visit.
Victor Borge is every bit as funny in person as on the stage, probably more so, I always had to tend the store whenever Victor was visiting. My ear was glued to the store kitchen door. The tiny kitchen packed with Dane’s and Victor holding center stage. My Danish was not very good, but what I could understand was fun! Any customers that dared to come to the store to actually buy something and tear me away from my listening post, probably got the fastest service of their lives.
The Dane’s have been considered in Europe as good traders, or merchants. I guess when they put away their longboats and battle axes they had to make a living somehow! Anyway, one day a neighbor a few houses down from the store asked Dad and Victor, very innocently “Where is Denmark?” With out batting an eye, Victor said “Do you know where Israel is?” Yes, the neighbor said. Victor said “It’s the northern part.”
England is a very large trading partner of Denmark. Hams, cheese, butter, eggs, beer, and a ton of other stuff, find there way to England. I remember talking to a very exasperated English businessman, on one of my visits to London years ago. He said “The damn Dane’s used to come over here with their longboats and battle axes and take all our gold, and treasures. Things are not much different now, instead of the longboat and battle ax they come over via Scandinavian Airlines with a briefcase.” It was the same thing as far as he was concerned.
What was the great Victor Borge doing in our little store? Marking time! You are not going to make a very good living in the United States telling jokes in Danish, no matter how great a pianist you are! Victor had to learn English, and not some broken down version, –real English!
He had to not only learn another language, but learn the language so well that he could tell jokes. Unfortunately, the subtle humor of the language called English still escapes many of our citizens even 50 years after arriving in this country. Also remember, that he had to learn the language so well that American’s would pay him thousands of dollars just to see a performance. I think you can understand why it took many months of hard, hard, work for this man to prefect his art.
When the German’s invaded and occupied Denmark the Gestapo (German secret police) were concerned that the people would raise up as Poland did. They certainly could not afford this, Denmark is one of the bread baskets of Europe. The produce of the farms and fisheries was sorely needed to feed their German armies. If the people felt provoked and destroyed their farms, etc., there would certainly be a lot of dead Danes but also a lot of hungry Germans. They were very careful, especially in the beginning of the occupation not to alarm or provoke the Danish people.
Harm to either of two people could have certainly provoked the Dane’s, and the Gestapo knew it. One was the King and the other was their beloved entertainer, the greatest Dane of them all, Victor Borge. The problem for the German Gestapo was that Victor was of the Jewish faith.
The Dane’s drove the German’s nuts! First, the German’s issued and ultimatum that all male Danish Jews must wear a black armband, the very next day every adult male in Denmark, including the King of Denmark was wearing a black armband! Where are the Jews? What do you do, shoot or take off to a camp every male in Denmark, including the King! Who is going to run the farms, catch the fish, etc., etc. The Dane’s, as I’m sure is true of other Scandinavian’s, really don’t give a damn about what your religion or color is. There are Catholic Danes, Protestant Danes, Buddhist Danes, Jewish Danes, Danish West Indies Danes. I’m sure many, many others. They are all Danish. To harm one in any way is to harm all.
The Dane’s were extremely proud of their King Frederick, he and his family had every opportunity to escape to Sweden or England but the Royal Family chose to stay with their people, to be a beacon of light in those dark years of occupation. I believe they are the only royal family of any occupied nation in Europe to endure the hardships of occupation to stay with their people.
One day a Gestapo officer came to the King and said “We are going to take down the Danish flag flying over your castle and put up our German flag.” King Frederick said “If you do, I will have a Danish soldier take it down.” He was told that soldier would be shot immediately when he made the attempt to remove the German flag. The King said “I am that Danish soldier!”
The next day the King, in full dress uniform marched to the flagpole removed the German flag, and replace it with the flag of Denmark. All through the long years of German occupation the Danish flag flew over the castle of the King, a great source of strength and pride to an oppressed people.
Fortunately for our friend Victor Borge, and many thousands of Danish and European Jews, the German’s made one big mistake! And that was allowing the Danish fishing fleet to continue fishing. But, the German’s desperately needed the food.
Many Danish fishermen died when caught smuggling Danish Jews into Sweden, as German PT boats were constantly on the alert for Danish fishing vessels that left the fishing areas. If caught they were shot, period!
Dad said Victor’s problem was that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut! In Denmark during the early occupation by the Germans this damn fool would march across the theater stage with his hair combed down over his face, a black comb held over his lip, the other arm held high in the German salute. Goose stepping across the stage, and doing God knows what to imitate Hitler! This is a very highly intelligent man. How could Victor not know the danger he was in? German soldiers on every street, their hate for Jews of any nationality. The pressure to find and export Danish Jews to camps and the Dane’s struggle to protect their people of the Jewish faith were facts of life, and a huge part of the Danish struggle during the occupation to help Danish Jews and any Jew that they could help get to Sweden.
Is it any wonder that the German Gestapo decided he had to go! The Gestapo finally said enough, this Dane, this Jew, mocking and insulting their leader when they were rulers of Denmark! It is a fact that while the German Gestapo was on their way into the front of the theater, to arrest Victor, men of the Danish underground were sneaking him out the back! And so, the greatest Dane of them all got to Hollywood in a long round about way, first, to Sweden, then to England, then to the United States.
A few years later the popularity of this man in the United States of America, his adopted country, was unbelievable, packed houses at every performance. A TV show featuring Victor Borge would just wipe out the rating charts.
I remember him telling my Dad years later about a night he was scheduled for Hollywood bowl, in California, you could not find a ticket available for love or money! A week before the evening of the scheduled performance his agent called, “Victor, the Musician’s Union is going to picket your performance – we may have to cancel!” “Why, what have I done? I’m a member of the Union, in good standing! Why are they doing this to us?”
His agent said that in the Hollywood Bowl contract with the Union there was a clause that stated a soloist must be accompanied by a full orchestra, if we don’t have the orchestra there and pay them Union wages for the evening they will picket.
Victor Borge’s stage setting consisted of three things, Victor, a piano, and a piano bench, to have other musician’s there would destroy the timing, audience attention it just wouldn’t work. Phone calls were flying back and forth. A meeting with the Union and the outcome was the same they would not budge! Even if Victor was a Union member, the contract with Hollywood bowl said a soloist had to have a full orchestra, or else! The Union members needed work. They would either be there, being paid, or picketing the show – take your pick.
Victor called his agent, and asked some questions “Do they have to perform, actually play their instruments?” “Do they have to be seen?” “Find out and call me back.”
About an hour later the agent called. “No they don’t have to be seen, or even play, but you have to pay them!” Victor said, “Let’s do it!”
On the night of the performance, on the stage was Victor, with his trusty piano, and bench, the very same stage-setting as always. The backdrop was a heavy velvet curtain. Behind the curtain seated, in casual dress, the orchestra was listening to the performance over a loudspeaker.
The orchestra had been told to leave their instruments at home. It is extremely doubtful, that in his lifetime, Victor Borge would ever again have to “pay” a group of people to attend one of his performances.
The rest is history. Victor Borge had perfected his art in the difficult English language. The Americans were no different than the Danes. They loved humor, they loved music. He became one of the greatest entertainers the United States and the world has ever know, – knighted by royalty, worshipped by millions, yet he never forgot his roots and friends of the past.
Many years later my Dad was not the young man of this youth. Long retired and resting at home, he received a phone call from Victor. He was in California and with our mutual friend Kenneth Hansen, owner of the then renowned Scandia restaurant. “Andy, I’ve only got today in Los Angeles, but let’s get together and have lunch, and talk about the old days.” Dad said “Victor I just don’t feel up to getting dressed and driving all the way to Hollywood.” Victor’s answer was “Andy, I can’t do anything about your getting dressed, but if you will get dressed for me I’ll have a cab pick you up in about an hour.” “All right Victor thanks,” Dad said.
Later I heard from Ken Hansen that after talking to Andy, Victor rushed out to the front of his restaurant and grabbed the first cab he could see. Gave the driver a fist full of money, with instructions to pick my Dad up at his home and bring him back to Scandia. He really must have made that cab driver’s day! At least thirty miles or more each way, a hell of a big tip starting out, and the promise of more when he returned with my father!
When Victor came back inside Scandia and Ken heard what he did Ken said “Why didn’t you let my people phone the cab company to pick Andy up, it would have saved you a lot of money?” Victor, answered with sound Danish logic, “If I did that Andy might not have been ready then the cab got there, this way I’m sure he will be ready!”
Regretfully, with Dad’s poor health, that was the last meeting of these two old friends before he passed away. Dad knew many of the top Scandinavian film and stars of Hollywood of the mid 1900’s, to Dad they were nothing special, just folks in another line of work, to put them on some pedestal was stupid to him. They were just another guy or lady working at another job. Funny, I have to assume that because of his casual attitude everyone wanted to be a friend of Andy’s. He would raise hell with them if they needed it and still were friends.
Of all of the Hollywood folks Dad & Mom knew, Victor was my very favorite, he always had time to talk to a young teenager, treated me like an adult. Another of my very favorite people was an actor by the name of Jean Hersholt; Jean would always have time to talk to me, hey that was important to a young kid. Mr. Hersholt, I called him that – Dad and his buddies called him “Jean,” many of you that are old enough to remember films of the mid 1900’s will remember his series of films, dozens of them, where he played the lead character a Doctor Christian. The “Doctor Christian” movies went on for many years. Beside that series he must have played parts in a hundred films at least. Jean’s wife was a weekly customer at our store as Jean loved his Danish liver pate and Danish cheese for lunches. Mom and she would talk girl talk for hours it seemed.
Jean Hersholt was really a nice person, a really nice guy, he was president of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences for many years and received an Academy award for his service to his profession and actors in the Guild. His wife, a real sweet lady, unfortunately I forgot her name. It is so long ago.
I remember once some buddies figured I was lying about knowing the famous Jean Hersholt so I asked Dad if he could get a picture from his buddy. A couple weeks later Jean’s wife, when she came in for her weekly purchase of stuff for Jean’s lunches, handed me a large envelop, in it was this large picture of Jean Hersholt with a wonderful few lines to me and signed by him. I still have the picture tucked away in our family picture albums – memories of so many, many, years ago.
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