A Lifetime A Legacy: Jerry Blavat‘God Bless The Geator’

It was a cold and blustery afternoon. I was driving south through Absecon Island and passing through Margate. I was in a bit of a hurry, but something inside me told me that I should make the slight detour and drive past Memories, the legendary nightclub owned by Jerry Blavat that recently marked its 50th anniversary in “Maaar-gate, New Jersey.”

I drove down toward the bay and Amherst Avenue. January is nothing like the summer along the Gold Coast in Margate. Few, if any, people were walking along the sidewalks, and there were loads of parking spaces. Something that you’d never find on any summer evening. I could see the blue landmark building off in the distance. Luckily, traffic too was virtually nonexistent on this cold afternoon, so I was able to take my time and take it all in. My first observation was exactly what I expected: The few steps leading into the nightclub were piled high with bouquets of flowers. Some large, obviously from florist shops. Others were more simple, probably from local grocery or convenience stores. Regardless of origin, it was evident that all were left with love. Most included notes. There was also a large, handmade sign that read: RIP The Sounds of Summer.

In a strange way, I was momentarily comforted by what I saw. It was exactly as I expected. Then I realized that there was still more – only this was not at all what I expected. Closer to corner of Madison Avenue, there were 12 to 14 “Yon Teens” from back in the day. I’m not sure where this “gang” was from – Jerry always identified his dancers. This group was not dressed as you might expect on a typical night when Memories might be open. No, instead they were bundled up in winter coats. Some wore gloves. Others had hats or earmuffs. Black seemed to be the color of the day. The entire group was dancing. Some alone, others in couples. It was hard to identify exactly what the dances were. One looked like a line dance; others might have been doing the Twist or any of the many other dance crazes from any summer over the past half-century.

I stopped my car in front of the group and rolled down my window. I wanted to listen. Not at all surprisingly, I heard nothing. It was silent. There was not a single audible note of music playing. I smiled because I remembered Jerry once told me that he named his nightclub Memories because it would be a place where people would come to make memories. True to his word, this group had to be dancing to music that was in each of their memories. I imagined that Jerry was looking down and smiling, and no doubt singing along with them.

Noticing my interest, one dancer paused momentarily and looked in my direction. Her makeup streaked down her face. Perhaps from the damp weather, but more likely from some earlier tears. While making eye contact with me, she motioned to the nightclub and, with the stations of the cross, yelled through the gusting wind, “God bless … the Geator!”

Indeed!

How could I not nod in agreement? It was only a day since the world learned of the passing of a treasure: The Geator with the Heater. The Boss with the Hot Sauce. The man with a plan. It was still so difficult to grasp. Jerry Blavat died?

Was I the only person who just expected that Jerry Blavat just might live forever? How could you not? After all, how many 82-year-olds do you know who still work six days a week? He was always so full of life. And how many times had we agreed to meet for lunch in Philadelphia? Often it would be a cold winter Saturday. Maybe there was even still a trace of snow on the sidewalks. I’d sit at the table looking out the window waiting for the bicycle to arrive. If you aren’t aware, although he used his signature Geator-mobile for travel to out-of-town gigs, he mostly used his 10-speed bicycle for meetings and appointments in and around town, regardless of the season! Who does that? What 82-year-old does that? He was filled with boundless energy. Every day and every night. And then there was the smile. No one enjoyed life like Jerry Blavat.

Born in South Philadelphia in 1940 to a Jewish father and an Italian mother, Jerry got his start in show business as a dancer on “Bandstand,” which originated from Philadelphia at that time.

Some people claim that Jerry was more identifiable with Philadelphia than Ben Franklin. That may be true. But you could say that he was just as identifiable with everyone here in Cape May County. His legacy here extends back easily over six decades. He’d often conduct dances for Bob Horn, the original host of “American Bandstand,” at the Avalon Pier on Avalon’s boardwalk. While working with Horn in Avalon or at Wildwood’s Starlight Ballroom, he’d spend weekends on a large cabin cruiser docked in Stone Harbor near the Great Channel Bridge. And do you remember that the Geator was the first headliner in the summer of 1972 when Phil Matalucci opened Phil’s Rock Room in the Princeton Hotel? Blavat worked various venues for Matalucci in the Princeton for nearly a decade.

And although Jerry was a fixture on summer Sundays for more than two decades at LaCosta in Sea Isle City, he always reminded us that his Sea Isle City roots ran deep. He produced dances in Sea Isle as early as the 1950s and ‘60s. His last appearance was just before Thanksgiving at the Oar House in Sea Isle City. And for the past quarter of a century, he broadcasted “the hippest show on the radio” every Friday and Saturday night live from Memories on Cape May County’s KOOL 98.3. In a conversation last summer, he explained: “Over the years I’ve played many venues from Ocean City down to Wildwood. Every summer. There’s a lot of sand in my shoes, my friend. I love it here in Cape May County.”

The superlatives used to describe Jerry’s life and career are limitless. And all accurate. He was a pioneer in the fields of music, radio and television. A tireless self-promoter, he had a gift for being able to make everything seem bigger than life itself. All while never losing sight of what really mattered in life.

A newspaper advertisement from May 1972 promoting Jerry as the opening headliner for the grand opening of Phil’s Rock Room.

Jerry impacted the lives of so many in what can only be described as a life well-lived. But perhaps his greatest attribute, one echoed by so many at his memorial service in January, was how caring and generous an individual he was. These were attributes that set him apart from so many media superstars --- from anyone, for that matter. It wasn’t unusual to get a telephone call from Jerry while he was driving to an appearance. “My man! I haven’t heard from you in a while, my pal,” the calls would often begin. “I just want to make sure that you are OK. Are you feeling OK? Is there anything that I can do for you?” And he’d end each call the same way, “I love you, my pal.” You knew that he meant each and every word.

Almost everyone has their favorite Geator story. Mine took place about five years ago. I was meeting Paul Rotella, the president and CEO of the New Jersey Broadcasters Association at the time. I lost count of the number of times that I tried to explain to him what the Geator was all about. But how do you do justice in trying to explain Jerry Blavat to someone born and raised in the New York metro area? He’d just smile and then add a chuckle to appease me as I’d try to describe the broadcasting treasure that we had in South Jersey.

On this day, we were having lunch outside of a building not too far from Rittenhouse Square. The time and location of our meeting had been changed several times to accommodate both of our schedules. Little did I know that Jerry was about to do in just a couple of minutes what I hadn’t been able to so many times. Rotella was in midsentence when a blur flew by us on a bicycle. “My man, pots and pans!” rang out. I remember Paul asking, “That guy on the bike is coming back here. Do you know him?”

Do I know him? You bet I do, and in a few minutes he would too. A chance encounter that I couldn’t have planned any better if I had tried. We pulled up a chair and Jerry joined us. Our waiter, a young man with an eastern European accent in his early 20s, realized that another guest had joined us and came back to the table. After doing a double take the waiter blurted out, “You’re the Geator with the Heator,” fingers snapping they exchanged hugs and handshakes. For the next 15 minutes, there was a steady stream of well-wishers. I’d swear that every person walking past our table on the sidewalk took time to pay homage to Jerry. The amazing part is that they ranged in age from 20 to probably about 70. What was especially impressive was the diversity of the fans. Not only in age but they included both men and women, all races, and obviously from all walks of life. Most greeted him with one of his signature lines or phrases. One person even tried the impossible: to match Jerry finger snap for finger snap. Sorry, not possible.

In between hugs and hellos there wasn’t much room for conversation at our table. And just as fast as he arrived, Jerry was back on his bike and on his way. Now that Paul had experienced Jerry Blavat in person, I sat back, and it was my turn to smile. There was nothing that needed to be said. Paul just looked at me, shook his head and could only muster, “Wow! I’m speechless. Just wow.” So, I’ve added that to my list of superlatives that describe Jerry Blavat.

Someone described Jerry’s funeral mass as a who’s who of people from all walks of life. What a great description. Sure, Dionne Warwick was among the mourners along with the recently retired Philadelphia media icon Jim Gardner. But like everyone, they stood in line along with people wearing well-worn hoodies or lugging their belongings in a backpack. Everyone loved Jerry. Jerry had the magic ability to relate to anyone and everyone … obviously a key to his success for more than a half-century. Jerry Blavat was a friend to all. Jerry loved his music but most important in Jerry’s life were his children, grandchildren and his very long time companion Keely Stahl.

One of those eulogizing him at his funeral recounted an instance. Jerry was legendary for picking up dinner or bar tabs for friends. But on this one occasion, he picked up a tab for a group of people he had just met. His friend asked him why he’d do something like that for people he hardly knew. His response was classic Blavat: “You never know who’s gonna be on the next jury,” he said with his trademark smile.

Perhaps Jerry’s greatest legacy is the truth that echoes from one of his key phrases: “Keep on rockin’ because you only rock once.” Jerry understood the importance of living each day to the fullest. And he did just that.

Although sadly, he’s no longer with us, Jerry Blavat managed to create millions and millions of memories that will keep that “big tick tock clock on the tower of power” ticking forever for all those who loved him.