Well-remembered by generations of Mon-Yough area residents, Ben Gross’ restaurant is today known as Chesterfields in North Huntingdon. This ad is from 1958.

1963 ad for the Carpatho-Rusyn club in Duquesne. Don’t know who the Bell Hops were, but I suspect they were a doo-wop group.

The Vogue Terrace, which burned down in the mid-1960s, is perhaps best remembered for lending its name to a young group of singers from Turtle Creek that was originally known as The Val-Aires.

Their manager suggested they change their name to The Vogues and the rest is history. By the way — although two groups of singers tour under the name “The Vogues,” only the group fronted by Chuck Blasko is the original.

This ad is from December 1951.

The Houserockers on Saturday, followed by The Condors and The Oncomers ... this sounds like Mon Valley garage rock at its finest!

The Oncomers — which later changed its name to “Grant Street Exit” — featured Billy Capranica on bass, Jack O'Neill on drums, and Wayne Schillinger on guitar.  O'Neill later hooked up with two members of The Arondies (Jim Pavlack and Gary Pittman) and joined a group called Soul Congress.

Plus a steak dinner for $2.50? Holy cow ... as soon as I can perfect my time machine, I’ll be there! (1962)

Wow! Individual dancing instruction by Arthur Murray! I’ll bet they had the numbered feet on the floor and everything ... slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, slow, quick quick ... I’m not sure where the Casa Loma was exactly, though most of the nightclubs in White Oak were clustered near the intersection of Lincoln Way and Route 48. (1958)

Once your dance lessons are complete, you can drive over the Kennywood Bridge to the Duquesne Eagles, Aerie 1087, and dance the polka, the waltz, the Twist, the Limbo, and the Et Cetera. (1963)

Another nightclub in White Oak with which I’m not familiar. A Google search yielded no information on “singing sensation” Rosemary O’Connors. Sammy Petrillo had some success as a Jerry Lewis impersonator.

Question: If Jerry himself is annoying, how much more annoying would an impersonator be?

Perhaps you’d like to see a movie, instead? From 1928 until the early 1970s, The John P. Harris Memorial Theater was McKeesport’s quality movie house ... though this double-bill of Mickey Rooney and Rory Calhoun doesn’t exactly scream “quality” to me. Baby Face Nelson shows up on American Movie Classics occasionally.

And look whose movie is “coming soon” ... Jerry Lewis’! (Paging Sammy Petrillo ...)

Other Downtown McKeesport movie theaters included the Victor, the Liberty, the Capitol, and the Hippodrome. The Hippodrome closed in the 1940s; Eger Motors (the Pozzuto & Sons Plumbing store on Walnut Street) gutted the building and reused it as a Ford dealership. The other theaters were closed by the late 1960s and were torn down in the name of “urban renewal.” TV and suburban theaters — like the one at Eastland Mall — did them in. (1958)

A step down in quality from the Memorial, and a few blocks east on Fifth Avenue, was the Victor Theater. The cult-classic Rodan actually sounds better than the Mickey Rooney movie above. The Victor (so I’m told) specialized in monster flicks, action pictures, and other kiddie fare. (1958)

Perhaps you’d like to go to the drive in, instead? Except that it’s JANUARY 1958 in Western Pennsylvania, and we’ll freeze our ticket stubs off! Who goes to the bleedin’ drive-in in JANUARY?

But ... they have the Newest Type Arvin In-a-Car Heaters! Well, that’s just fine, then. When our clothes catch on fire, we’ll forget all about the cold!

Perhaps tomorrow, we’ll go roller skating at the Palisades. No smoke! No dust! No fumes! And it’s “safe”!

Oh, really? Have you ever seen me on roller skates? (1963)