Retreat Down South
The 181 Club, at 181 2nd Avenue, was a prime target. It was run by Anna Genovese, the wife of Vito Genovese, soon to be in federal prison on drug charges. The 181 had opened its doors in 1945, as the Howdy closed down, but would not survive action against it by the New York State Liquor Authority (SLA) in 1951. Branded “an affront to the community and a danger to the morals of the citizenry” because of the “disorderly” nature of the gender non-conforming dress and behavior of the performers, staff, and patrons, the 181 lost its license and its appeals. By July 1951, the show on 2nd Avenue was over, to be revived in 1953 by the Club 82 at 82 East 4th Street. The mob was no longer able to offer its profitable gay nightclub business the protection it needed.[1]
By 1959, all of the girls—Blackie, Rusty and Dorian—had given up on New York and settled down in Florida. While the Johns Committee (1956-1969), which led Florida’s version of the Red Scare inspired by McCarthyism, had begun investigating subversives of all sorts—civil rights groups, especially the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People and suspected communist organizations—it found no threats to speak of. Colleges and universities, along with students and faculty, were the next targets, with a primary focus on homosexuals, who were believed to pose a threat to the nation’s youth and national security. But for the time being, longstanding business associations and the tourist trade seemed to keep cross-dressing entertainment viable in Miami.
And as was the case for so many, it was a lovely retreat for Blackie and Rusty, who bought a house on North 13th Court in Hollywood, FL. Dorian continued to travel and entertain but bought the house next door. Both Blackie and Dorian would find employment and a chance at movie stardom a few years later when they both took jobs—Dorian as performer, Blackie as a sort of bouncer—at the remarkable Miami Beach burlesque and strip establishment “Show Bar” on Collins Avenue, run by the remarkable and indefatigable performer and entrepreneur Zorita (1915-2001), who had left her birth name “Ada Brockette” far behind in Ohio, California, and New York. Married and divorced three times, Zorita had been a close friend of many New York lesbians in the 1930s and 1940s entertainment community, and always preferred a female companion. One of the girls from the 181 reported that Zorita had gone along with the gang to the beach in New Jersey and, typically, took over the kitchen and cooked breakfast for everyone. Another friend who had sat in on Zorita’s act with her two snakes, boa constrictors Elmer and Oscar, that she had made famous around the country, always remembered audience expectations. “Where’s your snake, Zorita?” asked an impatient customer. “Four feet up your ass, cocksucker,” was Zorita’s notorious reply. [2]
It is no surprise then that Zorita and the Show Bar were soon chosen for the production of a film that is still available for viewing online. Judy’s Little No-No (1969) tells the timely tale—considering the recent revolution in Cuba that kept it in the news—of “Cuban killers who pursue a go-go dancer whose refugee boyfriend left her a package containing a stolen jewel.” Blackie, listed as an “actor,” and Dorian as an “actress” are among the cast; Zorita is more of a principal.[3]
But time was running out, especially for Dorian, who would die in 1970 of a breast cancer that could not be contained. Blackie and Rusty would live on in Hollywood, FL, with periodic visits to relatives in New York and more frequent visits from those relatives, who loved to share the Florida sun and the girls’ swimming pool. Today, Blackie, Rusty, and Dorian rest peacefully together in the Hollywood Memorial Gardens cemetery in Hollywood. Blackie and Dorian did not use their birth names for the markers. They rest in peace under their stage names because that was, in fact, who they had become.
Back at the Show Bar, as business and age began to tire Zorita out, she finally gave up the entertainment business and moved up the coast to Stuart, Florida, where she lived with a beloved of many years and raised Persian cats. She has recently become the subject of an intense and remarkable study by Miami historian Julio Capo Jr., who had the good fortune to become friends with Zorita’s only child, her daughter Tawny Petillo. Petrillo has preserved a treasure trove of memorabilia from her mother’s long career. They have honored her memory with brilliant essays and interviews.[4]
In fact, while drag artists and other entertainers of a homosexual bent have become a very popular topic for students of history, there is always more to be done, including names and faces that have not been recognized for their unique contributions. Perhaps the characters studied here will open doors to more discoveries.
Notes
[1] Alexis Hortis, “The Mob Nightlife,” in The Mob and the City (Prometheus, 2014), 155-172.
[2] Gail Crumpton, aka Gail Williams, interview with author, November 25, 1988.
[3] Judy’s Little No-No, directed by Sherman Price (Schooner Bay, 1969).
[4] Julio Capo Jr. and Tawny Petillo, “The 1950s Burlesque Dancer Who Challenged Florida’s Anti-LGBTQ Dynamics,” Time, March 29, 2024; Julio Capo Jr., “Zorita in Miami. A Queer Southern History,” Southern Cultures (Spring 2025): 10-23, https://www.southerncultures.org/article/zorita-in-miami/.

