JOHN J. DUFFY/Evelyn Dussol Whenever I pass a photographer's shop and get a whiff of hypo and developer I think of John Duffy and wonder if he's still living and, if so, what he's doing now. I know one thing though: I know if what they told me about his joining up with Alcoholics Anonymous is true that is, if he stayed with them...but no, he couldn't possibly have not John Duffy. It would have ruined him ruined his image. His friends would never have permitted him to go that far not John Duffy's friends. On the wagon for a while, yes, but never for good! It's too bad I wasn't older when I worked for Duffy Studios; I'd have been able to absorb more of him. But even so, I'll never forget him. His commercial photography studio was on about the fourth floor of an old loft building at 228 East 45th Street between 3rd Avenue and Lexington, in the Grand Central area, the heart of New York's newspaper, advertising and printing business. His accounts included all the newspapers of the city and any agency you could name: Ruthrauff & Ryan, McCann-Erick-son, J. Walter Thompson, Batten, Barton, Durstine & Osborn, Cecil, Warwick 8c Cecil, Campbell Ewald just about any one you could mention. Duffy would have made a good politician. He had a glib tongue and a beguiling air about him, and cultivated an aura of "right people" with whom he associated both in and apart from business. Actually he made no distinction between his private and business life. It was all one with Duffy, except where his mother was concerned. John Duffy was about thirty-eight when I worked for him, and had never married. He and his good Irish mother still lived down in Hell's Kitchen on 41st Street between 9th and 10th Avenue, a block or so from the Hudson. She wouldn't leave the old neighborhood and it was just as well, for John could not be relied on to pay any more rent. As a matter of fact, I think his brother Ben paid most of the bills. Ben Duffy was vice president of BBD&O and had a national reputation as an advertising man. His success story's been written up in many books and magazine articles. But John was the lovable, black sheep of the family. In order to get John out of a financial hole, Ben had to agree to co-sign all Duffy Studio checks. He did this for awhile, and then gave the power of attorney to his secretary Alice Cody. Alice Cody had grown up in the old neighborhood with John and Ben and knew the family well. John was pretty sweet on Alice but she knew him too well to tie herself down to a life with him, although she often dated him. I guess you could say Ben was a little a-shamed of John. On the other hand, John hobnobbed with just the people who could throw their advertising accounts to BBD&O, so Ben must have realized John was part of his success. Of course, in turn Ben saw it that BBD&O kept Duffy Studios supplied with photography jobs even if he had to lend John money for the payroll to get the work done. I remember one time John called up on a Friday afternoon at about 2:15. I knew by the noise and excitement in the background John was in one of his haunts. He never stayed in the studio; he was always out "getting a couple of jobs." "Look, Sweetie Pie, did we get enough checks in to cover the payroll this week?" "No, we didn't, Mr. Duffy. We're about $350 short." I could just see him on the other end of the line looking blankly into the rows of whiskey bottles behind the bar, sliding his thumb and forefinger up and down his nose. This action always seemed to accompany his thinking his way out of a tight situation, which was a rather habitual state of affairs with him. "Be a good girl," he said, "and hop in a cab and go up to BBD&O and ask my brother Ben to lend you four hundred bucks. Tell him you'll get it back to him next week." Duffy had a way of delegating all his responsibilities to others and making each one feel indispensable to the business. We all worked for and worried about John Duffy and Duffy Studios. "What if your brother's not there?" "Try Bill Pemberton then or Beebe at the Mirror. And, say, before you go, check the boys in the darkroom about those Rinso prints. I told Harry Goldberg over at R&R we'd deliver them by this morning; it's a RUSH job." I scribbled out a petty cash slip for taxi fare, grabbed my purse and bank envelope, dashed out to the hall and pressed the button for an elevator. Then I raced back into the studio and caught my hair on some drying negatives that were hanging by metal clips on a wire line in the art work room. I yanked myself loose, then groped my way in the darkroom over to where Jimmy, the printer, was sloshing some Lifebuoy Soap proofs in the developer under an eerie red light. I didn't like to go into that darkroom, and never stayed in it any longer than I had to. The Rinso prints weren't ready of course. There was still the art work to be done on the negatives. Duffy hadn't left any instructions about them. Jimmy said he'd look into it. Chase National closed at three o'clock, so I rushed up to 383 Madison Avenue not knowing whether Ben Duffy would be there. It would have been too easy for him to be "out" if I had phoned beforehand. I had to wait awhile but when Alice Cody found out what I wanted she called Ben out of his meeting and we discussed the situation. Ben told me all the things he should have been telling John about how there would be plenty of money to meet the payroll if the Duffy Studios business were properly conducted. I just listened and kept glancing at my watch to remind him of the bank's closing time. I saw Alice go into his office and come back with his checkbook. Finally, he gave me his personal check for the amount, but only after I had given him my word of honor that I would be responsible for it and would positively get it back to him, without fail, the next week. I guess he felt he could rely on anybody more than he could on John. I was only sixteen at the time but I pledged, and fortunately was able to keep my word by borrowing the following Friday from Bill Pemberton, John's friend at The News. It was a "rob Peter to pay Paul" merry-go-round for about a month. Duffy Studios was always in a stew, and always because of Duffy himself. We had to continually round him up for information about just what was required on the jobs sent in to the studio, and what sort of wild commitments he had made as to when they'd be ready, etc. We were one big family worried about our wandering boy, dependent upon him for a living and knowing full well he was counting on all of us to keep up a good front for him. It was a crazy situation but it never occurred to any of the men to look elsewhere for a job. They just couldn't desert Duffy. (continued on next page) 19