On the night of February 23, 1991, One Meridian Plaza, a high-rise office building located in Center City Philadelphia, burst into flame. It was a serious fire. Lives were lost.
At the time, I was working as a humble clerk at Barnes & Noble, located on Chestnut near Broad, essentially right across the street. When I arrived on Sunday morning, Chestnut was blocked, since it was close enough that debris, and indeed the building itself, could have tumbled down onto the store front. I remember spending the morning over at the Philadelphia Art Museum (back in the days of free admission, Sundays until 1 p.m.), I stood on the steps, immortalized by “Rocky,” watching the smoke billow into the sky.
By Monday, a new work strategy was in place: employees were to go around the back of the bookstore and pound on the fire door (located on Sansom, across from the Union League), to be let into the basement to help out with receiving.
There, we all cheerfully went to seed. Much coffee was consumed, and the menfolk all started in on their solidarity beards. After a week or two, a good friend of mine took a look at me and commented, “Man… that beard makes you look like nobody famous.”
Two weeks into self-isolation, I am now working on my Corona beard, and again, I’m looking like nobody famous. Here are a few photos of some well-known composers who thankfully outgrew their flirtations with facial hair.
CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: Bearded Mahler, Bernstein, Bartók, and Ravel
