Before Balboa
A Closer Look into the Sign That Predated Rocky
Any building continually inhabited for over a century is bound to accumulate artifacts. Hidden façade and interior elements are uncovered during renovations. Old signs from past businesses layer on top of each other — some still hang alone in plain sight. Abandoned property and paperwork lay undisturbed for decades until they are finally discovered and dusted off. To history-minded folk, these items provide insights that help tell the stories of bygone eras. They come together to construct a comprehensive history of the building and the people who graced its rooms. These walls can and do talk; it is our job to piece their words together.
While walking through Kensington one afternoon, I happened to notice what appeared to be an old sign peeking under a half-missing wood board. I initially kept walking but my curiosity shortly got the better of me. I doubled back to peek under the board and decipher the partially concealed sign. Unsuccessful in my attempt, I instead took a photo for future reference.
The building the sign is attached to is known to most as the façade of Mighty Mick’s gym in the Rocky film series (interior scenes were shot in Los Angeles). Longtime Kensington residents remember it as a hardware store in the 1970s — it was most recently home to a dollar store. I performed some investigative work to learn more about the partially obscured “mystery sign.” Here are my findings:
The bottom floor of the property was once home to a restaurant and taproom by the name of Blue Moon Cafe. (Just like that, the mystery was solved!) The cafe’s origins are somewhat unclear, though the earliest record of its existence comes from a license issued by the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board in 1935. A man by the name of Charles Pullman was listed as the owner.
Throughout the life of the cafe, Charles regularly ran newspaper classifieds in search of bartenders, singing waitresses, and kitchen staff.
No taproom of the period was complete without some sort of gaming apparatus. Pinball machines, despite being plagued by stifling regulations and decades of negative public opinion, could be found all over the city. Since 1945, the City of Philadelphia allowed for the ownership of approved “coin-operated mechanical amusement devices,” provided they all possessed an individual tax stamp.
In December 1962, Blue Moon Cafe found itself between the crosshairs of Mortin Rotman, Philadelphia’s revenue commissioner at the time. Rotman believed that operators of gambling machines were defrauding the city of up to $100,000 a year by forgoing the purchase of mandated tax stamps. Mr. Pullman’s taproom would be one of nine locations around the city raided and stripped of their non-compliant pinball machines. The Philadelphia raids were part of a larger and coordinated nationwide effort by Internal Revenue Service agents.
Blue Moon Cafe operated until 1969, when Pullman presumably retired. He sold the property the same year.