Story Details

This 1993 New Yorker article profiles Abe Green, a man who spent over four decades as a fixture at the Beverly Hills Hotel pool. Green, a self-made millionaire, established a daily ritual of holding court poolside, becoming a peculiar part of the hotel's landscape. The piece explores Green's evolving relationship with the hotel, from his early days as a welcomed guest to his later years marked by increasing eccentricity and strained relations with management. It paints a portrait of a man seeking community and purpose in a glamorous yet ultimately transient environment, capturing a specific era of Hollywood history and the changing dynamics of the legendary hotel.

Within the hallowed, sun-drenched confines of the Beverly Hills Hotel, nestled amidst the opulence and glamour of Los Angeles, resided a figure of quiet, almost mythical, constancy: Mr. Abe Green. For an astonishing span of forty-two years, from 1951 to 1993, Mr. Green, a man of modest means and unassuming demeanor, made the hotel's shimmering turquoise pool, aptly nicknamed the "Banana Leaf Pool" due to its distinctive banana-leaf-shaped design, his personal sanctuary. This meticulously crafted narrative, penned by the astute observer Roger Angell for The New Yorker in 1993, paints a richly detailed portrait of not only Mr. Green's singular dedication to this aquatic haven but also the changing landscape of the hotel and the broader cultural currents swirling around it.

Angell meticulously reconstructs Green’s daily ritual, a carefully orchestrated symphony of poolside existence. From his punctual arrival, always precisely at noon, to his meticulous selection of a poolside chaise longue, preferably number 4, Green's presence was a fixed point in the ever-shifting tableau of hotel life. He would meticulously arrange his belongings – newspapers, magazines, a radio tuned to ball games – creating a small, personal fiefdom within the larger kingdom of leisure. He would bask in the California sun, occasionally dipping into the refreshing waters, and engage in polite, often whimsical, conversations with fellow poolside denizens, a collection of characters as diverse and colorful as the bougainvillea cascading over the cabana walls.

The article also delves into the subtle transformations the Beverly Hills Hotel underwent during Green’s extended tenure. From the era of old Hollywood glamour, with its parade of movie stars and moguls, to the arrival of the jet set and the subsequent waves of international tourists, the hotel remained a stage upon which the dramas and comedies of human interaction played out. Green, a steadfast observer of these evolving scenes, became a living embodiment of the hotel's enduring allure, a testament to its capacity to provide solace and a sense of belonging.

Furthermore, Angell explores the intriguing question of what drew Green to this particular oasis with such unwavering devotion. Was it the escapism offered by the shimmering water and the warm sun? Was it the comforting routine and the familiar faces? Or was it something more profound, a search for connection and community in the heart of a city often associated with fleeting fame and superficiality? The article doesn't offer definitive answers, but instead invites the reader to ponder the mysteries of human motivation and the enduring search for a place to call one's own, even within the ephemeral world of a luxury hotel. In the end, Mr. Green's story becomes a poignant meditation on the nature of time, place, and the unexpected comforts found in the most unlikely of locations.