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Curly, the funniest member of the classic Three Stooges, was born Jerome L. Horwitz in Brooklyn, the youngest of the large family that produced various Stooge threesomes throughout the 60-year history of the characters. If you look at vintage photos of the Stooges, you'll instantly recognize the big one in the middle. The character is bald, he wears a too-tight suit, is usually being physically abused by one of his brothers, and has a permanent idiotic look on his face. One day, I met Curly Howard face to face and didn't recognize him. Here's how it happened.

As editor of our high school newspaper, I managed to set up an interview with the Three Stooges. They were appearing live at the Earle Theater (since torn down) in downtown Philadelphia in June of 1941. Back in those post-vaudeville days, big city movie theaters, for the price of about a quarter, put on four- or five-hour shows all day long, including live celebrity acts along with first-run films and several short features.

When I called the Earle for an appointment, I deliberately omitted admitting I was a 16-year-old kid editor of a dinky school weekly. I just said I was a reporter for a Philly newspaper, and was told by the Stooges' manager to show up at 5 pm, just before their a two-hour dinner break on a Friday. He said to make it short, because they had two more shows later that night.

It was an 90-degree, typically humid Philly summer afternoon when I arrived at the theater on Market Street near 11th. The marquee was emblazoned with the names of the Stooges, the title of the movie (which I have since forgotten) and the welcome words: "Air Conditioned! Twenty Degrees Cooler Inside!" With pencil and pad in hand, I went around the building to the stage entrance. Once inside, the stale smells and oppressive heat told me the 20 degrees of coolness did not extend to backstage, including the stars' dressing rooms.

As I entered from the blazing sunlight into the dark theater, a husky young man in a neat suit and wearing a gray fedora came through the door just behind me. Blinking and disoriented, I asked him where the Stooges' dressing rooms were. He stopped suddenly, gave a comic double take and said with a laugh, "Rooms? What do you mean rooms, kid? Follow me kid, and I'll show you to our luxury suite."

He seemed vaguely familiar, but I didn't recognize him. Like all kids my age, I was a big fan of the Stooges, and this well-dressed guy looked like a successful young businessman. So, as we made our way through

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