Farewell to Big Mary and her big smile

She ran one of the first topless joints in Tampa, but was also known for charity efforts and kindness to the homeless.

By JAY CRIDLIN
© St. Petersburg Times
published August 30, 2002

TAMPA HEIGHTS -- The heyday of Big Mary's Place is documented in an album of stark black-and-white photographs. Topless go-go dancers. Cross-dressing men posing as go-go dancers. A sea of balloons, liquor, jukeboxes and laughing patrons.

And somewhere in almost every picture is Big Mary herself, presiding over the bar with a big smile on her face.

Mary Reismann, who owned that Franklin Street bar in the early 1970s, died Aug. 19, 2002, at the age of 80.

"She enjoyed people, that's for sure," said her son, Joe DiAmicis. "Real friendly. She wasn't afraid. She was the kind of person that if you didn't have a place to stay, she'd get you one."

Big Mary was a big woman, but the exact origin of her nickname remains a mystery, said her daughter, Virginia Morris.

"She got that up in Pennsylvania," Morris said. "How, exactly, I don't know. All I know is, she was a rough, tough woman."

Mary had spent her life surrounded by tough men. Her father worked for a railroad company, her stepfather was a farmer, and each of her three husbands -- an oil rigger, a truck driver, and a Merchant Marine -- were rough-and-tumble fellows as well.

It only makes sense then, that in her years working in bars in Pennsylvania and Florida, she became as tough as barkeepers come.

"She was very gentle and loving on one side, and on the other side, if somebody was to give her a hard time, she was just like a strong bull," DiAmicis said.

You didn't want to mess with Big Mary, Morris said.

"I have seen that woman tear a black leather jacket off of a man, zipped up," Morris said. "Just tear it right off of him because he got smart."

Big Mary had a knack for meeting people. Working in a bar in Marcus Hook, Pa., she met founding rocker Bill Haley, who lived in Pennsylvania "singing in bars for nickel beers," Morris said. "He used to sing to me," she said.

Big Mary also hobnobbed with several professional baseball players and even, once, Sammy Davis Jr. in Atlantic City.

But her favorite encounter was the most lasting. Frank Reismann was a Merchant Marine whose ship docked near Marcus Hook. The two struck up a relationship and were married in 1951.

Twelve years later, they moved to Tampa, where Big Mary worked in bars all over the city. She kept bumping into celebrities. She met several local wrestlers and Mayor Dick Greco, during his early years in office.

When she opened Big Mary's Place at 1326 Franklin St. -- "Ice cold beers, $1.00" her business cards boasted -- she kept the party going as long as she could. Her burlesque-style shows were some of the first in the city limits to feature topless women, Morris said.

"My mother could tell you a dirty joke every two minutes," she added.

For a while, Big Mary even ran a low-budget carnival, acting as a barker to attract men to its girlie show.

While some of Big Mary's stories can't be shared in print, others reveal how her popularity was based not on lowbrow entertainment, but on a real connection with the common man.

Big Mary did as much as she could for local charities and the downtrodden. She would regularly make sandwiches for the homeless on Tampa's skid row, and on Christmas, would wrap and give them presents.

She worked even harder for mentally retarded children in Hillsborough County. Through a charity drive called "Big Mary's Challenge," she would visit bars around Tampa Bay and convince the owners to put a song called Have a Happy Day on the jukebox. Every time the song was played, a donation was made to MacDonald Training Center, where the mentally retarded were trained for jobs in everyday life.

For her charitable efforts, she was presented with the Good Samaritan Award by the Order of Michael the Arch Angel Police Legion.

She even had a day named in her honor: Sept. 2, 1971, was proclaimed "Big Mary's Day For Retarded Children" by Greco and the city of Tampa.

"She's always been nice to different people," DiAmicis said. "She didn't care about race or color or anything like that. She was just down-home folks."

A wreath sent to the family after Big Mary's death is hanging on Morris' door, with a handwritten note from Dick Greco tucked prominently near the top.

"Big Mary," reads the card. "We love and miss you. With hopes we'll meet again in the afterlife. God bless you. Love, Dick."

Mrs. Reismann was preceded in death by her husband, Frank. Survivors include a daughter, Virginia Morris, of Tampa; and a son, Joseph L. DiAmicis, of Bedias, Texas.

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