All I know about this guy is what I learned watching a Bugs Bunny cartoon. I never gave him much thought until I came across the term “Brody”, meaning a leap to one’s death.
I did a search and the most informative thing I found was this on one of those “This Day in History” sites:
Well, that’s helpful.
So, did Steve Brody actually exist and if so did he, indeed, jump off the Brooklyn Bridge? Why? A broken heart? Gambling debts? Needed a bath? (I’m assuming it wasn’t a rabbit that drove him to it.)
No one really knows if he jumped or not (it may have been faked), but he became a huge media celeb in the late 19th century, and “doing a Brody” was slang for jumping from a great height. Brody himself became a bartender and local character in later years.
Now, can anyone tell me what “Frankie Baileys” are? Hmmmm?
It’s the one where Steve Brody, an unlucky gambler, makes his way to the wilds of Flatbush to secure a rabbit’s foot. Bugs, not wishing to part with any of his limbs, poses as a soothsayer and instructs Steve on how to win at cards, slots, dice, love, etc. Being the smartass he is, Bugs makes sure Steve fails at every endevour by a series of disguises. After attempting to woo Bugs in drag, Steve finally figures it all out and concludes that he has lost his mind, thus causing him to throw himself off the Brooklyn Bridge. The cartoon concludes with Bugs relating this story to a naive out-of-towner touring the bridge. The impressed tourist pulls out a wad of cash and replies, “I’ll take it!”
The toon is “Bowery Bugs” (1949), directed by Arthur Davis (one of the lesser known WB directors). Billy Bletcher (aka the Mayor of the Munchkin City) was the voice of Brody. Story by Bill Scott (who later went on to provide the voice of Bullwinkle J. Moose).
Great line–
Bugs: When was you born?
Brody: I don’t know; I was pretty young at the time.
Hmmm . . . No takers on “Frankie Bailey,” huh? Well, OK, I’ll give. She was a famous chorus girl in the 1890–1910 period, whose legs were so shapely that for years, great gams were called “Frankie Baileys.” Then along came Betty Grable and Marlene Dietrich, and poor Frankie was forgotten.