From the US Marines to a 1977 New York City Disco
It was a cool summer evening in New York City in 1977, as Steve West, twenty-one years old and fresh out of the US Marines, stood in front of the lavish Stardust Disco in his black silk suit, burgundy silk shirt, burgundy shoes, and matching belt. Steve was feeling good. As he moved to the front of the line, his shiny wardrobe and jewelry meshed with the illuminating night. The large bouncer from the Stardust Disco opened the gold and red velvet chain. He nodded to the former marine with respect, as if he knew Steve. Then the two big guys slapped each other five with a loud thud, which made it seem like the whole sidewalk shook. The crowd in line watched the imposing sight of these two big men pulling in for a bear hug. One was Italian-American, the other a Hungarian-American. They were both born and raised in the streets of the Bronx.
Steve knew Nick from the Italian section of Arthur Avenue. On the other hand, Steve grew up in the Latin and African-American neighborhood of the Bronx, near Fordham Road. The men crossed paths many times on the basketball courts and the city streets. They got close through the years. Nick was one of the few Italian friends Steve had as a teen growing up.
“That’s right, my Italian brother, show me some love,” Steve exclaimed. “So what’s up, goomba?”
“All’s good on this end,” Nick answered. “Hey Steve, what’s going on with you, big guy? Are you finished with the Marine Corps?”
“Yeah, Nick, I was discharged a few months ago—honorably. I did what I had to do in the corps, my brother. You know the drill. What’s shaking, any fine honeys in the club tonight?”
“Are you kidding? Steve on a Saturday night in New York City? Go ahead son and take a sneak peek for yourself. They’re all fine,” he laughed. “Now that I think about it, a few of the honeys inside were asking about you this past year.”
Nick waved his right hand back and forth in an Italian gesture and laughed. “Fuhgeddaboudit. They remember that dance show you put on with that sweet Latin honey to Van McCoy’s Do the Hustle last year when you came home. Do you still have the moves and grooves, Ghost?” Nick asked. He knew Steve’s street name from the basketball courts when they were teens.
“What do you think, Nick?”
Steve took four quick steps back like a tap dancer, and then he did a few side-step moves one way, then the other, while snapping his fingers to the beat of his footsteps. He ended with a double 360-degree turn, and as he did, he pulled up his collar on his black suit jacket in a smooth and cool way at the end of the turn. The crowd watched and grooved on Steve doing the do.
“Yeah, you still got it, baby. Smooth as silk.” Nick’s fist bumped with Steve. “Go ahead in and show those fine honeys where you live at dude. Anybody gives you a problem—you know the boys and I have your back, jarhead—especially a marine from Da Bronx.” Both men nodded at each other. Then they clasped hands, pulled them apart with a snapping sound and put their fists over their hearts showing a sign of love and respect.
Steve moved toward the ticket window and reached for his wad of bills, which he accumulated while in the Marines. Meanwhile, Nick stopped checking identification cards and looked over toward the ticket window. He closed the gold and red velvet chain to stop the crowd from entering. Then he nodded to the other burly bouncer to keep a lookout. Nick walked over to Steve and put his hand over Steve’s hand as he was giving his money to the ticket lady.
“Hey, my Hungarian-Goomba, you don’t pay here. Welcome home, marine!”
The pretty ticket lady smiled at Steve. Then Nick put his hand on Steve’s shoulder and prodded him toward the lavish double doors, which led into the Stardust Disco. Steve nodded and entered the new, electrifying, colorfully lit disco. A popular song called Give Me Love by Cerrone was playing, one of Steve’s favorites. Everyone was boogying to the beat.
Steve smelled sweet perfume in the air. He walked over to the staircase at the top of the dance floor and peered down toward the people dancing. Then he looked over at the bar as he snapped his fingers to the beat of the music. He discreetly checked out all the fine ladies, careful not to be too obvious. I have to be cool, he told himself and laughed.
Steve was six-feet, two-inches tall, a well-built and good-looking blue-eyed dude with dirty blond hair combed back in the style of the day.
At the top of the stairs where he stood, two gold banisters curved like an “S” on each side of him. They swerved down to the large dance floor. As he looked down, he noticed that there were honeys galore dancing the night away to Give Me Love.
Who cares about the dudes? he snickered to himself. As he stood there, reflections of red, white, and blue disco lights shined on him. A few guys who were hanging out by the dance floor with their ladies looked up at the big dude. They nodded to Steve in approval. He nodded back in his macho way then surveyed the honeys and the dance floor again.
Steve put his hand in his suit jacket, grabbed a piece of gum and eased it into his mouth. He made a conscious effort to make every move he made smooth. That’s how his boys and lady friends in the Bronx schooled him when he was a teen. You acted smooth and looked, but never stared, at the ladies.
“This way, we’re intrigued. And besides, we love the mystery of it all.” He remembered an old girlfriend, Stacey, used to say that.
Steve looked around again. Just play the game baby, you need to make them want you, stud, he laughed to himself.
He thought of his boys, Juan and Eduardo, from the Bronx, who were raised the same way. They were smooth players back in the day, and still are. He would be connecting with them very soon, especially now that he was out of the Marines and no longer married. They were his street brothers for life. After all, they went through together in the streets while growing up, he would go to battle with them anytime.
Meanwhile, the Latin DJ in the booth, who was another close friend of Steve’s, saw people looking over at the marine at the top of the stairs. The DJ laughed.
“Yo, Kate, check out who’s here. My brother from Da Bronx, Ghost!” He pointed over at Steve. “It’s been awhile for homeboy. He just got out of the Marines a few months back. Check him out. He’s dressed to kill with his GQ style.”
“Yeah, TJ, and my honey-girls are scoping on him big time.” She laughed. “He always dresses so nice….”
“Check this out babe. I have the perfect song.”
TJ put on a song by Sister Sledge called He’s The Greatest Dancer.
Steve’s feet started moving as he snapped his fingers to the smooth beat of the song. He looked up at the DJ booth and could see DJ-TJ fixing his headphones and smiling down at him. The DJ put his fist up in acknowledgement of Steve. Kate, his girl, who was a gorgeous brunette, waved at Steve from the booth, too. Steve gave them the fist-to-heart sign back.
Intrigued, some of the crowd looked at the DJ booth and then back across the dance floor, toward the tall dancer at the top of the stairs.
The DJ continued to play the smooth beat of the song.
A few of the honeys at the top of the stairs sipped their drinks. Then, one lady walked past Steve to get his attention.
As she passed him, she gave him a big smile. Her long blonde hair swayed left to right as a nice perfumed scent lingered in the air, which came directly toward Steve. Hmmm, he thought.
He discreetly checked out her fine rear end; her whole body seemed to sway from side to side. He didn’t want the other ladies to see him staring, so he went back to his smooth ways.
Cool, it’s going to be a good night tonight, Ghost. Ha-ha.
He gently brushed his hair back. Then, the blonde came toward him again from the other direction as Sister Sledge continued to sing He’s the Greatest Dancer. This time, Steve put his hand out and as she passed, he convinced her to dance the Hustle with him. He led her down to the dance floor, to the middle of the song.
She danced great as Steve led her into turn after turn. They did a few crisscross moves, and she followed him accordingly. Then the DJ played a smooth disco song called I Found Love Now That I Found You sang by Love and Kisses,
and the couple continued dancing as if they had danced together many times before. When the record was over, she smiled and thanked Steve.
“What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Millie. And yours, handsome?”
“Steve. I must say you’re a good dancer. I like your style.”
She smiled. “You’re pretty good yourself there, buddy.”
Millie looked up at her girlfriends.
Steve watched as she acknowledged them.
He touched her shoulder gently.
“I tell you what, sweetie, save another dance for me because I definitely want to dance with you again.”
She pushed her hair back, revealing gold hoop earrings and smiled again. Steve watched her go back to her lady friends who were nearby. I’ll get back to her, he laughed to himself.
The DJ of this chic Manhattan club danced with his lady, Kate, in the booth and the crowd roared. Then he looked at the clock and saw it was just a few minutes past midnight.
“Honey, check this out… Steve just came in here like some kind of marine-Cinderella at the stroke of midnight. I got something else in store for him.”
TJ reached for another album and put it on carefully, mixing it in with the beat of the previous record. He got ready to shout into the Microphone.
“What are you doing, TJ? Don’t embarrass him.” She laughed at him, knowing he was loud and liked to have fun. He was going to bust his boy’s horns.
“Yo, everyone! Da Ghost from Da Bronx is in the house. Steve just came back from the Marines. Let’s give it up for him.”
“Woo, woo, woo,” he shouted like a German Shepherd dog. The bouncers who knew Steve barked back in the same manner from different parts of the club, like marines echoing in the night, just before an invasion.
Most of the crowd didn’t know him, but some of the ladies remembered him from last year’s Hustle contest. Then, the crowd started cheering and hooting anyway because they would use any excuse to get loud and party! A new song came on in perfect timing. It was Carol Douglas singing Midnight Love Affair.
The DJ laughed. “Let’s see what Steve does with this….”
“Cool record for just past midnight sweetie….” Kate smiled, knowing he was mischievous with his style of music. She leaned over and gave him a kiss.
They saw Steve make his way down to the dance floor, snapping his fingers to the beat as some of the crowd had their eyes on him, too. They were waiting to see what he was going to do next. This is one of the reasons why people came out to the discos. They came out to see a good DJ play a new song to get the crowd going or artists perform their new disco songs. In addition, they would see a dance show from various couples doing the Hustle or an individual doing Freestyle or a break dance. Everyone watched for something new and exciting on the dance floor. Steve was in this place and space before, but it was in the Latin and Soul clubs in the city streets.
After the Marines, he transformed his dancing style to this new beat called Disco. He also liked a new sound called Salsoul, which was a combination of Latin and Soul music intertwined into a smooth disco beat. Salsoul Records paved the way for this type of music while Casablanca Records led the way for disco.
Steve learned about music as a child from his mom who was a cabaret singer and his dad who worked around musicians at the world famous Latin Quarter Nightclub.
Besides dancing, Steve also played the trumpet in Soul and Salsa bands in the ‘hood at house parties or in urban clubs, as a teen. He was good enough to make it in the Bronx Junior Symphony Orchestra as a horn player. The dancing and the horn playing was how he learned to move and groove to the beat of the city streets. When he left the Marines, he didn’t play the horn as much, but he did continue with his first love: dancing.
He didn’t know how they did it in other boroughs of New York or, for that matter, other cities around the world, but he was going to step up to the plate tonight “Bronx Style.”
Steve looked on the floor, where two fine honeys were dancing the Hustle. He caught their attention and as they danced, they gave him a big shit-eating grin. He moved closer to them. Then he waited a moment and looked in both of their disco-lit eyes to make sure they approved of him. He waited for the signal…they smiled again! On cue, he moved toward them to the rhythm of the beat. He stepped one, two, three, in-between both of them, timing it perfectly, as he grabbed their hands
and pushed them gently outward as they turned in the same direction to the midnight song.
As the ladies turned outward, they looked like spinning tops. Then Steve pulled them both inward. The ladies looked smooth while they moved and grooved to the beat of Midnight Love Affair. The three dancers sidestepped one way and then the other to the four-to-the-floor beat, all of them keeping in step.
“Ready ladies?” They nodded.
He stepped between them again and turned them gracefully in opposite directions, like two disco-lit stars, as Carol Douglas sang her sweet disco tune. Then Steve let go of one lady, and she danced Freestyle. Steve grabbed the other lady and the couple did some fancy Hustle steps. He let go of her, turned, and did the same with the other lady. Steve looked around, and all the couples on the floor seemed to be moving in the same motion: to the beat of the city streets. Then the ladies danced Freestyle around Steve. He did his own Freestyle dance, too, keeping in step with them as the honeys smiled and circled around him.
Steve laughed, “Whatever’s real for you ladies.”
He remembered practicing some of these moves with his Bronx boy Manuel, who was now a professional Hustle and freestyle dancer on VH1 TV.
The ladies kept singing to “Midnight Love Affair” as they continued to dance around him with mischievous grins. Steve put his hands out toward the ladies. Once they clasped hands, he pulled them in and pushed them out again. Then he led the ladies to where he wanted them to dance, the three of them keeping in step to the beat while sidestepping and doing crossovers around the dance floor. People moved aside, as if a waterfall was opening while the three dancers split the crowd in half.
Steve kept stepping in the middle of the ladies while crossing them over, turning them this way and that way to the smooth disco beat. He thought to himself, Yeah, Ghost, just like the old days and dancing in the ‘hood… I knew Disco was going to get big, but not this big! As the record ended, he pulled both ladies toward him. They came in closer than he expected, and purposely rubbed their smooth bodies on him, each swaying from side to side like exotic kittens.
The ladies both thanked him and gave him a kiss on his cheek, as he felt their breasts digging into his chest. Steve looked back and forth into both of their disco-lit eyes again. He was sweating and catching his breath.
“Damn, you ladies are fine!” said Steve.
They pulled Steve off the dance floor and walked him to the bar. They grabbed a napkin and wiped the sweat off his face.
“I got this,” Jenny said and smiled.
“Nah, girl, I got this,” Sonia quipped back.
Both women laughed.
“I tell you what, ladies,” Steve snickered. “The two of you are great dancers, so how about if I buy you both a drink? Then, we can step out on the dance floor again. I like the way you ladies move and groove to the beat.”
They both smiled at Steve.
Jenny touched his bicep and squeezed it.
“Anything you say, big guy.”
Sonia put her hand on his muscular shoulder and leaned on him. “I’m sticking with you blue eyes.”
Steve laughed and signaled to the female bartender, who danced her way over to Steve and the ladies in her black spandex outfit. Steve looked at the fine bartender and the two fine women standing by his side while all the ladies looked at him.
“Damn, I must be in female heaven or something,” Steve said.
They all started laughing.
“What will you have, sweetie?” the bartender asked.
“Take care of the honeys first,” replied Steve.
“I’ll have a Long Island Ice Tea,” Jenny said, smiling.
Sonia touched her temple with her index finger and thought for a moment. “I got it—I’ll have a piña colada.”
Yeah, and I’ll take Miss Long Island Ice Tea to the shore and Miss Piña Colada to the Bahamas for some fun in the sun, Steve thought to himself.
“What about you, handsome?” The barmaid brushed back her long black hair, revealing diamond earrings.
“I’ll have a Manhattan with two cherries.”
The bartender smiled and went to make the drinks.
Then the ladies excused themselves and went to the ladies’ room. Steve surveyed the club. This is a far cry from the ‘hood.
***
Steve remembered when they found his dad in the apartment, dead and alone for two days, while he was married and home on leave, living in the Bronx. A family friend called him up and said that the police needed him to identify his father. Lester was a WWII American and Hungarian war hero, who was the only survivor of a holocaust family. He raised Steve up in the streets of the Bronx and dedicated his life to give his son a better chance than he or his family who were killed during the war in Europe, ever had.
Although Steve was at the disco, images of his father, who raised him as a single parent, flashed back. Then he thought of his first love and high school sweetheart, Julia, and the days with his boys, Eduardo, Juan, Javier, and the others. He also thought of how he survived a different kind of war in the streets. He felt a tear coming, as he knew that his father deserved a better fate than dying alone. He remembered how his dad struggled to come to his boot camp graduation, but despite a bad heart, he still managed to see his young son graduate as a proud, young warrior.
Steve’s goal was to carry the family name and torch on. Lester led the way for his son. He was a man of honor and dignity, who taught his son well. Steve silently said a prayer to him, Thanks, Pops, for sacrificing so much for me and teaching me. I will make you proud of me one day.
He remembered saying this prayer as they pulled the drawer open at the morgue to identify his father. Steve grabbed his father’s hand firmly and made his promise. After he prayed to and for his father, Steve remembered walking outside into the sunlight, trying to draw energy from it.
He thought for a moment while looking at the bright sun. Where the Father dies, the son draws energy and lives.
***
Steve took a sip of his Manhattan and brought his mind back to the disco. Jenny and Sonia came back from the ladies’ room, smiling and swaying to the music. The DJ grabbed another vinyl record and put on I Feel Love by Donna Summer.
The ladies stood in front of Steve, grabbed their drinks, and danced around him, enticing him again, singing I Feel Love, I Feel Love, I Feel Love. Steve fed the ladies the two cherries from the Manhattan, and they all laughed. Yes, a long way from the past and the streets of the Bronx. He toasted to the fine ladies who were now pulling him back onto the dance floor. And in silence, he made another toast to his father in heaven, for giving him an opportunity to live a good life. Thanks, Pops!
I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1 of my book, Disco Nights—a heartfelt donation to the Disco Hall of Fame. Chapter 2 drops this October. (That is, if there’s interest in what I’m trying to do here.) If you liked what you read, please click the “Like” button below—it’s the only way I’ll know. Your support means everything.
Coming up next: Chapter 2 — Wall Street Dancer Meets Millie the Hustle Dancer
Chapter 1 was about rhythm, memory, and a quiet toast to the past. Chapter 2? It’s about fate, footwork, and a second chance.” Remember that blonde-haired lady (Millie) I met and lost in the Starlight Disco—the one I was supposed to dance with again? Well, fate had other plans. I ran into her by accident… at work… on Wall Street. I think you’ll enjoy this fun chapter too. This will never be a movie—but that’s not the point. What I’m trying to do is bring Disco Nights to life the way it was always meant to be: as an interactive blog experience, written from the heart 15 years ago. And this year marks the 15th anniversary of Disco Nights (2010–2025).
NOTE: All embedded YouTube videos are included under YouTube’s sharing guidelines, and AI-generated images are used to visually enhance the storytelling experience. If you enjoy the music featured in this story, please consider purchasing the tracks from your favorite retailer to support the original artists. This project is crafted with care, and I deeply respect the creators and platforms that help bring it to life.
I’ve disabled comments due to spam, but if you enjoyed Chapter 1, once again, please hit the “Like” button below—it’s the best way to let me know you’re feeling the groove. If you’d like to share your thoughts or support the project further, feel free to send an email by visiting www.discohof.com and clicking the Contact button in the upper right corner of the homepage. (I’m not posting a direct link here to avoid spam bots.) Your feedback means a lot—and it helps keep the rhythm alive. Thanks again and keep on dancing! It’s good for the mind, body, and soul!