When Mel Greenberg Came To Town

50 Years Ago, Con Artist Convinced Hundreds They Were Headed To Stardom

In the June 5, 1974, edition of The News-Gazette, a block ad appeared on page 4 purportedly placed by Universal International Studios.

“Do you have any talent?” the copy read. “We will be interviewing men and women for various parts in a film to be produced in the Lexington area shortly.”

Actors, dancers, horseback riders, models, etc., were all being sought for this yet unnamed picture. The contact for interviews was Mel Greenberg at the Keydet- General Motel.

Thus began the saga of a man whose delusions of grandeur led hundreds of area hopefuls into believing that they were going to be in a musical comedy for the big screen about the American Civil War.

“When Mel Greenberg arrived in town alone and unescorted last week, the greening of Lexington’s summer began,” read the introduction of a front-page story in The News-Gazette about the flim-flam man whose film was a fake.

Greenberg arrived in town on Monday, June 3, 1974, and checked into the Econo-Travel Motel north of Lexington on Lee Highway. His first duty was contacting realtor Max Douty about renting a farm for the setting of the film. Greenberg told Douty that he was from Universal International Studios in Beverly Hills and he was seeking a location for a movie musical called “The Southern Past.”

After being shown several properties, Greenberg chose the 700-acre Pete Whitlock farm. Nothing was ever signed regarding real estate. Greenberg said that his “legal men” would negotiate terms.

One June 4, Greenberg booked a two nights’ stay at Keydet-General on U.S. 60 West and then reserved 40 rooms for three weeks beginning June 27. He hired two local women – Sandy Ferguson and Mrs. John Harer – to be his secretaries.

Once the word spread that a Hollywood bigshot was in town looking for individuals to be in a movie, people from all walks of life flocked to room 39 at the Keydet-General where Greenberg held his auditions. All told, more than 500 people turned out for auditions.

One of the hundred who auditioned was Douglas Schwartz, a recent graduate of the Washington and Lee University School of Law, who was still in town studying for the bar exam. Obtaining a part as an extra in the movie meant earning $22 and hour, and Schwatz had bills to pay and an upcoming trip to Greece to finance.

Had the internet existed at the time, a quick Google search would have revealed that regular extras at the time were paid $45 a day and “special duty” extras – that is, a background actor who performs a special skill on camera – received $55 a day.

Though Schwartz was one of the many with dreams of stardom and the hefty bank accounts that come with it, he also had his feet planted on firm ground. His suspicions were raised when Greenberg said that Burt Lancaster, Phil Silvers, Kirk Douglas and Audrey Hepburn had all been cast in lead roles. Schwartz had recently read that Hepburn vowed to never make a movie in the United States again.

It seemed suspicious, too, that Greenberg was seeing some women in the nude who were auditioning for a love scene in the movie more than once. The woman with the best bosom would be paid $12,000 to bare her breasts for the camera. All that was required was a 26” bustline.

Thursday of that week, Schwartz called Actors Equity and was referred to the Screen Actors’ Guild in Berkley, Calif. He was told by the vice president of the guild that Universal International Studios did not exist and there were no contracts on record for the stars Greenberg said had signed on to be in the movie.

Convinced that Greenberg’s film was a phoney, Schwartz contacted Rockbridge Commonwealth’s Attorney Eric Sisler to do a background check on him.

There were other skeptics among those with parts in the movie. Lucy Songer reached out to her sister who lived in California and asked her to visit Universal International Studios. Stonger’s sister found a parking lot at the address of the studios.

Even with Sisler on his tail, Greenberg remained unfazed until Sisler traced the license plate on Greenberg’s car to a massage parlor in Pasadena.

At a Monday morning meeting with Sisler, Greenberg was told to quit asking women to disrobe for their interviews. But with Greenberg’s ruse exposed, there was no reason for him to stay in town. Later that morning he called the motel from Roanoke and gave permission for his secretaries to access Room 39 to take care of interviews. He said he would be back by 2 p.m. He never returned. The general manager, accompanied by Sisler, found his room as empty as his promises.

While a guest at the motel, Greenberg wrote two separate checks totally $180. The checks were written on an account that had been closed due to overdrafts.

Turns out, Lexington was not the only victim of Greenberg’s larceny. Greenberg was wanted in New York, Florida, and Texas for passing rubber checks.

Further Adventures Of Mel Greenberg The denizens of Hillsboro, Ohio, became Greenberg’s next prey. This time he was searching for background actors for a movie starring Rock Hudson and asking interested extras to pay $15 up front for union fees. On Friday, June 14, he was served by Ohio police with a warrant for his arrest on the charges of cashing a worthless check at the Keydet- General and defrauding an innkeeper. He was taken to the Highland County jail and held on a $15,000 bond awaiting extradition to Rockbridge County.

Despite his shenanigans, there were no hard feelings at the motel. Locals waiting to audition ordered food from the motel’s restaurant resulting in a 35% improvement in sales.

Those in the community who had been bamboozled by the cunning conman seemed to view what had happened as a teachable moment. Some local students assembled a “Free Mel Greenberg” committee and printed bumper stickers in mock support of the wily swindler.

The story caught the interest of several national news outlets. The News-Gazette received calls from the Washington bureau of Newsweek (see sidebar), the Philadelphia Bulletin, United Press International, and Harpers’ Magazine.

The Greenberg saga left at least one youth in town a bit jaded. When approached by a Newsweek reporter at the Farmer’s Co-op, a young man replied, “How do I know you’re really from Newsweek? I don’t believe anybody anymore.” -Whatever happened to Mel Greenburg is unclear. He seemingly vanished, and even with today’s internet technology, his life after 1974 can’t be found.

He would live on, however, in local lore. He was the subject of a musical comedy called “Free Mel Greenberg” that was performed in Virginia, Ohio, New York and West Virginia, and the VMI Community Theater included him in two versions of its “Heroes, Hustlers, Schemers, & Scamps: Curious Characters from Rockbridge County History.”

He even earned his own paver in the “Righteous and Rascals of Rockbridge” program in the streets of downtown Lexington. His reads, “Mel Greenberg, Confidence Man, Hoodwinked Locals, Lexington 1974.”