![]() |
Houdini: My Grandfather's Friend |
It’s a long story and not necessarily a good one but it is at least filled with half-truths and speculation about real people who did many of the things the story suggests but probably not at the precise moment or with the comedic effect as set forth here. If you happen to be one of those people, sue me.
My father, Thomas Hardy III was a fine man from great heritage. He was the fifth Tom Hardy in a family of mathematically illiterate vaudevillians. I was the sixth in the line of Tom Hardys but in keeping with the family tradition, I dropped the “VI” from my name and went by “Jr.”
Dad was classically-trained in the arts of entertainment through the then dying institution of vaudeville. His mother and father, my Grandparents, were both named “Tom Hardy” – Grandma was named Thoma Bridget Hadley. The name “Thoma” was a family name in the Hadley lineage and was traditionally thought to mean “star dancing” or “star dancer” in Gaelic. It turns out that Thoma actually is a bastardization for “God-Fearing” or “Timothy.” Still, it was as if they were meant to be.
Grandma Tom was a dancer with training in ballet, tap, jazz, ballroom, ballyhoo, strip, burlesque and some classical Irish folk dance. She stopped doing the ballyhoo and strip when she married Grandpa Tom. He didn’t object to the moral implications of the strip act – which by now would seem tame – he objected to her working alone. She was getting shows and engagements without him. He was jealous of her success. He was, as my father said, "Man enough to admit he didn't like being shown up by a skirt." My grandfather had class and would not have likely said "skirt" as a description of a woman or his wife. My dad, on the other hand, would not be as classy; even if it was his own mother.
…
![]() |
Houdini: My Grandfather's Friend |
It’s a long story and not necessarily a good one but it is at least filled with half-truths and speculation about real people who did many of the things the story suggests but probably not at the precise moment or with the comedic effect as set forth here. If you happen to be one of those people, sue me.
My father, Thomas Hardy III was a fine man from great heritage. He was the fifth Tom Hardy in a family of mathematically illiterate vaudevillians. I was the sixth in the line of Tom Hardys but in keeping with the family tradition, I dropped the “VI” from my name and went by “Jr.”
Dad was classically-trained in the arts of entertainment through the then dying institution of vaudeville. His mother and father, my Grandparents, were both named “Tom Hardy” – Grandma was named Thoma Bridget Hadley. The name “Thoma” was a family name in the Hadley lineage and was traditionally thought to mean “star dancing” or “star dancer” in Gaelic. It turns out that Thoma actually is a bastardization for “God-Fearing” or “Timothy.” Still, it was as if they were meant to be.
Grandma Tom was a dancer with training in ballet, tap, jazz, ballroom, ballyhoo, strip, burlesque and some classical Irish folk dance. She stopped doing the ballyhoo and strip when she married Grandpa Tom. He didn’t object to the moral implications of the strip act – which by now would seem tame – he objected to her working alone. She was getting shows and engagements without him. He was jealous of her success. He was, as my father said, "Man enough to admit he didn't like being shown up by a skirt." My grandfather had class and would not have likely said "skirt" as a description of a woman or his wife. My dad, on the other hand, would not be as classy; even if it was his own mother.
Grandpa Tom (or Tom Hardy II) was initially a slapstick comedian and worked the minor circuits until he met his wife. With her dance steps and looks, he remade the act to feature their combined talents. Initially, he did juggling, she did dancing and they made a fair living.
While in Chicago, they saw Harry and Bess Houdini perform at the World’s Fair on the South Side. They were most impressed by the now-classic, Substitution Trunk or as the Houdini’s called it, “Metamorphosis.” Harry would be handcuffed (or “Shackled” as it said in the program), placed into a bag which was then tied and lowered into the wooden shipping trunk. Bess and a committee of five gentlemen from the audience would lock the truck on four sides with previously inspected locks.
Bess would now stand on the trunk and a curtain would be pulled up over the trunk and Bess would announce, “One, Two,” and she would vanish. Houdini would then appear in her place, to intone “Three.” The curtain was immediately dropped, the committee inspected the locks, and opened each with the keys they held. The trunk was opened, the bag untied and Bess was found, shackled as her husband had been.
It was a show-stopper. Grandpa Tom was a young man at the time. He was 26 and his wife was 17. He turned to her and said – according to the Hardy lore – “we’re going to do that but better!”
Thus launched their move from comedy, dance and juggling into magic. Grandpa Tom and Grandma Tom became good friends with the Houdini’s and often met for dinner when their paths crossed. It was Harry Houdini who convinced Grandpa Tom to drop his cocaine habit. Bess Houdini taught Grandma Tom how to fake things a woman should know how to fake. It was a mutually beneficial relationship.
![]() |
My Father, Li'l Tom Hardy Doing School Shows |
When the Houdini’s left for England, Grandma and Grandpa Tom decided to start their own act rather than a deliberate – but authorized – copy of the Houdini’s routine. Grandpa was not that great at escapes. He had thick wrists – a professional liability in the escape-artist cohab. Houdini, on the other hand, had great biceps (as both Bess and Grandma often noted) and massive forearms. Handcuffs latched around his Popeye-like forearms would fall easily over his wrists and allow an easy escape without the need for a pick or hidden key.
So Grandpa had to decide what to do. He asked a gypsy psychic in Maumee, Ohio what he should do and she suggested he buy stock in a company that would soon invent a thing called the “telephone.” Grandpa dismissed the advice because he figured she was a fake and the telephone had already been invented about thirty years earlier. He did take from the encounter a great appreciation for fake psychics.
“Hon,” Grandpa allegedly said one night while returning from a drunken brawl with a stage manager he accused of grabbing his butt while he performed the Metamorphosis, “let’s us, you and me, become something other than what we, you and me – you know – and the like, you and me become mental.”
From that humble and almost endearing – for those readers who are Irish, drunk or can appreciate a fine drunken profundity – statement, the family line went from comedy and dance to mentalism.
They performed what was then called a “mind reading pair.” My grandmother would stand on stage, blindfolded and my grandfather would mingle about the audience with questions for her to answer. Unlike the lesser acts, Grandpa Tom offered no clues in his questions. He didn’t ask, “Oh, Great Thoma, it is time for you to tell us what this gentleman is holding?” to indicate the object was a watch. He would ask the same question each time, “Thoma, what is he holding?” In fact, he would ask it the same way even if the volunteer was a woman. I don’t know why. He did have a drinking problem.
The telepathy act was popular and would often come on the second half of the bill. Before the intermission, they would perform other mentalism effects but saving the coup de resistance for the end. If they had only one slot in the show, they would do the telepathy routine.
Their method was ingenious and there were few that knew the secret. Many claimed they must have real psychic powers – including other magicians hoping to learn the secret. It had been developed with the help of the Houdinis and extensive discussion with the then “Dean of Magicians” Harry Kellar. Houdini hated Kellar. Kellar couldn’t give a rat’s cuss for Houdini but somehow Grandma and Grandpa were able to bridge the relationship to develop an act for which neither Houdini nor Kellar knew the full secret.
Grandpa Hardy used to say, “Keep your friends close and your bankroll in your pants pocket and don't let your friends touch your pants.” He had no problem keeping a secret. His wife could also keep a secret. That could explain why my father looked nothing like Grandpa.
![]() |
The Hardy Magic Studios in Chicago (1994) |
They continued on in their psychic act through 1952. The years grew on the couple and with the close of vaudeville and other local live theater, they had far fewer dates and decided to retire. Unlike many old vaudevillians, they had saved virtually each dollar they made, had invested in a couple of decent stocks such as National Cash Register and AT&T. The moved to Mesa, Arizona in relative comfort and lived out the remainder of their lives entertaining in local theater, schools and retirement homes. In 1961, Grandpa and Grandma were honored at the Abbott’s Magic Get-Together in Colon, Michigan. Grandpa passed on two years later and was buried with all great magicians in Colon, Michigan.
Grandma remarried a sailor from England. He was 22 and she was much older. They had a wonderful time together. He hoped to get her considerable wealth. She hoped to get considerably satisfied with the love of a young man after her money. She out-lived him when he was drowned in a boating accident off the coast of the Isle of Man. She died of a broken heart and cirrhosis of the liver six years later.
Related Posts
Zoom Magic Sought by Inside Magic

We have seen some wonderful Zoom magic shows recently. We realized we only knew about them because friends (we’re not…
Inside Magic Review: David Copperfield’s History of Magic

We have been a fan of David Copperfield since his early days. We anticipated his television specials with the same…