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Performance skaters dazzle on Boathouse Row

The day begins when the man some call "the maestro" picks up his cell phone and sends text messages to about 40 of his followers.

Among the members of the wheeled corps de ballet at Lloyd Hall are Terry Williams (left) and Hacina Saadi. The skaters gather on fair Sunday afternoons at the call of a man they call "the maestro."
Among the members of the wheeled corps de ballet at Lloyd Hall are Terry Williams (left) and Hacina Saadi. The skaters gather on fair Sunday afternoons at the call of a man they call "the maestro."Read moreMICHAEL S. WIRTZ / Staff Photographer

The day begins when the man some call "the maestro" picks up his cell phone and sends text messages to about 40 of his followers.

He's 45-year-old Irvin Williams of Mount Airy, and he's about to determine how the group will spend its Sunday afternoon: to skate, or not to skate, in a small space in front of Lloyd Hall along Boathouse Row.

For at least 10 years, the roller skaters and in-line skaters have been gathering there on Sunday afternoons, attracting fans as they spin, turn, and dance to the R&B with a disco beat that blares from the speakers they bring.

Williams sends the text about 9 a.m. If the weather will allow skating - above 60 degrees and dry - his text is simple:

"We're skating today. Get your roll on."

If it's raining or too cool, the message is also simple: a line of "frown" faces, familiar to e-mailers and texters.

Williams, a fashion designer in New York City, is the leader of the pack because of the weekly Philadelphia classes he runs for skate dancers, because of a video he made showing folks how to do it, because he's the one who brings the music and sound system, and because the skaters clearly look up to him.

When skater Terry Gilmore, 57, of West Philadelphia, a cameraman for 6ABC, was asked about the group, he simply replied, "You have to talk to the maestro."

On Sunday, which was sunny, a dozen or so skaters showed up - a good turnout is 18 or 19, Williams says - even though many had been stuck on I-95 the night before because of an accident. They had been returning home from skating indoors in Princeton when they ran into the traffic jam.

Gilmore didn't get to bed until 4:30 a.m., he said, but the lure of the asphalt on a beautiful day was too great. He showed up a little later than usual, at 1:30 p.m.; normally the skaters arrive about 1 and stay until 6, sometimes later in summer.

Nada Burgess, 53, regularly drives to Lloyd Hall from Pleasantville, N.J. - about an hour each way - "because it's fun and it's free," she said.

"It's a passion," said Burgess, director of knitwear technical operations for a New York designer. "You interpret the music through dancing."

She sees many of the same spectators each Sunday, she said. Does that mean the skaters have fans?

"Probably. Some people are watching you. But I'm not watching them."

What fans see is a choreographed set of moves with plenty of freelancing thrown in.

Some of the moves have names, often for the person who invented them. On Sunday, skater Hacina Saadi, 29, a Center City maitre d', was doing a kind of smooth shuffle called the Eileen.

She was modest about her accomplishment: "Eileen is kind of basic."

"Skating is a great workout," said Saadi, who has been skating for six years. "When you start skating, you want to do more."

Saadi showed off with a horizontal, close-to-the-ground move called Burn-it and, later, Jailhouse. Picture somebody with skates on the ground, bent over backward, hands behind her, feet moving. Break dancing on wheels.

Later, Williams tried a move that he had not done for a while, with another skater, Toni Florencio. He lifted her over his head, almost like a cheerleader, and spun around. Florencio called it a butterfly movement.

She's originally from Spain, and was captivated by the 1980 story of young entertainers in the movie Fame.

"We wanted to be a group like that," Florencio said.

Her own fame now is as an investment counselor, a belly dancer, and, yes, a skater who dances on a small patch of asphalt along Kelly Drive.

At the end of a five- or six-hour session, what hurts?

"Knees, thighs, and sometimes, when the asphalt is hot, your feet," Gilmore said.

As autumn deepens, the days of outdoor skating are numbered. Below 60 degrees means bulky clothing, and that's just not the way the skaters at Lloyd Hall want to do it.

They want to get their roll on, the right way.