Joel Richardson, Owner of The SunnyBrook Ballroom in Pottstown and Comedy Producer at SoulJoel’s at SunnyBrook, spoke with VISTA Today about his active childhood in Moorestown, N.J., filled with wrestling, soccer, and working as a Swim Coach and Lifeguard.

Richardson discovered his passion for comedy at a George Carlin show during his freshman year of college, and he believes deeply in the power of entertainment to bring people together.

He now owns all 15 acres of The SunnyBrook Ballroom, including SoulJoel’s at SunnyBrook, which he strives to make a welcoming and accessible venue for laughter, community, and free speech.

Where were you born, and where did you grow up, Joel?

I was born in Pittsburgh. All four of my grandparents went to the same high school in Uniontown, about an hour outside of Pittsburgh. It’s a blue-collar coal mining town.

Both my parents are in sales. My dad was in bar coding. He got into technology and computers when they first started, and his company relocated him to South Jersey, right outside Philadelphia, near Cherry Hill. So, I grew up and went to kindergarten through high school in Moorestown.

Where were you in the pecking order?

I’m the oldest, and I have two younger sisters. If you ask my sisters, I’m the third sister.

My middle sister, Deanna, served in our Navy as a Seabee. She was in construction, and I’ve never worked with my hands. So, they say that both of them are tougher than me. But I’d argue that all day.

What do you remember about growing up in Moorestown?

I loved the small-town feel. It’s similar to where I lived in Collegeville, and now in Lower Pottsgrove and Pottstown. I loved that if you want, you can go into Philadelphia or New York or Atlantic City, but you still had that small-town feel while being within striking distance of a metropolitan area.

Did you play any sports while you were growing up?

Yeah. I was very well-rounded. I had my black belt in karate. I played soccer all through high school, and then I ended up wrestling in college and got a scholarship to Wagner on Staten Island.

In karate, they taught us to always finish what you start. That self-discipline paved the way for me to be an entrepreneur, because there’s no one setting the alarm for you or double-checking you or following up.

And there are a lot of similarities between wrestling and stand-up comedy, which is how I got into entertainment. It’s just you onstage; you and the audience.

I majored in business, but Wagner is the number one theater school. I started performing there when I went back to get my master’s.

How did you make that transition from soccer to wrestling?

My great-uncle was the Athletic Director and Soccer Coach at SUNY Oneonta in upstate New York. It’s not far from Cooperstown, where the Baseball Hall of Fame is. I would spend my summers going to soccer camps there, and I fell in love with soccer.

I played midfield until the start of senior year, when I played left outside back. We made the state finals, and right before the first half, it was tied 0-0. We were playing at the College of New Jersey. The girls had always won state championships, and the boys never did.

And my coach goes, “Can you go in and score a goal? Put us up 1-0?” I’m like, “You got it, coach.” Another kid passes the ball, and because we’re playing on AstroTurf, it skips. And I completely whiffed and missed.

Almost 30 years later, I still think about that. We were on local access TV, and my friend took the time to take it from VHS and upload it on YouTube. You can hear me yell, and the announcers are going, “Oh, man.”

Wrestling came in when one of my best friends came to show and tell in third grade with a gold medal for wrestling, and I told my mom, “I want to win one of those next year.” I started in fourth grade, never knowing it would lead to wrestling collegiately.

What about jobs when you were growing up?

It’s funny you mention that. My first job was at Sunnybrook Swim Club — no relation to SunnyBrook Ballroom.

From the time I was a freshman in high school to a freshman in college, I coached swim lessons and then became a lifeguard, not knowing that there was another SunnyBrook in Pottstown.

I felt like everything was meant to be when I came here.

What kind of music floated your boat in high school and college?

I sang choir all four years of high school as my elective. I listened to ’90s grunge and then old-school hip-hop. My first concert was Boyz II Men. Growing up in South Jersey, I just loved that.

My mom always listened to Oldies 98 on our way to church. I know every Elvis song. I love doo-wop and Motown. That’s why, bringing this venue back to life, I enjoy those events. Even though comedy is my first love, I get the most fulfillment out of doing many different events for the community.

When did the comedy bug first bite you?

In college, my freshman-year roommate’s brother got us tickets to George Carlin. It was at the Grand Ole Opry, now called the Ryman, which is a legendary venue. That was my first ever comedy show.

George Carlin killed like he always does. At the end, he’s getting a standing ovation. We’re in the Bible Belt, and he goes, “Before I go, I want to let you know, if there is a God, let him strike me dead with lightning right now.” He waited five seconds, and there’s thousands of people there. A third of the people start walking out, because they’re disgusted. He just got an applause break. He didn’t need to do that. He did that for him. That was my first bug.

Then, that fall, back in New York, my friend and I went on a double date. We’re walking through Greenwich Village, and we stumbled on the Comedy Cellar. It’s basically a gym where all the good comedians in New York go to work out. We end up seeing Wanda Sykes, Lisa Lampanelli, Greg Giraldo — rest in peace — Dave Attell, Louis C.K., and then halfway through, they’re like, “You guys have been a good crowd. Please welcome Chris Rock.”

It’s 1999, so I’m thinking, “Oh my goodness, this is what New York’s all about.” In walks Chris Rock. This is the height of Chris, and I’m like 10 feet away from him. From that point on, I went almost every month to see a comedy show.

I started performing six years after that. I love it. The power of laughter is a tool. No matter what kind of speech you’re making, putting a joke in there makes an instant connection to the audience.

Comics are like modern-day philosophers. Any time people want a quote or opinion, they’ll ask a comedian, because not only are they well-respected, but they’re going to do it in an entertaining fashion.

Why did you choose Wagner College? What other places did you look at?

I’d gotten recruited to wrestle for a couple of schools up in Scranton, including Wilkes University and King’s College, and I also got into North Carolina State. The appeal of Wagner was that it was a small school in New York City, and I figured the connections I could make with the other alumni would help set me up for success post-graduation.

And it felt right when I stepped on campus. It sits up on Grymes Hill. It’s the highest elevated campus on the eastern seaboard, overlooking Manhattan. It still felt like you’re in the middle of Pennsylvania, but you’re in New York City.

Looking back, was Wagner the right choice for you?

Wagner was a great choice. Every choice I’ve made has set me up for this place. Would I do some things differently? Yes. But I’m forever grateful that doors close and some never open. I was meant to be here.

So many people have come up to me at SunnyBrook and said, “Thank you so much for reviving it.” Even the original owner’s granddaughter, Amy Hartenstein, now Amy Daniels, has told me how much it means that I care about carrying on her family’s legacy. In order to run a place like SunnyBrook, you have to understand where it’s been.

Who saw promise in you and opened up doors and helped you get to where you are today?

Both my parents and also my stepdad, who’s been dating my mom since I was in college.

My first Wrestling Coach, Ray Jasper, was the first guy to bring me to Wagner to see it. And he instilled a lot of the hard work and wrestling values. He was teaching me about life. He’s the one who saw promise in me that I never saw.

Then there’s Jack Irving, the director of Saatchi & Saatchi Advertising. I worked there sophomore and junior years of college, because he’s a Wagner alumnus and did internships with Wagner students. He was running a multi-million-dollar company in New York City, and even as an Intern, he would answer my emails, phone calls, and questions to help my professional development.

I worked full eight-hour days there, commuting on the Staten Island Ferry and the subway, next to fully grown adults. I learned a lot from that hands-on experience in the real world.

What are you focused on right here, right now, Joel?

I’m reviving the SunnyBrook Ballroom, and I’ve teamed up with my brother-in-law to add our own restaurant to the site. He’s now the Executive Chef at Gatsby’s Pub.

It’s a lot of time and energy to let people know what we’re doing here. There was magic at our last location, but there’s just as much magic here. It’s a place where Sinatra performed, and Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong. All the people in the community have a memory of this place.

What do you want it to become? Give me your elevator pitch for SunnyBrook Ballroom.

I want this to be a destination. I want it to be the place it was in its heyday. Even in the three short years we’ve been here, we’ve brought in people from over 30 states. And if people are looking for something to do, they can say, “Let’s head down there and get a drink or a bite to eat.”

We have the comedy shows, which we’re known for, but we’re also bringing in Bob Pantano with the oldies dance night. And we have Glenn Miller coming. We’re doing festivals. We have line dancing on Tuesdays. We have bingo twice a month, run by Amy Daniels as part of the Lower Pottsgrove Historical Society. There’s something for everyone.

We have free parking, reasonable ticket prices, and no item minimum. People who are in recovery or don’t drink don’t feel obligated.

We want people to come back several times a month or every week. They’re not breaking the bank to make it their one night out of the year. We want to keep it that way.

And if you’re looking to have a wedding, a prom, a baby shower, or an engagement party, you’re thinking the SunnyBrook Ballroom.

You have a big event coming up at the end of the month, right? What’s that about?

When I was in New York, I created the Staten Island Comedy Festival, which we would host for seven consecutive nights, benefiting seven different charities. What we’re doing now is something I created during the pandemic.

It was initially 16 days in a row, one day for every week we lost during the lockdown. It gave comics something to look forward to, being able to earn money and do a show, and give people laughter. But it also gave the audience members something to look forward to, to laugh and feel normal, and get out of the house. It gave people hope that things were going to get better.

Well, the first five years, this is the sixth year, it’s been named the best summer event in Montgomery County by Montco Happening. This year, we’re doing it from Jul. 31-Aug. 30, with over 50 events in 30 days.

What do you do with all your free time?

I just got engaged! My fiancée is also an entrepreneur. She runs her own family business that her grandfather started in Reading.

We’re getting married on Mar. 7 at SunnyBrook. I’ll go in front of a thousand people and tell jokes, but I was never more nervous than when I asked her father.

Three last questions for you. What’s something big that you’ve changed your mind about over the last 10 years?

Patience. If nothing else, the pandemic gave me patience and perspective on where people might be coming from.

I’m not Ticketmaster. I’m not Live Nation. People don’t realize I’m the one answering the emails and the phone a lot of the time. Things come up, and it’s taught me to put myself in their shoes and empathize.

What keeps you hopeful and optimistic? It’s a crazy world out there.

It is crazy, but I think that, with all this AI and things always changing, people still need entertainment.

When I was producing shows at the Valley Forge Casino, people would come up to my mom or dad or stepdad and say how much they needed the shows and the laughter. And it would turn out this was the first time they came out since they lost their spouse.

Entertainment brings everyone together: I don’t know what you do for a living. I don’t know your politics. I don’t care about your politics. Let’s all meet in the middle and forget that.

On the same day that I have a drag brunch, I’ll have someone from Fox News. I can’t always have an opinion or a certain voice. I have all voices, and I pride myself on being a free speech venue. That’s what I’m hopeful about. On social media, people will go off, and it’s like everybody wants the country to be divided. I want to try to unify it.

Finally, Joel, what’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Always finish what you start. From my Karate Instructor to my Wrestling Coach, they both taught it in different words, but that was what they taught me.