One my earliest memories was going there with my mother and Aunt as a very young child. We sat in the first row of the balcony where they could smoke,to see “Lili”(?) with Leslie Carone. I remember it was a carnival flim where in the end as she was walking down a counrty lane,the hand puppets from earlier scences became life size apparations that walked along with her and sang. Scared me silly.We went to the Horn & Harnet next door and I got to put the nickels in the pie machine as a treat. When I got older I would go to Saturday
double feature matinees without parents where we had to sit in the Childrens section the far right front area of the orchestra. The matron sat in the last row of that section made us keep our feet off the back of the chairs and had the power to eject us if we misbehaved. It was a beautiful theater.
At the age of ten I saw William Castle’s “Mr Sardonicus” at this theater. Near the end of the film, the lights came up and Mr. Castle walked out onto the stage. He asked the Saturday matinee crowd of screaming kid’s to hold our glow in the dark thumb cards up or down to decide the fate of the villain.
Mr Sardonicus died.
Mr. Castle signed autographs on the thumb cards in the lobby afterward.
I wish I still had mine.
He was a ten year old’s Hitchcock.
One my earliest memories was going there with my mother and Aunt as a very young child. We sat in the first row of the balcony where they could smoke,to see “Lili”(?) with Leslie Carone. I remember it was a carnival flim where in the end as she was walking down a counrty lane,the hand puppets from earlier scences became life size apparations that walked along with her and sang. Scared me silly.We went to the Horn & Harnet next door and I got to put the nickels in the pie machine as a treat. When I got older I would go to Saturday
double feature matinees without parents where we had to sit in the Childrens section the far right front area of the orchestra. The matron sat in the last row of that section made us keep our feet off the back of the chairs and had the power to eject us if we misbehaved. It was a beautiful theater.
At the age of ten I saw William Castle’s “Mr Sardonicus” at this theater. Near the end of the film, the lights came up and Mr. Castle walked out onto the stage. He asked the Saturday matinee crowd of screaming kid’s to hold our glow in the dark thumb cards up or down to decide the fate of the villain.
Mr Sardonicus died.
Mr. Castle signed autographs on the thumb cards in the lobby afterward.
I wish I still had mine.
He was a ten year old’s Hitchcock.