Gustavelifting:
Thanks for the information on the Loew’s Kings. I went there with my old man to watch Police Athletic League (PAL)fights on stage. I also used to box in a backyard near the Granada and once or twice at the Flatbush Boys Club. I think it’s great that someone is working to restore one of the old neighborhood theaters but I probably have little to add to his effort. I am still interested in that Granada water tower, if anyone has any information. Best, Skonnert.
We lived a half-block from the Granada on Church Avenue in the 1930s and 1940s. The grey-haired matron at that time was Mrs. Paramour, or Paramore. I started going to the movies there even before I started kindergarten at P.S. 246 and the matron assured my folks that she would look after me. She was also active in the Republican Club located a block or two away, near Bedford Avenue, and after we entered World War II, Mrs. Paramour marched me and others up to the club to join patriotic sing-alongs of “Praise The Lord and Pass The Ammunition,” and other anthems. Neighborhood kids — Fayers, Cahills, Latanzas, Tompkins, Ornsteins — also played softball in the lot adjacent to the theater, breaking an occasional window when a long ball cleared the fence and headed toward Martense Street. The bravest among us also climbed the high tower at the back of the Granada building, going up the ladder to the water tank. It would be much appreciated if someone could tell me if that tower and water tank still exist now that the building is a Rite Aid drugstore. (I need the information for a story I am writing.) Moviegoing at the Granada actually ruined my life. I could have been a doctor, or a great violinist, or who knows what. Instead, after hanging out at the Granada as a kid, I spent my working years as a writer in television and film, and only recently retired to try writing fiction, a lot of it about the old days in Brooklyn. — (signed) Skonnert.
We lived a half-block from the Granada on Church Avenue in the 1930s and 1940s. The grey-haired matron at that time was Mrs. Paramour, or Paramore. I started going to the movies there even before I started kindergarten at P.S. 246 and the matron assured my folks that she would look after me. She was also active in the Republican Club located a block or two away, near Bedford Avenue, and after we entered World War II, Mrs. Paramour marched me and others up to the club to join patriotic sing-alongs of “Praise The Lord and Pass The Ammunition,” and other anthems. Neighborhood kids — Fayers, Cahills, Latanzas, Tompkins, Ornsteins — also played softball in the lot adjacent to the theater, breaking an occasional window when a long ball cleared the fence and headed toward Martense Street. The bravest among us also climbed the high tower at the back of the Granada building, going up the ladder to the water tank. It would be much appreciated if someone could tell me if that tower and water tank still exist now that the building is a Rite Aid drugstore. (I need the information for a story I am writing.) Moviegoing at the Granada actually ruined my life. I could have been a doctor, or a great violinist, or who knows what. Instead, after hanging out at the Granada as a kid, I spent my working years as a writer in television and film, and only recently retired to try writing fiction, a lot of it about the old days in Brooklyn. — (signed) Skonnert.
Gustavelifting:
Thanks for the information on the Loew’s Kings. I went there with my old man to watch Police Athletic League (PAL)fights on stage. I also used to box in a backyard near the Granada and once or twice at the Flatbush Boys Club. I think it’s great that someone is working to restore one of the old neighborhood theaters but I probably have little to add to his effort. I am still interested in that Granada water tower, if anyone has any information. Best, Skonnert.
We lived a half-block from the Granada on Church Avenue in the 1930s and 1940s. The grey-haired matron at that time was Mrs. Paramour, or Paramore. I started going to the movies there even before I started kindergarten at P.S. 246 and the matron assured my folks that she would look after me. She was also active in the Republican Club located a block or two away, near Bedford Avenue, and after we entered World War II, Mrs. Paramour marched me and others up to the club to join patriotic sing-alongs of “Praise The Lord and Pass The Ammunition,” and other anthems. Neighborhood kids — Fayers, Cahills, Latanzas, Tompkins, Ornsteins — also played softball in the lot adjacent to the theater, breaking an occasional window when a long ball cleared the fence and headed toward Martense Street. The bravest among us also climbed the high tower at the back of the Granada building, going up the ladder to the water tank. It would be much appreciated if someone could tell me if that tower and water tank still exist now that the building is a Rite Aid drugstore. (I need the information for a story I am writing.) Moviegoing at the Granada actually ruined my life. I could have been a doctor, or a great violinist, or who knows what. Instead, after hanging out at the Granada as a kid, I spent my working years as a writer in television and film, and only recently retired to try writing fiction, a lot of it about the old days in Brooklyn. — (signed) Skonnert.
We lived a half-block from the Granada on Church Avenue in the 1930s and 1940s. The grey-haired matron at that time was Mrs. Paramour, or Paramore. I started going to the movies there even before I started kindergarten at P.S. 246 and the matron assured my folks that she would look after me. She was also active in the Republican Club located a block or two away, near Bedford Avenue, and after we entered World War II, Mrs. Paramour marched me and others up to the club to join patriotic sing-alongs of “Praise The Lord and Pass The Ammunition,” and other anthems. Neighborhood kids — Fayers, Cahills, Latanzas, Tompkins, Ornsteins — also played softball in the lot adjacent to the theater, breaking an occasional window when a long ball cleared the fence and headed toward Martense Street. The bravest among us also climbed the high tower at the back of the Granada building, going up the ladder to the water tank. It would be much appreciated if someone could tell me if that tower and water tank still exist now that the building is a Rite Aid drugstore. (I need the information for a story I am writing.) Moviegoing at the Granada actually ruined my life. I could have been a doctor, or a great violinist, or who knows what. Instead, after hanging out at the Granada as a kid, I spent my working years as a writer in television and film, and only recently retired to try writing fiction, a lot of it about the old days in Brooklyn. — (signed) Skonnert.