Sorry to disappoint anyone who loved the incredible interior of this classic movie palace (myself included)… but about ten or eleven years ago I walked into an architectural salvage place and instantly recognized dozens of pieces taken from the movie house. The unique nautical theme of the theatre made it impossible not to know exactly where they had come from. It looked as though they had taken out every single piece of ornamental plaster, and every light fixture and had them for sale for many hundreds of dollars each (little metal lanterns with sculpted frogs were going for $900 each; I think the mermaids/mermen who flanked the doors up front by the stage were going for $1500-$2000).
The story I got from one of the store employees was that the church that was occupying the space called up the salvage place to sell whatever they could from inside to raise some money for their organization. “We’ve been trying to get the Nortown for YEARS” was the quote that really turned my stomach and nearly brought tears to my eyes.
I went into the building soon afterwards one day when it was opening for church services to have a peek and everything remaining in the lobby has been painted white, the horoscope murals were gone (the salvage employee said only one had survived… they ripped all of the rest attempting to remove them) and pretty much all ornament was gone from the auditorium. The wall which divided the main auditorium into two smaller spaces had been removed to make it one big room again (the balcony was still closed off and they made it clear that it was off-limits to any looky-loos). A big dumpster was out front, and the grand marquee was down on the sidewalk waiting to be relegated to a scrap heap. The church vacated maybe a year or two later, leaving the once-glorious Nortown a sad shell of its former self.
After some soul-searching, I reluctantly decided to go back to the salvage place to see if there was a memento I could get, realizing I would never again have the opportunity to see any of these incredible pieces which held so many childhood memories for me. Much as I disagree with supporting the greed that leads to the destruction of these places, in this case the damage was done and I’d imagine most of the pieces were probably going to people who had no sentimental attachment to them. I ended up buying one of the sea serpents which was high up over the doorway near the proscenium. He hung proudly in my home until I moved from Chicago… I’m trying to figure a place of honor in my new home befitting a special memory.
I have long since left the neighborhood and the city, but will always fondly remember this beautiful place from my childhood, as the glittering magical palace where the fantastic atmosphere and whimsical creatures drew my attention as much as what was playing on the big screen. The lighthouse, the twinkling stars, the clouds gently drifting across the ceiling… and the incredible neighborhood showplace it was and I’m afraid it will never be again.
Sorry to disappoint anyone who loved the incredible interior of this classic movie palace (myself included)… but about ten or eleven years ago I walked into an architectural salvage place and instantly recognized dozens of pieces taken from the movie house. The unique nautical theme of the theatre made it impossible not to know exactly where they had come from. It looked as though they had taken out every single piece of ornamental plaster, and every light fixture and had them for sale for many hundreds of dollars each (little metal lanterns with sculpted frogs were going for $900 each; I think the mermaids/mermen who flanked the doors up front by the stage were going for $1500-$2000).
The story I got from one of the store employees was that the church that was occupying the space called up the salvage place to sell whatever they could from inside to raise some money for their organization. “We’ve been trying to get the Nortown for YEARS” was the quote that really turned my stomach and nearly brought tears to my eyes.
I went into the building soon afterwards one day when it was opening for church services to have a peek and everything remaining in the lobby has been painted white, the horoscope murals were gone (the salvage employee said only one had survived… they ripped all of the rest attempting to remove them) and pretty much all ornament was gone from the auditorium. The wall which divided the main auditorium into two smaller spaces had been removed to make it one big room again (the balcony was still closed off and they made it clear that it was off-limits to any looky-loos). A big dumpster was out front, and the grand marquee was down on the sidewalk waiting to be relegated to a scrap heap. The church vacated maybe a year or two later, leaving the once-glorious Nortown a sad shell of its former self.
After some soul-searching, I reluctantly decided to go back to the salvage place to see if there was a memento I could get, realizing I would never again have the opportunity to see any of these incredible pieces which held so many childhood memories for me. Much as I disagree with supporting the greed that leads to the destruction of these places, in this case the damage was done and I’d imagine most of the pieces were probably going to people who had no sentimental attachment to them. I ended up buying one of the sea serpents which was high up over the doorway near the proscenium. He hung proudly in my home until I moved from Chicago… I’m trying to figure a place of honor in my new home befitting a special memory.
I have long since left the neighborhood and the city, but will always fondly remember this beautiful place from my childhood, as the glittering magical palace where the fantastic atmosphere and whimsical creatures drew my attention as much as what was playing on the big screen. The lighthouse, the twinkling stars, the clouds gently drifting across the ceiling… and the incredible neighborhood showplace it was and I’m afraid it will never be again.