We kids didn’t know what the odd shaped building was going to be. Shortly after the war, it resembled a hangar, but where was the runway? My sister Eleanore Jean (EJ), according to legend (my other sister, Virginia), climbed to the very top of the arched roof during construction (no doubt barefooted).
When it finally opened we were delighted to have a new theater in the neighborhood. From our apartment in court one, it was a 5 minute walk away. Tickets for 12 and under were .09 cents. Adult tickets sold for $.50, as I recall.
The interior was elegant: plush carpeting and photos of movie stars in glass cases: Bing Crosby and Bob Hope in their heyday.
It was a fun place to run at seemingly super speed within it’s dimly lit confines. I remember my eyes adjusting almost instantly when I entered the darkness of the theater. Eyesight like a cat back then.
Sometimes Dad (Kingsley Close aka King or Kink) would send me there with a bag of popcorn. A little embarrassing, but no one said anything about bringing my own.
Standard fare was a double feature with a cartoon in between. On special occasions, there would be a bonanza of cartoons; as I recall a half dozen or more in sequence. Bugs Bunny and Mr. Magoo were particular favorites of mine.
My sister Ginny and I were mutually supportive watching the terrifying The Thing. War Of The Worlds and The Day The Earth Stood Still were another couple Sci Fi humdingers. I sat between my parents, enthralled, during Showboat, filmed in unabashed Technicolor, with the glorious singing of Kathryn Grayson and Howard Keel (Why Do I Love You and Make Believe), William Warfield (Ol’ Man River), and sultry Ava Gardner .
After 4-5 hours engrossed in movies and cartoons, I’d sometimes leave disoriented, especially if day had turned to night.
I was thrilled and awed to meet friendly, handsome cowboy Roy Rogers there one day with my sister Virginia (Ginny) and Mom, Valborg (Bobby) Close.
My winter 1961 class of Dorsey High graduation was held there as were numerous St. Paul’s church Easter Sunday services. During graduation rehearsals, I still remember Mr. Horst asking me aloud why I was “stretching my visage all over the auditorium”, during a moment of horseplay. Someone sneezed loudly during the solemn graduation ceremony. I was sure it was my Dad and that everyone knew it. After graduation my boss at the 76 station, Ben Sutton, shook my hand and passed me a $5 bill.
We kids didn’t know what the odd shaped building was going to be. Shortly after the war, it resembled a hangar, but where was the runway? My sister Eleanore Jean (EJ), according to legend (my other sister, Virginia), climbed to the very top of the arched roof during construction (no doubt barefooted).
When it finally opened we were delighted to have a new theater in the neighborhood. From our apartment in court one, it was a 5 minute walk away. Tickets for 12 and under were .09 cents. Adult tickets sold for $.50, as I recall.
The interior was elegant: plush carpeting and photos of movie stars in glass cases: Bing Crosby and Bob Hope in their heyday.
It was a fun place to run at seemingly super speed within it’s dimly lit confines. I remember my eyes adjusting almost instantly when I entered the darkness of the theater. Eyesight like a cat back then.
Sometimes Dad (Kingsley Close aka King or Kink) would send me there with a bag of popcorn. A little embarrassing, but no one said anything about bringing my own.
Standard fare was a double feature with a cartoon in between. On special occasions, there would be a bonanza of cartoons; as I recall a half dozen or more in sequence. Bugs Bunny and Mr. Magoo were particular favorites of mine.
My sister Ginny and I were mutually supportive watching the terrifying The Thing. War Of The Worlds and The Day The Earth Stood Still were another couple Sci Fi humdingers. I sat between my parents, enthralled, during Showboat, filmed in unabashed Technicolor, with the glorious singing of Kathryn Grayson and Howard Keel (Why Do I Love You and Make Believe), William Warfield (Ol’ Man River), and sultry Ava Gardner .
After 4-5 hours engrossed in movies and cartoons, I’d sometimes leave disoriented, especially if day had turned to night.
I was thrilled and awed to meet friendly, handsome cowboy Roy Rogers there one day with my sister Virginia (Ginny) and Mom, Valborg (Bobby) Close.
My winter 1961 class of Dorsey High graduation was held there as were numerous St. Paul’s church Easter Sunday services. During graduation rehearsals, I still remember Mr. Horst asking me aloud why I was “stretching my visage all over the auditorium”, during a moment of horseplay. Someone sneezed loudly during the solemn graduation ceremony. I was sure it was my Dad and that everyone knew it. After graduation my boss at the 76 station, Ben Sutton, shook my hand and passed me a $5 bill.
Good times.