About 30-35 years ago I was friends with a boy whose father was a manager with the Manos company and his mom would clean the Manos in the mornings. I received a real treat when I stayed over his house one night. We were able to join his mom while she cleaned. I ate the leftover popcorn, drank a ton of soda and got to explore the whole theater. Downstairs between the lounges was a small room that had a bank-type vault in it FULL of movie posters. I guess when the movies were over they would just roll them up and throw them in. To the right of the lounges was a door that led to what I was told was the “bomb shelter.” It contained some mechanical equipment, the original 1940’s backup generator and had a super thick wood door (the kind that you locked by placing a bar across it) which led to a long tunnel like hallway then to stairs which led out the back of the building. Given that the place was built during WWII I kind of believe the story. I wonder what they did with all of those posters?
About 30-35 years ago I was friends with a boy whose father was a manager with the Manos company and his mom would clean the Manos in the mornings. I received a real treat when I stayed over his house one night. We were able to join his mom while she cleaned. I ate the leftover popcorn, drank a ton of soda and got to explore the whole theater. Downstairs between the lounges was a small room that had a bank-type vault in it FULL of movie posters. I guess when the movies were over they would just roll them up and throw them in. To the right of the lounges was a door that led to what I was told was the “bomb shelter.” It contained some mechanical equipment, the original 1940’s backup generator and had a super thick wood door (the kind that you locked by placing a bar across it) which led to a long tunnel like hallway then to stairs which led out the back of the building. Given that the place was built during WWII I kind of believe the story. I wonder what they did with all of those posters?