Robin Theatre

BobCarter on January 19, 2017 at 5:53 pm

I grew up around the block from the Robin Theatre on Gilmore Street in the heart of St. Louis during the late 1930s and through the War years. My mother was a true movie buff during those years of the Great Depression. Movies served to relieve the awful drudgery of those times and gave people some hope for the future. Then BANG! World War II was upon us. But we had the tiny Robin theatre right around the corner. My mother took us there every week. Adult admission was a dime, kids got in for a nickel unless they were accompanied by an adult. Then admission was free. We sometimes trudged up the alley (in the daytime) that ran between Robin Avenue and Gilmore to loose ourselves in the magic of movies. Most of them were in black and white, but that didn't seem to matter. For that dime my mom paid for the three of us we got to see two feature films, a news reel about the war, a cartoon or two, and on Saturdays a Tom Mix or Lone Ranger short serial (continued next week of course). And if we were lucky a Pete Smith Specialty, where, tongue in cheek, he poked fun at the world. Oh how I loved the droning voice of Pete Smith and the antics on the screen. I'm sorry that little theatre is gone. It was a haven from the reality of the Depression and the horrors of a world at war. But all things have their time and place and the little Robin Theatre had its time and served its purpose. Lucky me.
                

Noir on September 13, 2013 at 7:29 am

The blocks there seemed like a beautiful oasis near the old cinema. Children walking down Harney to Walbridge and Nativity of Our Lord/ St. Adalberts school late 1960’s through 1970’s always noticed the well kept vacant large lot. .

The houses around the old Robin Cinema were all small, and very pretty- like out of a story book myth. It did not look like a vacant lot—because it had been re-planted and kept up. I first thought a stately old French 17th century home might have been there. Next I thought an old fountain, or English glassed in “Jewel Box” type botanical garden like in Forest Park was there. It looked like an elegant garden had stood there. I use to see one of the neighbors cutting the lawn where the Robin Theatre once stood.

I knew something significant had been there but never knew what it was at that time. It seemed like something important had been there and people’s houses where like beautiful gingerbread houses as if saluting and point towards this area. There was no garbage, dumped tires, abandoned cars, ditchs and rubble in this lot.

Many children had to dis-embark on this march down Harney Street past the old Robin lot, it was a long journey alone for children-so we gathered in units to go. The general 90% of areas approaching the old Robin Theatre, doorway to doorway, house to house, past alley ways and streets, block to block were dilapidated and deterioriated and the Walnut Park camp was full of surprizes. You knew you would be safe briefly between two no man’s lands if you made it there to where the old Robin Theatre area, even if you had to run. We never knew why or what had been there.

This area/place where the Robin theatre was located felt dimensionally different for a block or two, a safe railroad station or a safe house overground. As a child I walked that urban trail with other children and I was happy to make it back to base/home.

A measure of residual happy energy remained in the adults there. Decades of laghter and people coming and going left a brief feeling of safe harbor. The Robin Cinema although very small, survived during WWII but was closed since 1947 made an impact on the neighbors who seemed to treat it as hallowed ground—keeping the area around its buriel and the houses very nice.

Maybe this is where they saw WWII newsreels or met their husband or wife, children saw they’re first movies or had great family memories.

kencmcintyre on January 18, 2007 at 4:03 pm

Arthur F.D. Kalbfell and Marie K. Wimberley bought the Robin in 1936, according to this lawsuit:
http://tinyurl.com/2tyk3p