BY SAM HUTCHMAN
When I was overseas during World War II, my sister sometimes included photos of our favorite haunts in her letters to me. The accompanying photo is one of those she sent; what a welcomed respite from the war they provided!
The theater marquee reads "Buy War Bonds and Stamps," and the name of the movie now showing Gone With the Wind, certainly dates the photo. Looking at it brought back the memories.
When we were quite young in that long-ago time before television, our favorite weekly event above all others was going to the Saturday matinee at the Westmar.
The theater was aptly named because it was located on West Marshall Street in the west end of town. This was during the 1920s and early '30s and going there for the Saturday matinee cost 10 cents.
By the time we started high school we had become more sophisticated. If we had the money we'd venture downtown to one of three movie houses located there.
But instead of the dime we paid at the Westmar, it cost 25 cents and even 35 cents to go downtown; with a date, a boy could spend a whole dollar in just an evening!
But even getting that dime for the Westmar meant getting up early Saturday morning and hauling trash to the dump for neighbors at 5 cents a load. It took most of the morning to make enough for admission plus a nickel for treats.
"Jake's six for a nickel" was a candy store about a block and a half from the theater. Jake's solid seasonal candy out of season - Christmas and Easter candy in July, etc. It was always stale but abundant. A bag of Jake's candy would last my sister and me and sometimes a guest through four or five hours of movies with a jawbreaker left over.
The Westmar was generally packed with kids all talking loudly and at a fever pitch in anticipation of the show. Fidgeting was practiced to the extreme. At long last the lights began to dim and the decibel level diminished to a mere din. Finally the first images appeared on the screen.
The show would usually begin with a cartoon or comedy and sometimes both. The serials, always a favorite, told - in 12 suspense-filled chapters - how our heroes and heroines overcame unspeakable obstacles to triumph over evil. The main feature followed and sometimes a double feature.
Sitting through four or five hours of movies was an endurance test for young bladders. From time to time two or three moviegoers would make a mad dash to the lavatories in the lobby. But there were others who would not risk missing a minute of the show by leaving their seats, and as a result there was a lot more fidgeting going on. My sister, much more astute than I, had drunk nothing since early morning and sat through the entire show in comfort.
Returning to our once-mundane world after the movie, we'd fly home in a World War 1 airplane pursued by the Red Ace, or ride a steed like one ridden by Tom Mix or Tim McCoy or Fred Thompson, or fend off Roman hordes along side Ben Hur in his chariot.
Such illusions were fringe benefits we enjoyed long after the movie was over.
A child's imagination stimulated by the afternoon movie was certainly worth more than the 10-cent admission.
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