June 22, 2020:

Kids would open the side door, right of the screen as seen from the audience, to sneak their friends in free. I never could suss why. Admission was only $1, and even I could afford that.

Trailers: "My name's Pussy. Pussy Galore." The entire audience of middleschool boys erupts. Cheers, whistles, uproar. Standing up, blowing kisses at the screen, throwing candy. That joke had found its people.

At that age my mother drove me there and dropped me off. Later, summers home from college, I rode my bike, or sometimes walked. Walking was fine. There was an awful lot of surplus energy to expend.

Films I remember seeing specifically there: One Million Years BC and many other Hammer flicks, Connery's Bond flicks, The Poseidon Adventure, Fantastic Voyage, Marooned, Logan's Run, My Demon Lover, Teen Wolf.

A history I recently read says it was converted to two theaters some time in the middle or late 1970s. I don't remember that. My mental images are of a single, 1200-seat, poorly-maintained neighborhood theater pitched to the middleschoolers who were its primary clientele.