I was ecstatic! The projector was very heavy but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I lugged it out of the building and hauled it to the trunk of our car. I tossed my bike into the trunk as well and I was ready to go. Daddy wasn't.
Reflections After Dark, Memories of the Drive-In by John Gilbert
Chapter 4
Daddy coming home from the drive-in
 We lived on Cody Rd. less than two miles from the Edgewood. Occasionally I would ride my bike to the drive-in. Cody Road ran into Macon Road but Macon Road was very busy so I took the back way. I'd ride down Oak Circle to Dexter Drive which dead ended into Primrose Road. I'd cut across Primrose and ride up into the woods. I'd follow the trails which would lead into Parkhill Cemetery. I'd ride out of the cemetery entrance and take a left and the Edgewood about a quarter of a mile from there. The drive-in lot was a great place to ride a bike. The parking ramps were fun to ride over as were the sidewalks around the concession. The concession building was built a foot or so below the ground level and there were ramps that lead down to the restrooms and the concession's back door. I would get up speed and ride down one ramp and shoot up the other. It was fun to skid my tires in the loose gravel and race around the light post that ran down the center of the entrance dividing the two lanes. On this particular day I saw daddy's car in front of the screen and the art shop door was open. I went inside and he was working on a banner for some up coming movie. I went into the right storage room and rummaged through the old projection equipment stored there. After a few minutes I headed back to the art shop and to the left storage room. It was harder to get into. Unless the outside doors were open I had to enter from the shop and climb over some old boiler equipment that was stored there. I climbed into the room, which usually held the theaters lawn equipment, and a wonderful site greeted my eyes. There stood two small film projectors. I read the plate on the door and it read, "Holmes Portable Projector." Wow! Portable projectors and I've got to have them. I raced back over the boilers, my eyes big as saucers.
"Daddy! There are two portable projectors in there!"
"Yeah. Mr. White at the main office had a screening room in his home and he's retiring. They brought them over here for storage."
"Can I have ‘um?" I begged.
"I'm afraid not. They don't belong to me."
I had to have those projectors. I told my father that they would wind up like all of the equipment that was rusting away in the other storage room. I told him they were too small for a theater but they would be perfect in our basement.
I had bought a Kodak 8 mm projector from a pawn shop for $15.00. Into our dirt basement I dragged the family picnic table to use as a projector stand. At the opposite end of the basement I hung one of my mother's bed sheets from the floor joist to serve as a screen. I used my sisters' record player (from which I removed the speaker and placed it behind the screen) for sound. I even had a small flashlight bulb that could be dimmed with my model train transformer. With a few concrete blocks for seats, I had a theater. It even had a name, the Bijou. For the low, low price of five cents, the neighborhood kids could watch my collection of black & white cartoons and short subjects. I was proud of my little cinema. Now I imagined the Bijou with 35MM projectors. Harold Bishop had given me some old intermission film that he was going to throw out. Now I could show it in the basement.
I used every weapon in my arsenal to persuade him how I needed those projectors. Daddy paused from his work and took out his huge ring of keys and began to flip through them and he walked out of the shop. He walked to the huge door and unlocked it. Again, there sat the objects of my desire. He walked in and studied the projectors for a moment.
"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to take one home for a few days to play with."
I was ecstatic! The projector was very heavy but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I lugged it out of the building and hauled it to the trunk of our car. I tossed my bike into the trunk as well and I was ready to go. Daddy wasn't. He had to finish his banner. I knew that I would be old and gray before he was ready to go home. After what seemed like years he put the finishing touches on his sign and we left for home. Before Daddy could come to a complete stop in our driveway, I was out of the car and lugging the heavy machine to the basement. The Kodak projector lost its place on the picnic table and I hefted the Holmes in its place. I plugged it in and turned it on. It worked! It was very loud on account of a belt driven fan to cool the lamp. The lens had been removed so there was no way to focus a picture. I turned the projector off and searched around for something to use as a lens. I found a magnifying glass that was about the right size but what would hold it in the focus ring? Another search produced a Styrofoam cup. I cut out the bottom of the cup and the lens fit perfectly. The cup was then fitted in the focus ring and it was a perfect fit. With my home made lens in place I was ready to run my film. There was no amplifier nor was there a belt for the take up reel. There was a threading diagram on the feed magazine and I carefully followed it. Having finished threading the machine I stuck my finger in the take up reel and started the projector. I had to turn the reel with my finger as the machine started but I had a picture. It wasn't very sharp because of the cheap plastic lens but it was a picture notwithstanding. The film lasted for about a minute and my show was over. I ran to the phone and called my friends to come over for a demonstration.
Several weeks later daddy came home with a piece of news that was too good to be true.
"I ran into Mr. White at the office today and I told him that you had wanted to take those projectors home. He said to me,' Well, if the boy can get some use out of them, let him have them."
I very nearly fainted. This was the greatest present anyone could have ever bestowed on me. I wanted to go to the drive-in that instant and retrieve the remaining equipment. I was told that we would get it on the next trip. It actually took several trips to get the other projector, two pedestals, reels, and a film cabinet. Before long I had a regular projection booth in the Bijou. It would be many years before I had a proper sound system for the projectors. (The portable projectors were such a treasure to me that I still have them at this writing.)
 I was now fifteen and quite the veteran of the drive-in. I had worked the concession, the box-office, cut the grass, changed the marquee, helped check speakers, chased cars driving in through the exit, and dozens of other jobs. I loved the Edgewood. There was always something new going on, some new promotion to work on. The summer of '68 was exciting. I had became involved with making the dreams happen at the drive-in. For the next four and a half years I would help my father cut out marquee displays for "Gone with the Wind" and paint bullet holes on an old junk car for "Bonnie and Clyde". There were western gunslingers shooting it out in front of the concession stand during intermission for the Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns. Giant Fourth of July fireworks displays lit the sky on Independence Day. Even my sisters dressed in hoop skirts and danced on the marquee for "The Cheyenne Social Club." There's one promotion that really stands out in my mind.
On day daddy asked if some of my buddies would like to help out with an upcoming scary movie. The film company was shipping costumes with the movie, "Teenaged Psycho verses Bloody Mary." It was a cheaply made horror film and the movie preview advertised, "Monsters in the theater." My friends, Tommy Chadwick, Tommy Morris, and Rodney Cain, jumped at the chance. The film and costumes arrived and my buddies and I used the art shop as our dressing room. The costumes looked like old pajama tops with glow-in-the-dark tape stripes glued to them. There were full head masks which looked roughly like the movie monsters and were painted with glow paint. There was also a huge flash gun and flashbulbs the size of a 200 watt light bulb. Sometime after the show started daddy came to the shop to make sure we were ready. We donned our costumes and he turned the room light and lead us outside onto the grassy area in front of the screen. That was always an interesting place to view the theater. The outline of the concession could bee seen illuminated by the blue and green floodlights on the light pole behind it. From a single point in the projection booth the projected light fanned out to fill the screen. All that could be seen from this angle were shafts of colored light flickering and dancing in the air. If you looked up at the screen all one would see were colored blobs of light. You had to move away from the screen to see the picture. Daddy got us ready as the time drew near. At this point in the movie a clumsy mad scientist accidentally opens a cage filled with monsters. The monsters spring toward the camera. Daddy told us to close our eyes and flash, the bulb went off. When I opened my eyes, all of the costumes were alight with a bright green glow. We all split up and ran to different areas in the theater with our costumes all aglow. We jumped up and down in front of cars and growled and screamed in monster fashion. Some girls screamed but most pointed and laughed. Some turned on their headlights which only caused our costumes to glow brighter. As we neared the concession we all made a mad dash to the projection booth. Harold Bishop threw open the lamp house door and the brilliant carbon arc lamp recharged our costumes. We finished scaring the back rows and headed back to the screen. It had been a great deal of fun and we swapped stories of scaring girls until it was time to go home. We would enjoy becoming monsters twice more that weekend.
July 4th was hot and humid as July days always are in Columbus. I was excited about the big fireworks display that night. The day before, daddy and I had spent the afternoon with a pair of post hole diggers digging holes for firework mortar tubes in front of the screen. He had angled the tubes slightly toward the screen. This way the fireworks would burst over the screen and not over the lot. No matter how far away one would place the fireworks, there was always some guy who would claim a firework had burned the paint on his car. It was an easy way to get a new paint job. The angled tubes should take care of the problem. All of my affore mentioned "monster" buddies were going to be there to help. We spent most of the afternoon at the drive-in. We couldn't wait for sunset. We had to make sure everything would be all right as though the display had something to do with us. Looking back, I'm sure we were more of a hindrance than a help. We were in the art shop when it began to grow dark outside and the wind began to pick up. It looked like rain. Not rain! Not today of all days! In a few minutes the bottom fell out. Fortunately, daddy had the foresight to cover the mortar tubes with plastic so they wouldn't fill with water. The rain came down in buckets! Lightening flashed and thunder sounded all around us. I was sure the fireworks show would be rained out but then I had an idea.
"Hey guys. I know how to make it stop raining!" I shouted. "It always stops raining when you want to play in it. Come on, let's go!"
The four of us dashed into the pouring rain . There was a green lawn that ran between the screen and the street.. On either side of the lawn were the entrance and exit. They ran parallel to each other at that point. Between the entrance and exit the was a depression in the lawn that would catch run off water and channel it away from the screen. The water was knee deep as we splashed through it. We laughed and jumped and splashed in the crystal clear water and got soaked to the skin. We ran to the marquee and back to the screen, splashing an falling into the water. It worked. In a few minutes the rain stopped. Distant thunder told us that the storm was moving on. The water level dropped and left the grass a bright and vibrant green as the lawn drank in the cool rain water. We dashed back through the art shop and out the other side. We checked the mortar tubes. They were dry. The air was cool and fresh as daddy came to check on his setup. Everything had made it through the storm.
The feature for the evening was "Snow White and the Three Stooges." The theater was filled with kids wanting to see the movie and the fireworks. At last came the intermission and time for the show. The firework mortars weren't much to look at. They looked like papier - mache' balls with a fuse. From a distance I watched daddy drop one of the mortars into the tube, light the fuse, and run. The fuse burned slowly for a second then suddenly burned so fast that it shot around like a loose water hose before disappearing down the tube. The next second there was an explosion and a spinning ball shot skyward. In another second the sky lit up as a loud report shook the ground. Beautiful showers of red and green fire arched toward the earth as the sounds of ‘ooh's and ‘aahs' wafted across the lot. That was followed by more explosions and spectacular showers of gold and silver flames that live only for a moment. Rockets shot skyward screaming then exploding in red flames. An American flag composed of red, white, and blue flames burned on a frame in front of the screen as a twenty foot long roll of firecrackers popped and flew in every direction.. I asked daddy if I could light one of the mortars and to my surprise he said yes. I found a fat one about the size and shape of a toilet paper roll and dropped it into the tube. I lit the fuse and took a few steps back. I didn't see any need to run. After all, the firework was going straight up and not toward me. The slow fuse burned and hit the fast burning part. Suddenly a pressure hit me with the force of an unseen sledge hammer. The blast pushed me backward and left me deaf. For a few seconds all I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears. I now knew why there was a slow burning part to the fuse. It was to get away. As I walked to my friend Tommy my hearing was coming back. I told him if he ever lit a firework, run!
The show was a great success. Most of the crowd left after the fireworks were over. Daddy and I were back the next day to dig up the tubes and send them back to the fireworks company. It was a lazy summer day and I spent some time rummaging through the storage area in the screen. In a corner of the room were several boxes containing metal marquee letters. This was odd. The Edgewood's marquee used red Masonite letters. These were painted fluorescent green. For a few moments I stood staring at the letters. Then I had a thought. There were three squares, one on each side of the projection booth. Each square had metal strips arranged in neat rows. The backs of each letter had a slot. Could the squares on the side of the projection booth be sign boards? I grabbed four letters; J, O, H, & N. I raced from the screen to the concession, up the booth stairs and onto the roof. The letters fit perfectly onto the metal strip. I looked up and to see neon tubes in a kind of gutter housing running the length of the sign and aimed at its face. The neon tubes were black. It all fell into place. These were black light tubes and that's why the letters were painted fluorescent green. I spelled my name on the top row of the sign and wend back down stairs. Daddy had brought the mortar tubes to the concession where the delivery man would pick them up. In the back room of the concession there was a wall with several switch and power boxes. I searched the wall until I found a box labeled "B Lights." That had to be it. I flipped the lever up and ran back outside, up the stairs, and onto the roof. In the bright sunlight I could see the deep purple glow of the lights. The letters even seemed to be glowing a little. I wondered how long it had been since the lights had been turned on. It gave me an idea. Tonight there would be another light show only this time it would be with black lights.
Martin Theaters had an artist named Purdy Waller. With a name like Purdy, I knew he had to grow up tough. Purdy had given me several cans of fluorescent spray paint and I had a black light at home. I was always fascinated by the glow of the colors under the light. It was just about dusk when I emerged from the screen tower carrying a box full of letters. I lugged them up the booth steps and onto the roof and started my sign work. Popcorn 75¢. Hamburgers 95¢. Pizza $1.50. I couldn't spell soft drinks because I didn't have enough D's. Shortly after the feature started I made my way to the back room of the concession and threw the switch. I dashed outside to see what I had done. There were my signs, on three sides of the booth, for all to see . The eerie green letters stood out against the dark projection booth walls. I thought it looked cool! I walked toward the box-office and looked back. Cool! I walked down the back row for a look from that angle. Cool! I walked to the exit to look back at the other wall. Cool! I ran back to the box-office to tell daddy to come and have a look but he was busy. The concession manager was busy with customers and couldn't take a look. I was left to myself to admire my handy work. I left the sign on the rest of the night but no one commented on it. I was thinking what a great idea to spell out up coming attractions and other announcements. But then again, that's what I had to do twice a week. Change the marquee. That was the job I hated most at the Edgewood. Maybe this sign business wasn't such a good idea after all. After closing I removed the letters and put them back into the box. When I came down the booth steps, daddy's car was there. He wasn't around so I slipped the box into the trunk. I was sure I could find something to do with my black light and the letters at home.
next read chapter5
|
|
John Gilbert > Reflections After Dark, Memories of the Drive-In 4