Chapter 7
Final Chapter and Epilogue
One of the few diversions that kept me sane during those dark days was a part I had in the Springer Theater's upcoming production of "A Christmas Carol". I had auditioned and landed the part of the gentleman who begs money from Scrooge to feed the poor. I identified well with the part. I liked the Springer. My father had also managed the Springer when it had been converted into a movie theater years before. It was also where I had seen my first indoor movie. I had wanted the Bradley to be to film what the Springer was to the stage.
The play came and went all too quickly and then came Christmas. Bob Cratchet never had such a meager Christmas as we had. There was no money for presents but with the help of family and friends we were able to provide a few gifts for Ashleigh, now 3, and Lindsay who had just turned 2.
I searched in vain for a job. Everywhere I searched they would recognize me as the "Bradley Theater guy" but none were willing to hire me. When Show Biz Pizza offered me a part time bus boy position, I took it and continued the search.
One cold January day the power company turned the lights off at our house because we couldn't pay our bill. When I got home that evening Angie had packed her car with her belongings and was loading up the girls. She said that the children couldn't stay in a house without heat or lights and she was going to her mother's in Atlanta. She said that if I wanted to be with my family that I would go with her. I explained that I had a lead on a job and that she should go to her mothers and I would get things straightened out. She left and with a single candle for light, I unrolled my sleeping bag onto the bed and slept in a dark, cold, and very empty house.
A new TV station was about to go on the air and Beverly Suhr had talked to the station manager about hiring me. The station was going to be a movie channel and Beverly suggested that who would be better to host a movie program than John Gilbert. The manager liked the idea and Beverly got us together. The biggest problem the station had with getting on the air was that the transmitter tower was being built in a swamp. It had rained for weeks and the ground was too wet to pour the footings. It looked like it would be February before work could begin. There were only a few breaks in the rain during February so it looked like things would have to wait till March. In March the rains continued and I was told that it might be summer before the ground would be dry enough to start work.
I would work at Show Biz during the week and visit Angie and the girls on the weekend. I would keep her updated on the progress of the station but on this weekend the news was not good. I told her that it might be months before the station would be operational and that I still had no other job offers. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to leave Columbus. It was my home. Plitt Theaters had offered me a job at a theater in Atlanta before the Bradley went under but I refused to leave Columbus.
As I prepared to leave Atlanta for home that Sunday evening, Angie sent the girls to their room to play. I would then slip quietly out the door without the children knowing that I was leaving. As I opened the door I caught sight of a little blonde haired child racing down the hallway toward me.
"Dada! Don't go. Don't go!" Ashleigh cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I stepped back inside and threw my arms around the crying child. My decision had been made.
"Daddy has to go now but when I come back I won't go away anymore."
It was with a heavy heart that I left my home town. I packed my things and moved to Atlanta and into my mother-in-law's home. It wasn't long before I found a job with Eastern Federal Theaters and on March 15th, 1983 I started as the manager of the Miracle Twin Theater in Smyrna, Georgia.
The Miracle was a dollar theater and it was nice but I felt I could make it nicer. I began to build lobby displays and decorate the theater with much of the old movie memorabilia I had collected from the Bradley. I stopped people from talking and smoking in the auditoriums and beer drinkers were promptly evicted. Patrons noticed the changes and were very pleased. Attendance rose to the point that some shows were selling out.
Soon, I moved my family to Smyrna and we lived there for two years. Then we moved to Stockbridge, about twenty miles south of Atlanta. It was there that our third daughter, Amanda, was born, and where we live today.
Though we had been away from Columbus for four years, I was still bothered by the loss of the Bradley. It haunted my dreams. Scarcely a week went by that I did not dream that I was back in the Bradley fighting for its survival. Then one night I dreamed that I was standing in the balcony inside the Bradley. Workmen were tearing out the stage and were smashing through rear wall and I could see the street outside. I stood there screaming, "Leave it alone! Leave it alone!" I immediately awoke and found myself sitting up in bed shouting,"Leave it alone!
A few days later I receive a newspaper clipping from a friend in Columbus announcing that the Bradley was going to be turned into the Drug Free Teen Center. There was a photograph showing a Junior League member presenting a check for $50,000 donated to the center. I was angry. Where was my $50,000? Where was the Junior League when I needed help? I fired off a hot letter to the editor of the Columbus papers because I knew that there was no such thing as a "drug free" teen center. (I was later told by some of the kids that drugs were more available than candy in the center. This was also backed up by one of the children's parents.)
Still the dreams continued. My failure with the Bradley weighed heavy on my mind. As I was about to get into bed the evening of January 19, 1986 when I fell to my knees at my bedside.
"Heavenly Father, the Bradley Theater weighs heavily on my mind. It haunts my dreams and I feel like such a failure. Please help me to overcome these feelings."
It was the very next morning that my prayer was answered. As I was making breakfast a picture of the Bradley with a bulldozer sitting on the median in front of the theater flashed into my mind. It was a scene from our first fund raiser on the median on Broadway. Then a thought came clearly into my mind. The Bradley WAS going to be torn down. Bids had already been let out for its demolition and offers had already been received by Plitt Theaters. The demise of the theater was in the works until I stepped in. I HAD saved the Bradley! It was not torn down. It was still standing! I had done the job I had set out to do. I literally felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I was smiling. The dreams stopped.
* * * * * *
Once in a great while I will still dream of the Bradley. The dreams are different now. I dream that the theater has a new owner who is conducting me on a tour. I tell my dream host that I too once ran the Bradley. I tell him that my father once managed here as well. My host shows me the changes that have been made. As we drift from one room to another I ask what ever happened to the screen and where are the projectors. My questions are never answered and somehow it doesn't matter. I ask my host if I can let my father have a tour. I am told to bring him with me the next time I come.
That dream came true on Friday September 8th, 1995. Another newspaper clipping came in the mail with a headline that read, "The Bradley Reopens." (Oddly enough a story on the same clipping was "(Burt) Reynolds wants to direct play at Springer") I called the phone number in the article and introduced myself.
"Are you the John Gilbert that had the Bradley in 1982? We've been trying to find you for months," said the manager.
I explained that my family, along with my parents, were about to leave for Florida and we would be coming through Columbus in about two hours. I asked if we could have a tour of the building.
"You sure can. I'd like to show you all of the changes we've made. Please bring your father with you when you come.
You see, dreams do come true.
Epilogue
I worked for several theater companies after moving to the Atlanta area. Having heard of my experience with the Bradley, the Georgia Theater Company hired me to manage Ted Turner's CNN Cinema 6 Theaters. The theater featured Gone With The Wind, 365 days a year. There was also a classic theater and four first run theaters. I got to pick the films for the classic theater and ran many of the same films I ran at the Bradley. As I was crossing the lobby one evening, I passed a small group of patrons and overheard one of them saying that he had driven to Columbus to see this movie. I was showing Robin Hood starring Errol Flynn. I turned on my heel and doubled back to the group.
"Excuse me but did I hear you say that you had driven to Columbus to see Robin Hood?" I asked.
"Yeah," the guy answered. "There used to be a theater in downtown Columbus that was showing old movies. We'd get a Columbus paper and find out what was playing and if it was something we wanted to see, we'd drive down, a whole bunch of us. They've got some nice restaurants down there. We'd make an evening of it with dinner and a movie. There was this guy who'd come out on the stage and tell a little bit about the movie. Sometimes we'd get a hotel if it was a late movie."
"Did he say, ‘Hello, I'm John Gilbert and welcome to the Bradley Theater,' and then tell about the movie?" I asked.
The patron gave me a puzzled look. "Yeah. Were you there?"
"I'm John Gilbert. I'm the guy who started the theater project."
We talked for a few minutes and parted company. I had no idea that people had started coming from Atlanta to the Bradley. Not only were they coming to the Bradley but they were patronizing restaurants and hotels as well. My effort had gone well beyond the walls of the Bradley.
A week later my boss came by the CNN theater. Georgia Theater Company had been bought out by United Artist Theaters and the new company was bringing in its own managers. I was asked to clean out my desk. Without so much as a warning or even a "thank you," I was without a job. I loved that job and in a matter of two minutes it was gone. It would be the last time I would manage a theater.
 I missed theater business terribly but like my father, I am now too old to work in a theater. Over the years I have collected a barn full of theater equipment. One day I got to studying my barn. It was a two stall horse barn with a tack room. Here was my theater! I set to work knocking out walls and putting in a floor and ceiling. I built an elevated floor for the projector, made a porthole through the wall and put in a screen. I have lights on a dimmer and even have a row of theater seats. I would show Angie and our three daughters cartoons and reels of previews. After I had built my little cinema, Angie grew sick. It was cancer. She put up a good fight but it was not a happy ending. Angie left this world on April 15th, 1999.
I seldom go to the barn anymore. Everything is covered in dust and the film reels are moldy. My nephew is now the projectionist at the AMC 24 Theaters in Morrow, Georgia. I told him to be careful. Theater business gets in your blood. A few nights ago he brought over a "Phantom of the Opera" preview. We took it to the barn. I dusted off the projector and turned it on and it fired to life. There was a little rust in the sprockets and I wire brushed it off. I then threaded up the machine. Again I turned it on and dimmed the lights. I opened the dowser and turned on the sound switch. The little screen filled with light and booming base filled the room. I sat in one of the dusty theater seats and watched the action play out on the screen. A tear glistened in my eye. "Angie would have liked this."
In memory of Angela S. Gilbert. June 22, 1958 - April 15th, 1999
Thus ends "Save the Bradley" contact John Gilbert
Don't miss "Reflections After Sunset. Memories of the Drive-in." by John Gilbert
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John Gilbert > Save The Bradley 7