Summer Movies

For several years during the 50’s, the small town where I grew up provided free movies on Saturday night during the summers. The town was so small (815 pop.) that there was no movie theater. I remember that population because there was a sign at the edge of town declaring it to be so. I often wondered why the sign didn’t change when I knew someone had died or a mother had had her baby. Ah..but I am straying here. Let’s get back to the movies.

Since there was no theater, the movies were shown in a vacant lot between two buildings. One of the buildings had a white wall which served as the movie screen. Along the edge of the other building they would sell popcorn, candy, and soft drinks.

Our family didn’t have a lot of money so we would always take our own popcorn. Popping the corn and filling a grocery sack with it was part of the ritual of movie night for us. My older brother and I would take the popcorn sack and a blanket to sit on and off we would go. Sometimes, a friend of his or a kid from the neighborhood would join us. The movie wouldn’t start until dark, so being out late by ourselves was also part of the grand adventure.

My favorite movies that were often shown were Francis the Talking Mule and Dagwood and Blondie. I liked both of these. It seemed Donald was always getting into some sort of trouble that Francis would have to rescue him from. For some reason I remember them being in the Army a lot. Blondie also seemed to get herself into lots of trouble which drove Dagwood crazy. She was just plan funny. Sometimes they would show something a little more serious and sometimes even scary, like a Lon Chaney movie or Frankenstein.

After the movie, my brother and I would walk home which was about five blocks away. He often ran away from me and went ahead until he was out of my sight. I would continue walking home on my own, but I knew I hadn’t seen the last of him. There was a garage near the edge of the road that we would have to walk by. As I would approach this garage my heart would start thumping. Wondering if he was behind it was the cause of my anxiety. I wouldn’t know for sure until I reached the edge of the building, then he would leap out from behind it with his arms stretched above his head and yelling, “ARRRRR” at the top of his lungs. I would let out a piecing scream. I just couldn’t help it even when I suspected he was going to do this.

I probably acted as if I was mad at him but I wasn’t really. Looking back I believe it was just the topper to a perfect summer night.