I have a soft spot for old movie houses. You know the kind. They usually sit on the main street of small towns. Their marquees fading and letters dangling. Occasionally, some are given new life as churches, antique malls or community theatres. Even more rare are the theaters that are still functioning and showing first-run features. Two of these latter theaters come to mind - the Select in Mineola, Texas and the River Oaks in Houston. (I would have liked to have added the 7th Street in Fort Worth, but, unfortunately, it was torn down a couple of years ago. It was the last remaining, single screen theater in Fort Worth.)
During their heyday, these theaters ranked just behind churches, schools, lodges and the general store as places where the community could gather, learn about the world through newsreels, fall in love with movie stars like Clark Gable and Betty Grable, and, perhaps in some small way, see themselves reflected back from the big screen. Being on one of the main streets, moviegoers could usually walk to the theater, stopping to say hello to neighbors or buying an ice cream to enjoy on the way home.* On a recent outing, I came across one of these old theaters - the Brunson - in Baytown, Texas. It was built in 1949 and on its facade are six bas reliefs that reflect what, at that time, the town was all about - oil, chemistry, engineering, medicine, fishing and shipping (my interpretations). In its day, it must have been a great place, but now sits boarded up and gutted with an uncertain future.*This is not a firsthand account. But I've heard tell of such things.
Photo: The Brunson. Copyright 2010 Mark C. Osborne, III. All rights reserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment