In the fall of 1977, I was deeply involved with film: a media that has now been overshadowed by ‘all things digital’. My life revolved around film in my Offset printing job, and in my newly acquired photography interest. It was about this time that our family became interested in ‘film that moves’.

This interest started by scouring around for 8mm and Super 8mm home movie equipment. From this humble beginning we produced 2 minute home movies…with a twist. Ours were 2 minute short stories with titles like: "Foot Surgery", "Gunfight at the Banana Corral", "Summer Sledding", "Spaghetti-Pick-Up-Sticks" and "Aliens At Large". These were silent movies that involved the whole family, neighbors, and lots of "improvising" for both story lines and props (I’d call making space ships out of trash cans and tinfoil ‘improvising’ …wouldn’t you?)

I began to read about 35mm film; so with the smell of fall and popcorn in the air, I headed for the local movie house. At that time it was known as the ‘CinemaVue Theater’, but in the past the marquee had read "Gay Theater" (insert your own comments here as you see fit) and before that "Eveska" (the first two letters from the owners’ wives’ names: Eva, Estelle, and Kathleen). In a town of 2,000 people this theater had a strong history as a meeting place, but it was much more to me. Through the movies, it was a window to what was out there in "the rest of the world". The marquee lit up the entire street and the movies kept the town entertained from matinees until midnight. I told the owner I was interested in learning the skills of being a projectionist but didn’t want the job full-time. He said that would work perfectly, as the current projectionist hadn’t had a night off in years.

Let’s see what I can remember of the mechanics of being a projectionist:

First, you’d get up in the booth about an hour before the movie began and paste together the preview reel. You’d then mount your first reel of the movie (usually between 5 and 8 reels per movie) on one projector and your previews on the other projector. Unlike today you needed pairs of projectors for several reasons. The light source was arcs; much like taking two welding rods and touching the tips together…seems like they would make it through about 2 or 3 reels before they had to be replaced. And since reels ran about 15 or 20 minutes each, you’d have to switch from one projector to the other very systematically: a bell would ring to let you know to "strike the arc", then you’d start watching for those circles in the top/right corner of the screen. The first set was the queue to start the reels turning on the next projector. Seems like 3 seconds later the second set of circles was your queue to flip the shutter and hit the floor switch for sound (from one projector to the other). After you checked that the new reel was running and framed up correctly (not a sure thing, to say the least), you’d dismount the takeup reel on the projector and rewind the film, mount your next reel and change the arc rods as needed.

Saturday nights were especially fun as we’d put the reels back in the heavy metal containers and try to get out of there in time to get the kids to bed and see a brand new TV show that came on at 10:30 (that would have been Saturday Night Live in all it’s original splendor).

While the whole family went with me to several of the movies, my son Marshall was the most faithful. I’d attribute at least part of this to a 10 year old’s fascination with B-grade horror movies of the late 70’s like: "Day of the Animals" and "Invasion of the Ants". And I’m sure it didn’t hurt that the theater was the ONLY place to be on a Saturday night when you’re that age.

Well… the regular projectionist got sufficiently "vacationed up", I got my hands burned more than a few times changing rods, and I started a job that turned out to be 23 years of shift work; so that put an end to my projectionist days. Sometime before cable TV and megaplex theatres forever changed the meaning of "going to the movies", the old CinemaVue went dark. That town is not the same place without that corner of the world lit up and bustling, meeting and greeting, sharing the movie.

Fortunately I’m now able to pass the experience of seeing movies in my own neighborhood with people that I know (instead of at the "megaplex" with a roomful of strangers) on to the next generation. My grandsons and I start early in the week making plans to go to the Palace Theater, which is just minutes from the house. There’s nothing any better than seeing the street lit up with that yellow marquee as people come and go to the movies. It is something that has revitalized my current hometown, and something that has a very special meaning to me: a survivor of "The Next-To-Last Picture Show".

P.S. (6/29/02) I just saw the movie "The Rookie" at the Palace Theater with my grandson Ryan. It had the song "Stuff That Works" in it, by Guy Clark; who performed it at the Palace four months earlier. How cool is that?