The Alexander City Outlook

War and movies

Just before the Christmas holidays when I was in the second grade, the whole world changed out of all recognition. Dec. 7, 1941, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, and we were at war. The Americans were united with one purpose: to win the war.

All my life there was but one President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and we had total confidence in him, the generals, the admirals and the fighting forces of the United States. Patriotism by every citizen was taken for granted. The Armed Forces were on the European and Pacific Fronts. We were all on the Home Front, and everybody had a job to do.

We sold and bought defense stamps and bonds, we had scrap iron drives, we wrote to the men in service (whether we knew them or not) and, if a railroad train carrying troops happened to stop in the middle of town; the word spread and we all gathered up our comics (or “funny books”) and handed them through the train windows to the men in uniform. To receive their gratitude was a thrilling experience. Soldiers and sailors often hitchhiked along the roads and highways and not to pick them up was unthinkable. Any small act like that was helping with the war effort and helping to defeat Japan and Germany. Occasionally, Mr. Mack Jackson, owner of the Strand Theater, would sponsor “Bond Shows” which would be first run, popular movies almost always in Technicolor starring luminaries like Betty Grable.

A person had to produce a war bond in order to be admitted. Those possessing $25 bonds (which cost $18.75) could sit in the balcony and maybe the last few rows downstairs. Those with $50 bonds were seated closer to the front, and so it went with $100 bonds, $500 bonds and so on. Mr. Jackson ran a tight ship, and there was absolutely no misbehavior in his establishment. Continuous whispering or talking could bring down the wrath of the house. This meant the show was completely stopped and Mr. Jackson or Mr. Pat Segrest would give a bracing speech about good manners and behavior, always threatening to shut down altogether, refund our money and send us home – a fate worse than death. There was no popcorn or any other concession sold during those days. On special occasions (most likely the Sunday afternoon matinee) volunteer ladies with the Red Cross would take up collection for some war effort or other. I only remember a very few times when someone would be asked to leave the theater – once was during my birthday. These events were called “picture show parties” and discipline would be humiliating both to the host and to the victim. On top of the obvious shame and disgrace, the poor fellow missed the rest of the movie. The Strand was the biggest movie house standing proudly at the top of Tallapoosa Street. Later on Mr. Jackson built the smaller Jackson theater, which showed B movies and cost only a dime. Often it was possible to catch excellent horror movie at the Jackson. There were rumors that there were rats at the Jackson, but I never saw one.

Then, even later, one of the Lamberth family built and operated the Bama Theater, which was rather nice. I saw an excellent B movie named “Istanbul” there. It was in some kind of color and featured much Nazi intrigue among characters of dubious reputations and national origins. At some point, Mr. Jackson built the Pines Drive-In, which was out on Highway 22 and enjoyed excessive popularity. All sorts of reputations were won, lost, questioned and mystified at the drive-in. Movies were the entertainment of the town and were more like institutions than simply places to sit and watch a film. Most of the community grudgingly approved movie going on Sunday afternoons (if Sunday school and church had been attended that morning), but this approval was by no means 100 percent. Parents had the final word. A date to the movies on Saturday night was considered more than just casual, and Monday through Thursday were school nights; so it was better to hit an afternoon matinee during those days. It was very common to wear coats and ties for weekend dates.