Popcorn Riot at the Capri, circa 1971

Story time: I think it was around the beginning of Christmas break in 1971 when an ad went out that Place's (the dime store next to Safeway at 42nd and University) was giving away free tickets to kids for a movie to be shown at the Capri, right across the street, as a holiday treat. Free popcorn and pop came with the deal. All you had to do was go to Place's, get your ticket, and go.

I did--to see something called "Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows", which was the 1968 sequel to a Hayley Mills film, "The Trouble With Angels". The plot involved teenage nuns running amok at the St. Francis convent--why someone thought this might appeal to a pre-teen, not-necessarily-Catholic crowds, I'm not sure. (But hey--it hadn't been too long since someone else had thought "The Flying Nun" was a good idea.)

The place was packed. Nuns or no, a free movie was a free movie. And trouble followed: the kids (except me and my friend John) were going berserk, screaming, jumping up and down on the seats, chasing each other up and down the aisles and stairs. A kid from my third grade class, who always played the part of the tough guy, was making full use of his free popcorn--initiating a full-on popcorn-throwing battle with a friend of his I'd never seen before. I don't remember any attempt by the management to try and calm things down--not that they really could have. The mania was too widespread.

Then: the movie. Old nuns, teen nuns, and a school bus paraded across the screen--the only thing I remember was that they mounted a pair of steer horns on the bus' hood at one point. (Such unbridled nunnity!) Strangely, the crowd actually settled down and watched the show without further melee. And two hours later, we left, blinking in Saturday afternoon light--leaving the poor Capri the dirtiest I'd ever seen it. None of us ever talked about it again. And--if I recall rightly--Place's and the Capri never held another free movie there again.

Meanwhile, Further Down 8th Street

Just down a couple blocks from the Empress, the Orpheum was not only running its own slate of vaudeville, but also (according to the small print) offering up the news of the world in that newfangled techonological wonder, the Kinogram.

Live at the Empress

An ad from the Des Moines Capitol newspaper, from when the Empress was predominantly running live vaudeville before becoming a movie house for the rest of its run. (You'll recall it ended up as the Galaxy.)

Note that the meager prices "include war tax"--World War I, that is.

Great Uncle Leo and his Date at the Garrick

As mentioned previously, the Orpheum at 208-8th street eventually reached a checquered point in its history when it became a burlesque house on the Mutual circuit, from 1925 to 1928, before a final attempt to rescue its reputation by becoming The President Theatre just prior to The Crash.

My great uncle, Leo Myron Satterlee (he, that crashed the "State Fair" premiere party some years later) found himself on a date there. He was living with someone who took in roomers, and it was one of these very roomers that led to the date. As Leo tells it:

Pearl [his househost] mentioned that while I was gone, a new theater had opened up in town, and she would like to go. I had never seen this girl [the roomer] before but Pearl said, "why don't we get reservations, make a foursome, and go see the show?" She called the theater but we could not get them for that night, so she made them for the next night. It turned out to be a burlesque stage show with live actors. Some of the skits were pretty risque for that time. I was embarrassed and the girl just slid down and would not look at the stage. She finally left before the show finished. In one of the skits, a man came out carrying a rooster and a lady carrying a kitten... [I think we've all probably heard this joke before!]

This Garrick Theater did not have shows every night of the week and once they advertised a men's-only show about the ravages of venereal disease. It was sponsored by most of the big companies in town, including the company I worked for. One night, several of the fellows got together and went. It showed actual pictures of what happened to the body of a victim. I decided then and there I would never chance such a thing. One of the fellows knew one of the ushers, as they were all volunteers from various places in town. He told us that one night, two girls dressed like boys came and were seated when the head usher got suspicious and challenged them. One of them cocked her head, looked up at him and said, "Yes, we have no bananas."

An S. Barger took over management duties under the Garrick monicker, and Joseph Oppenheimer--of the Mutual Burlesque Association--promised the theater would present "high standard shows", in an attempt to refute the "abuse" the term "burlesque" had suffered of late!

An Ode to Two Drive-Ins

To the right is a photo of a flyer sitting in the rubble of the Capitol Drive-In in the late 1980s--advertising something that was once fairly commonplace for drive-ins to do: Sunday morning open-air church services, with the sermons coming in over the attachable car speakers.

Around that same time, I was going to the S.E. 14th Street Drive-In a lot, and getting a good laugh out of the rocking vans and sudden brake-lights during the show. I thought of the church flyer I'd found at the Capitol site, and was struck by the irony of a place that be a passion pit one night, and then, a few hours later, a redemption spot. The chorus lyric popped right into my head, and then I scribbled down the rest of the lyrics right then, combining the Capitol and the S.E. 14th into a single south-side drive-in experience.

South Side Drive-In Night
(M. Heggen)

Late in the weekend when the sun goes down
Something is starting at the edge of town
The good ol' boys are taking good ol' gals
Out for a good ol' badass time

Cheapest thrills that you have ever seen
Found under a ninety foot asbestos screen
The South Side Drive-In Theater
Was still a legend in its prime

Well who could have known that while the folks at home
Lay dreaming with eyes shut tight
Everybody'd be singin' on Sunday morning
After sinnin' on Saturday night

Temperature's rising as the screen lights up
Whiskey and Fresca from a paper cup
Heartbeats hittin' in overdrive
While the car's just sittin' in park

Shadows moving as the picture shows
Chinese firedrill in the back three rows
Bright eyes winking in the snack bar light
And brake lights blink in the dark

Well who would have guessed that while they did their best
To raise hay with all of their might
Everybody'd be singin' on Sunday morning
After sinnin' on Saturday night

Forty-two winks after the midnight rain
The bottles are empty and the back seat's stained
Boyfriend's heaving in misery
While girlfriend's left in the lurch

Oleo glistens on a paper cup
And catching the light as the sun comes up
The South Side Drive-In Theater
Becomes the South Side Drive-In Church

Well I should have known that way down home
They've their own way of puttin' things right
Everybody was singin' on Sunday morning
After sinnin' on Saturday night

(Copyright 1989 Mark Heggen)

When I recorded the song shortly after (with local scenesters Lonnie Urich on drums and Rick Van Oel on lead guitar), I added a scrap of an honest-to-goodness S.E. 14th intermission film audio, which I'd taped on my boom box one night, tuning in to the drive-in's radio audio. (Listeners might mistakenly note a couple of blasphemous moments in the recording, but offense can only be taken if it's Got that you believe in!)

Here's the link to the mp3: South Side Drive-In Night mp3

From A Previous Attraction

Though not exactly a Lost Cinema, the Plaza Theatre still falls into a grey area, because its original run as such was from 1967 to 1987, before closing for a few years and being reborn as the Merle Hay Cinema, which today still seats 808 people, making it the biggest screen--and screening room--in town.

At the top is one of two tel-op slides I have with the Plaza monicker--once again, the image is a bit blurry or doubled, a flaw inherent in the actual glass slide. (I wonder if parking at the Mall is still "supervised"?)

Below is a lenticular coming-attractions board that was used to be mounted over a one-sheet of whatever feature was coming next at the Plaza.

More to come about the Plaza: a strip of original tickets, another tel-op slide (featuring an image of what used to be called the "Merle Hay Plaza"), and a photo of the Plaza on its last day of operation in 1987!

Commercial Popper Catalog, 1929

So the story goes, Myron "Mike" Blank (son of A.H. Blank and the final Blank to run Central States) came up with the notion that popcorn might sell at the movies. That notion paid off, and by the 1920's, popcorn had replaced peanuts as the mainstay of concession food.

Iowa was a natural location for popcorn promotion, and by 1929, National Sales and Manufacturing offered a number of poppers for commercial use, as can be seen in this catalog. (In the very back: one lone peanut roaster for the luddite exhibitors of the movie world!)

I'll post more scans from the catalog in the future--meantime, click on the pix for a bigger view, and enjoy the text (especially the prices in the testimonials!)

Urban in the Suburbs

At 6817 Douglas was the Urban Theater, in--where else?--Urbandale. It's been more difficult to find concrete information about this locale--it appears to have opened around 1952, but I never did find out when it closed as a theater. The location has operated as a dance and gymnastics studio for at least a couple of decades--this photo from 1986 still shows traces of the Moderne style it was built in, with glass bricking on the left, and the unused one-sheet frame on the right. Nowadays, the façade looks very different--the makeover has placed a cloth or plastic awning where the marquee once was. (If anybody has more info on the Urban--which supposedly also ran as the Bijou at some point--I'd be grateful.)

Free passes to the Capitol D.I.!

Mildewed, torn, and probably unnecessary at this point, here are two free passes to the Capitol Drive-in! Just load up your car, head north to NE 14th and Broadway, hang a quick left, and drive on in. Unfortunately, the only movie you're likely to see is a frame or two of the Coming Attractions trailer, if you poke around the bushes long enough. (Come to think of it, even these passes won't get you in...they haven't been signed by the manager! Give Lloyd Hirstine or Jack Shriner a jingle and see if they can set you up...)

Mrs. Jordan, Silent Picture Accompanist

No photo today, but instead a story:

Caroline Jordan was a very pretty and nice old widow on my paper route, back in the mid-1970s. She lived in a house on University Avenue, across from and less than half a block east from the Capri Theater. I saw her every 2 weeks for collection, and sometimes more than that in winter, when I would shovel her walks, porch, and driveway. Sometimes I would stay and we would chat.

As it turns out, she was quite the piano player. We sat down at the keyboards and traded songs for a while, and I mentioned how impressive she was, wondering if she had ever played professionally. And, she replied, she had.

"I used to accompany the silent pictures in movie theaters," she said. "I knew all the themes, and could switch from one to another very quickly, depending on what was going on on the screen--there was a fast piece I played for the chase scenes, a melancholy piece for the sad scenes..."

This was during my film-collecting days (the Blackhawk catalog and Film Collector's World were my reading staples), so I was intrigued--but this was about a decade before my Lost Cinemas obsession took hold, so I didn't think to ask her where it was that she played as an accompanist. My guess would be one of the many downtown theatres, since most of the "nabes" didn't pop up until the sound era came in. Unless someone remembers her and tells me what they know, I can only guess where she played, as I'm sure she is long since gone.

(There was another Lost Cinemas widow on my paper route--in fact, she lived literally just around the corner from us at 39th and University, but didn't subscribe to the paper, so I didn't get to know her: she was the widow of either Elbert or Getchell, the two fellows that launched the Nickeldome and the Princess, among several others. You never know what interesting people there might be in your neighborhood...)

More 'State Fair' with Great Uncle Leo

Another one of Leo Satterlee's photos from the "State Fair" premiere party he crashed in the summer of 1945, at the Hotel Fort Des Moines (itself a Lost Cinema location--the spot was once home to the Airdome, an open-air "walk-in" theater, from 1909 to 1913). Once again, he's showing off his crops to a Hollywood star. "I had no idea who she was", said Leo, and it is difficult to tell exactly who this is. She resembles the lead actress, Jeanne Crain, but Crain was not in town for the premiere, and this certainly doesn't appear to be blonde Carole Landis, child star Peggy Ann Garner (seen in my trailer, getting off from an amusement ride on Grand), nor cave-woman Jo-Carroll Dennison. If any readers can clue me in, please do!

Also not at the show, ironically, was "State Fair" actress Fay Bainter, who was a regular lead over at Elbert and Getchell's legit operation, The Princess, from 1914 to 1916.

Premiere day was jammed with activity all day and night--the street carnival began at 10am; live radio coverage with Ted Malone began at 10:45 live from 6th and Grand; lunch with the stars and Governor Blue at the hotel at noon; star appearances at the Vets hospital at 2; Peggy Ann Garner entertaining kids at the Sister Kenny cottage at 2:30; a WAC style show at the Younkers Tearoom with Carole Landis; a parade on Locust at 6; "Miss Des Moines" chosen at 7; stars' appearance at 6th and Grand at 8, followed by the premiere itself at both the Des Moines and Paramount theaters, with onstage appearances in both locations.

S.E. 14th Street Drive In Ticket - 1987

From near the end of its run, this is what passed for admission tickets to the last drive-in to remain open in Des Moines. The $3.50 price seems pretty good for the late 80s even now.

This ozoner opened as the Des Moines Drive In at 6000 SE 14th Street in 1948 (the first in town), and lasted until 1998, when it was torn down (despite solid business) to make way for a Menard's outlet.

Des Moines Theater on Grand, 1930

Watch the clip: Des Moines Theater, 1930

A short animation I created, using 4 still photographs from the collection of Bill Volkmer, who graciously consented to let me use them. (Much of his collection of trolley photos can be seen online at: Des Moines Railway) The marquee headliner, All Quiet On The Western Front, dates the view as 1930.

I especially am proud of the little guy on the other side of the avenue, walking up the street with his shadow!

President Program, 1930

By 1928, the Garrick was a short-lived experiment as a burlesque house, and was then leased by a New York-based actor named Bronson, who re-christened the venue The President, with initial plans to stage musicals 2 days a week. Actress Frances Dale (who had a small part in the movie "King of Kings" in 1927) was headliner and spokesperson--in the pamphlet, she encourages patrons to leave feedback on a small coupon in the back pages.

Among performers who trod the President's boards: Ed Wynn, W.C. Fields, Fred and Adele Astaire, Sarah Bernhardt, Lewis Stone, Leo Carillo, Sophie Tucker, and the Marx Brothers.

Check out the map on the right--the hotel on the same block is still called the Majestic (the President's original monicker), and in the lower left, the late institution that was the downtown Younkers can be seen.

The President enjoyed a decade-long run, closing and being demolished in 1938, to make way for a parking lot.

A 'State Fair' Encounter With Uncle Leo

My apologies for the quality of this--it's a photocopy of a photo print, from the autobiography of my great uncle, Leo Myron Satterlee.

He explains:
"[This picture shows] Jean Hersholt [on right] and myself, taken at a hotel in Des Moines where there was a party in progress for Mr. Hersholt and a group of stars who were there for the premiere of a motion picture ["State Fair"]. He was an old time character actor that went back to the silent picture days. I was living in Norwalk at the time, and heard him being interviewed on the radio. He stated that he had not seen any of Iowa's famous corn. It was dark. I went out to the field, felt around and got a good sized sack of sweet corn. I took Jessie [his wife], Marie, and Leonard [their kids] with me, and took the corn to the hotel where the party was still in progress...I told the man at the door what I had. They took all of us to the party. Took all kinds of pictures, and asked me to come back the next day to the depot, where they were leaving on the train, with more corn. More pictures were taken. At the party the lady star had on one of those topless dresses that had no visible means of support. Leonard whispered to his mother, "That lady don't have enough clothes on."

At some point, I'll post a couple more Leo stories--another short one about the State Fair premiere, and a wonderful anecdote about the Garrick (a.k.a. the Majestic, Orpheum, and President, at 210 8th) during its wild, woolly days as a burlesque house.

River Hills Tel-Op Slide

This is what most of my slides look like unrestored--I do in fact have a restored version of this, but somehow this distressed original has more character to it, even if the colors are nearly too faded to boost. Side note: unlike most slides mounted for home use, these were mounted between squares of glass, with silver reflective coating on each side, and tape around the edge--built tough for repeated use.

Another Majestic View

Another, presumably earlier, view of the Majestic at 210-8th, with a considerably less ambitious marquee. At this stage of the game, the Majestic appears only to be emphasizing itself as a live vaudeville venue. In later years, as the President and the Garrick, the Majestic returned to a generally all-live format before its final closure in the late 1930's.

Early View of the Majestic

At 210-8th, the Majestic ran live acts and features continuously from 1pm to 11pm, 15 cents for a matinee, 25 cents for an evening show ("Des Moines' Greatest Amusement Value!". This was one of Kip Elbert and Jack Getchell's original three venues (the other two being the Unique on Locust, and the legit Princess on 4th), until it became part of the Orpheum circuit, then diving into a brief stint as a burlesque house (as The Garrick), and finally as an all-legit house, The President, which lasted until its destruction in 1938.

A Dainty Program at the Garden

The Garden's marquee/logo makes its appearance in this 1919 ad from the Capitol--the most notable elements here being the Hawaiian photodrama (that's WWI code for "color slide show") and the "famous orchestra and pipe organ" promised for accompaniment. (I remember the late Dick Kraemer at ISU in Ames having no less than 3 movie theatre pipe organs lying disassembled around his house--what theatres they were from I don't know. And what happened to his movie and memorabilia collection I also don't know--ISU was hinting he will it to them!)

Marguerite Clark, then a big star who made 40 films in 7 years but largely unremembered today, is described twice in the copy as "dainty"--a favorite term of the period. (Ads for downtown restaurants at that time even described the dishes as "dainty"!)

Aw Shucks, It's The Pioneer Drive-In

The Pioneer roadside marquee, with "Drive-In" painted out and Shucks Popcorn being shucked on the marquee face. This is circa 1986, about a year after closing, with the screen, projection booth, and sign still relatively intact at its 2099 S.E. 14th Street location.

The Pioneer opened in August of '59 (rather late in the season to open), and continued through 1985. (Check earlier posts to see tickets and a tel-op slide!)