The Sunday Memory Drawer - Movie Theaters Of My Childhood

Growing up in Mount Vernon, New York as a young movie fan, I've frequently written about the two glorious movie palaces that were in town.  Loews' on Stevens Avenue and RKO Proctor's around the corner on Gramatan Avenue.   These venues had several levels of seating.   Loews' had a huge lobby where the smell of fresh popcorn tantalized your senses.   RKO always had the hot dogs spinning under that light bulb at the candy counter.

These are sensations that I will never forget.   But, truth be told, I was actually spoiled.   Besides these cinematic masterpieces, we also had the choice of several other movie houses to frequent.   Most were neighborhood theaters that you could walk to.   Often, they were simply stuck in the middle of some other stores.  Some had seen better days and were starting to look a little dilapidated.  
But, all of them were as much a part of my childhood as Remco toys and the Grimes Elementary School.   I longed to visit all of them.

The Kimball Theater in Yonkers, but close enough for us to walk to from South 15th Avenue where I lived.   This was a small little movie house.  You had to walk up a narrow staircase to get to the bathroom.   One person could use it at a time.   A lot of the seats had springs sticking out of them.   And the Kimball generally played second-run double features.

But, on Saturday afternoons, the place was special.  It was a kids' matinee.  The first movie was always an old Abbott and Costello feature.   In between, some theater employee would get up on the little stage and raffle off a prize.  Mostly they were Colorforms play sets donated by the toy store up the street.   If you were really lucky, the big prize would be a bicycle.   PS, I never won a thing.  Once the loot was dispensed, the house lights would dim and we'd see a monster movie that had probably been made ten years earlier.   Usually some lizard eating some part of Tokyo.

It was all so simple.  And rundown.  And, somehow, magical.  As I got older, the Kimball would serve as the place where I could see movies that I had missed because I was...ahem...studying.  

Noteworthy films I remember seeing at the Kimball?  Woody Allen's "Bananas."  "The Odd Couple" with Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau for the second time as I had seen it with my dad while on vacation in Atlantic City.  And the rarely discussed and completely underrated "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying."

If you think the Kimball looks like a dump in the photo above, it's even worse since a couple of homeless bums almost burned it to the ground a few years back.   Rumor has it that the place will be torn down to build a small condo complex.

Ah, the Wakefield.  Under the elevated tracks near the corner of 233rd Street and White Plains Road in the Bronx.   This wasn't exactly within walking distance for me as a kid since there were major "big" streets that I wasn't allowed to cross by myself.   But, for a couple of years with one of my parents in tow, it was a popular destination on a rainy Sunday afternoon.  

This theater was a little bigger than the Kimball, but it had an odd configuration.   You had the box office window in the front.   Then you made a right turn and walked up this long ramp/hallway to the candy counter.   Then you made a left turn into the theater which was facing in the opposite direction.   Again, another winding staircase up to a single bathroom, which could accommodate one at a time.

Of course, with its proximity to the subway, your movie soundtrack was usually punctuated every five minutes with the train zooming by outside.  After a while, you didn't even notice.  You were completely focused on the big screen.   And, usually, our post-movie meal was some tasty pizza at the Sorrento Italian Restaurant a block away.  

Noteworthy movies I remember seeing at the Wakefield?  "The Guns of Navarone" with my dad, of course.  For some reason, I remember one of those slight Jimmy Stewart family comedies, "Take Her She's Mine" at the Wakefield.  And, when we were a bit older and able to cross the big streets, the then X-rated "Midnight Cowboy" with my childhood best bud Leo.  By the way, he would want me to note that his uncle owned the shoe repair store in the picture.

Years later, the Wakefield really fell apart.  It started to play a lot of those Kung Fu and Superfly-like black gangster movies.   Take a look at this ad and you'll see what was playing at the Wakefield this week.

For a while, it became a church.   Now I think it's a bargain store of some kind.   Meanwhile, the train is still there.   Zipping by every five minutes.

And then there was the Kent on McLean Avenue in Yonkers, just past the Bronx border.   It was a long, long, long walk to the Kent from my house in Mount Vernon, New York.  For some reason, my parents never took me there when I was a kid.

"No place to park."

That would be my dad's gripe.   But, when I was older, I decided to see just how long that walk was.   I really wanted to see this comedy called "Lovers and Other Strangers."  The only place it was playing on a cold Sunday afternoon was the Kent.  I piled on my ski jacket and gloves and prepped for the trek as if I was attacking Mount Fuji in the dead of winter.   It took me an hour but I ultimately got to enjoy that film there.   And the sense of grown-up accomplishment warmed me all the way home.

Once we realized the journey wasn't that arduous, the Kent was a great hangout for us teenagers.   It was a small house but it still somehow managed to have a balcony.   During the hot and humid summer months, you really hoped there was a movie you wanted to see at the Kent.   Their air conditioning system was just short of an Antarctic winter.  

Movies I remember at the Kent?  Most notably, the terrific "Airport" with my neighborhood pal Dolores.   "The Out-of-Towners" starring Jack Lemmon and Sandy Dennis.   I'm sure there were others, but the one thing you couldn't miss seeing at the Kent?   There was a huge illuminated clock courtesy of the local bank right next to the screen.   At the Kent, you always knew what time it was.   Especially if you had to be home by a certain hour.

Today, the Kent is...

Almost as far a walk but still managing to be in Mount Vernon, the Parkway Theater was in the furthest reaches of the city.   As far as we were concerned on the south side of town, the Parkway might as well have been on Uranus.  

It didn't necessarily look like a movie palace.  There was no marquee.  It had this 50s space age type design.  But, oddly enough, when you plunked down your buck or two and then passed by the candy stand, it was small yet elegant.   I remember that the seats in the Parkway reclined a little.  Wow, I had never experienced that before.

Unlike the other theaters I've discussed today, there was a nice bathroom downstairs in the Parkway.  As a matter of fact, there was quite the smoker's lounge with sofas and rocketship-like chairs that looked like they came over from the Mike Douglas TV show.

So, while the other Mount Vernon theaters got the major studio fare, the Parkway seemed to pick up all the art films when I was a kid.   That's probably why we didn't go there much, although I am guessing that my mom looked longingly at that smokers' lair.

The very first memory I have of actually going to the Parkway was on my birthday when, oddly enough, the theater was featuring the first-run "Mary Poppins."  It was a cold February night and I recall my mom there along with one or two school pals and their mothers.  I would imagine that my mother went downstairs for at least one break that evening. 

Other films I remember from the Parkway?  The complete opposite experience many years later when I first saw "The Exorcist" there.  And, even later on, the Parkway treated me to "Ferris Bueller's Day Off."  Indeed, the Parkway was the theater that lasted longer than any of the other childhood theaters I loved.  But, even it had to die.

And be converted into a...wait for it...funeral parlor.

Death all over again.

Dinner last night:  Turkey reuben at Blue Plate.