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Written by Elizabeth Martin
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Wednesday, 01 June 2011 13:13 |
For the first 25 years of my existence, the movie theatre business was at the center of my life. My family’s history in the cinema industry dates back to the Silent Film Era, in fact, the Nickelodeon Era. My grandfather, Thomas Alexander (Alexopoulos), and his business partner and brother-in-law, Louis Marinos, opened their first theatre in Luzerne in 1908.
 These were two immigrants from Greece who had the wherewithal, vision, guts, and work ethic to swim against the establishment tide and become respected business leaders in their community.
By the time I came along both of these men were long gone. To me they existed as storybook heroes of sorts- iconic figures and pioneers who I just happened to be accidentally related to. My dad, Peter, and his brothers, as well as their cousins, continued the theatre legacy in Luzerne, Forty Fort, and Wyoming. Up until the mid-1970s, my exposure to cinema was strictly of the indoor variety– “conventional theatres”– as they were called.
But in late 1977 my dad observed that drive-in theatres were enjoying a bit of a renaissance after nearly a decade of steady decline.
The lease on the Dallas Drive-in on Route 309 was set to run out, and the current manager was not interested in renewing. My dad smelled an opportunity. With so much needed renovation and prep work, my parents and I got the theatre ready to open in May of 1978. Admission was
$5 per carload. That was enough to get as many people you could cram into a Dodge Dart (trunk included) and enjoy a double feature– generally of the sci-fi/horror genre.
The snack bar featured everything you’d expect, from popcorn, candy, and soda, to ice cream, hamburgers, hot dogs, and French fries. My dad’s sausage or meatball hoagies were classics and most likely were the gateway to my lifelong struggle of being waistline challenged.
The concept of the drive-in was simple. It was a fun, safe, and inexpensive way to enjoy a night out with family and/or friends. It was summer. It was the 1970s. It was Dallas, Pennsylvania. What better way to spend a Friday or Saturday night?
Of course we had our challenges. One of the great drive-in “sports” was drinking. This was to be expected, but occasionally things could get out of hand. The first line of defense was the ramp boy, generally a muscle-bound gentleman whose job it was to maintain the grounds, watch for cars attempting to forgo the admission process, and on occasion, handle the guy who had enjoyed too many Stegmaiers and felt compelled to lean on his horn when there was a hot and heavy make-out scene on screen. Once in a while, the boys in blue had to be called in.
My dad oversaw the theatre’s operations, which included booking the films. My mom ran the concession stand. My job was to pick up all the food at area distributors each week and get it into our deep freezers. I also popped the popcorn at the Forty Fort Theatre and transported it in large bags to the warmer at the Dallas Drive-in. I’d alternate working the box office and helping my mom at the snack bar. At Forty Fort I was the stand-in projectionist. I never learned to run the projectors at Dallas. In retrospect, I can only assume this was intentional. Once you learn to do everything, people expect you to do everything. My plate was more than full. I needed to have at least a smidgen of a social life, which I actually managed to sneak in. Many of the people who worked the drive-in were fellow alumni from Dallas Senior High School. Some of those people I remain close with today.
By 1983, my dad had had enough. I wanted to keep going, but his health had declined and we called it quits. The Dallas Drive-in never reopened after that. The projection and concession equipment were auctioned off.
Though the history may not be quite as long or rich as my days at the Forty Fort Theatre, operating the Dallas Drive-in came with its own set of wonderful memories. I often think of those images of a bygone era flickering on a giant outdoor screen under a starlit sky and wonder if my grandfather had any idea about the seeds he planted 70 years earlier.
Tom Alexander is a writer/broadcaster/composer living in South Florida. To learn more about his family’s history in the Wyoming Valley’s cinema industry, visit www.alexanderproductions.com/fortyfortfilms.
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