Found this interesting tidbit about the Spruce Drive In, if you haven’t seen it.
A quote from Kerry Segrave’s book “Drive-In Theatres” – A history from their inception in 1933 (published by McFarland & Co 1992):–
One of the attempts to air condition the great ourdoors was seen in 1953 at Phoenix, AZ, Cinema Park Drive-In. A number of fouteen foot poles were installed on the lot. Each was topped by vertically mounted propeller blades behind water pipes containing tiny holes. With the blades whirring around, water was forced up the pipes, out of the holes, and then blown across the lot in the form of a fine mist. It caused the temperature to drop, said the marketers, several degrees. A few years later a similar invention was announced. Again it was a tall pole with baldes mounted on top, horizontally this time. The idea was to circulate the air, thus lowering the humidity. Models were said to be available especially to control fog and mist as well as humidity. These units called “Fogmaster” and “Weathermaster”, could operate successfully over several acres or more. Another feature touted was that it helped overcome the mosquito nuisance. Presumably they blew them away!
This article has a picture of the Tyler Theatre in December 1962. The film showing was “It’s Only Money” with Jerry Lewis. The auditorium to the left of the entrance can be clearly seen along with some of its streamline facade. The portion to the left was the back of the auditorium. the bathrooms were above the lobby.
The Tyler was the biggest theatre in the city, one of three on the downtown square, the Arcadia and Liberty were the other two.
The Tyler had a small lobby for its size. The snack bar faced you as you went in. To the right and curving around to the left and behind the snack bar was the stairway to the balcony with a “reststop” about midway up. There was enough room for a couple of chairs or you could look down over the rail into the lobby.When I saw “The Fly” there there was a chair and table with a mannequin sitting in it at the “rest stop”. The mannequin’s hand was covered with a cloth and a sign asked if you “dared to see the horror of the Fly”. When the cloth was lifted the mannequin’s hand was wrapped with a cheap piece of fur.
The bathrooms were above the lobby. Past the bathrooms was the entrance to the balcony. On the main floor, to the left of the snack bar was an entrance to a “walkway” than ran the width of the auditorium with two aisle entrances on the right into the auditorium. Between the doors into the auditorium were “Windows” covered with velvet drapes. You could part the drapes and look into the auditorium. There was seating in the walkway.
In the mid 1950s my Saturdays were spent in downtown Tyler going from one theatre to another with the dollar I was given. I usually went to the Tyler first. They had a “kiddie Matinee” for 10 cents – sometimes free if your brought in 10 coke bottle caps. My favorite was the “Old Yeller” kiddie matinee. You were admitted free if you brought your dog. Sounded good on paper I guess, but with a theatre of dogs and kids it was pandemonium. My dog Skippy managed to wiggle out of his collar and I spent most of the movie trying to catch him.
One of the films I most remember at the Tyler was a “special presentation” of a film called “Thrillarama” in 1956. It was a poor man’s version of Cinerama with a specially installed curved widescreen. It utilized both 35 mm cameras that already existed at all theatres instead of the three required to be installed for Cinerama. There was a join line down the middle of the presentation where the dual projection of both cameras running at once met. After a scant few presentations the film disappeared. It probably would have never played in Tyler except one of the sequences was a performance of the “Apache Belles”, an all girl sports support precision group that performed at sports functions representing Tyler, Tx. More info can be found about Thrillarama at the below webwsite
I also remember going to see “Love me Tender” with Elvis Presley in 1956 with my mother and aunt who used me as their “beard” so they wouldn’t be seen as two silly middle aged women going to see Elvis Presley unescorted.
I also remember getting a “free glass slipper” with the purchase of a Coke when I went to Cinderella. It was actually plastic and I kept it for years.
I stopped in Tyler in 1983 on a trip back to Texas. The Arcadia and Tyler were closed. The Liberty was still open, showing Latino films. the Tyler was still intact and for sale at the time. I have pictures, including one of the lobby, I will be posting to flickr as soon if I can fever igure out how to do it.
It is incredibly sad to see the current photos with the auditorium gone and a shabby remnant of the entrance and marquee only remaining. I wonder what idiot thought that was a good idea. It is no more than an eyesore and might as well be demolished lest it remind people of what once existed there and is now lost forever.
The Article was from 2003 so I imagine much has changed since then.
I used to go to this theatre as well as the Tyler and Arcadia in the mid 1950s, mostly on Saturdays. I was given a dollar and could spend the whole day at the three theatres in downtown Tyler. The Liberty showed a lot of the American International double bill horror films. They occasionally had a blockbuster and some of the MGM musicals as well. I saw C. B. DeMille’s “The Ten Commandments” there.
The last film I saw at the Liberty was MGM’s “Les Girls” in 1958 before we moved to Corsicana Texas. The Liberty had the best popcorn. I could smell it outside of the theatre as I walked up to buy a ticket.
I spent my youth in the mid 1950s at the three theatres in downtown Tyler. I couldn’t wait for Saturdays. I got one dollar and walked to downtown Tyler, which was still had a lively downtown. I usually went to the Tyler Theatre first and then on to the Arcadia and Liberty. The Tyler showed most of the first runs and the bigger hits but the Liberty and Arcadia both occasionally ran some of the bigger films. I saw “Around the World in Eighty Days' at the Arcadia. They had installed a temporary big screen in the auditorium for the film. I also saw the cropped version re-release of "The Wizard of Oz” which was sold as “See it in widescreen for the first time”. The rest of the time they had the typical double bill fare of B films – mostly westerns and adventures.
For some reason one of the films I saw there that has always stuck in my mind is “The Saga of the Viking Women and Their Voyage to the Waters of the Great Sea Serpent”. It was advertised not only as a great adventure but also as the film with the longest title ever.
The bathrooms were upstairs and the windows actually opened. I loved to poke my head out of the window. The marquee blocked some of the view but I could still see the town square through the letters.
I’m glad the building has been saved, if not restored as a functioning theatre. It saddens me to see almost all of the lesser theatres gone now, but I understand the economics behind their demise. At least the Shannons have given The Arcadia a second life and a second chance. I think it’s terrific that they are doing this.
I hope one day to take a return trip to Tyler and see the Arcadia again. I guess the green sofa I used to sit on eating my 5 cent pickle while waiting for the movie to start will no longer be in the lobby but it will still be a thrill to see it.
According to the news on May 4th, 2006 the entire downtown of Greensbur, Kansas was completely destroyed by a tornado. This would include the Twilight Theatre.
I love the Castro. There 3-D festival was cool. Hoping they might be able to show “Those Redheads from Seattle”, “Charge at Feather River” “Taza, Son of Cochise” in dual strip since they have recently been restored and will be shown at the upcoming 3-D Film Expo in September at the Egyption in Hollywood.
I do wish they had money to invest in a little clean up at the Castro. The spotlights projected into the auditorium during intermission are quite annoying very unflattering to what is a beautiful inerior and the ceiling design is almost unrecognizable at this point. I imagine any restoration work is probably unaffordable, sadly.
I arrived in San Francisco in 1964, a Texas green horn desperate to get away from the constraints of the bible belt mentality that still ruled the south.
My first job in San Francisco was at Tad’s Steak house up a block from the Powell Theatre. I worked a split shift from 10am until 2pm then back again from 6pm until 10pm. A steak dinner was a dollar for a steak, baked potato, small salad and garlic bread. Coffee was a dime. A bargain even then insured a substantial clinetelle of both residents and tourists.
The Powell Theatre became my afternoon refuge. There were 15 operating movie houses in downtown San Francsico showing everything thing from first run films to 2nd run double bills. Every theatre had daily matinees. The concept of “revival houses” hadn’t started yet but the Powell had a healthy dose of films of the 40s and 50s along with more current 2nd runs. For an admission of 25 cents I was introduced to Hollywood’s “Glory years” . I saw my first Jeanette McDonald Nelson Eddy film there and The Marx brothers sublime lunacy would pop up occasionally. The films changed three times a week so there was always a steady supply of new entertainment.
The theatre box office was a stand alone booth off the street. There was a short slanted walk up into the theatre with displays on either side for a posters of current and coming films. Inside there was a small room with vending machines. No real snack bar – no usher taking your ticket. . The back left of the auditorium still had the remains of a “cry room” a sound proof room with a glass front and side door where noisy infants and their parents could be isolated from the theatre and still watch the film. The glass front and side entrance door had been removed but a portion of the side wall still remained.
I was loyal to the Powell until it’s entrance into pornography. I knew the “end was near” when I went to a midnight screening of “ Beach Blanket Bingo” with two friends and we were the only customers. Shortly after that it switched to porn – then one day was quietly gutted and soon replaced with a “Burger King” which still operates there. No trace of the theatre or its facade remains except in my memory.
Found this interesting tidbit about the Spruce Drive In, if you haven’t seen it.
A quote from Kerry Segrave’s book “Drive-In Theatres” – A history from their inception in 1933 (published by McFarland & Co 1992):–
One of the attempts to air condition the great ourdoors was seen in 1953 at Phoenix, AZ, Cinema Park Drive-In. A number of fouteen foot poles were installed on the lot. Each was topped by vertically mounted propeller blades behind water pipes containing tiny holes. With the blades whirring around, water was forced up the pipes, out of the holes, and then blown across the lot in the form of a fine mist. It caused the temperature to drop, said the marketers, several degrees. A few years later a similar invention was announced. Again it was a tall pole with baldes mounted on top, horizontally this time. The idea was to circulate the air, thus lowering the humidity. Models were said to be available especially to control fog and mist as well as humidity. These units called “Fogmaster” and “Weathermaster”, could operate successfully over several acres or more. Another feature touted was that it helped overcome the mosquito nuisance. Presumably they blew them away!
Phil Gray
This article has a picture of the Tyler Theatre in December 1962. The film showing was “It’s Only Money” with Jerry Lewis. The auditorium to the left of the entrance can be clearly seen along with some of its streamline facade. The portion to the left was the back of the auditorium. the bathrooms were above the lobby.
View link
The Tyler was the biggest theatre in the city, one of three on the downtown square, the Arcadia and Liberty were the other two.
The Tyler had a small lobby for its size. The snack bar faced you as you went in. To the right and curving around to the left and behind the snack bar was the stairway to the balcony with a “reststop” about midway up. There was enough room for a couple of chairs or you could look down over the rail into the lobby.When I saw “The Fly” there there was a chair and table with a mannequin sitting in it at the “rest stop”. The mannequin’s hand was covered with a cloth and a sign asked if you “dared to see the horror of the Fly”. When the cloth was lifted the mannequin’s hand was wrapped with a cheap piece of fur.
The bathrooms were above the lobby. Past the bathrooms was the entrance to the balcony. On the main floor, to the left of the snack bar was an entrance to a “walkway” than ran the width of the auditorium with two aisle entrances on the right into the auditorium. Between the doors into the auditorium were “Windows” covered with velvet drapes. You could part the drapes and look into the auditorium. There was seating in the walkway.
In the mid 1950s my Saturdays were spent in downtown Tyler going from one theatre to another with the dollar I was given. I usually went to the Tyler first. They had a “kiddie Matinee” for 10 cents – sometimes free if your brought in 10 coke bottle caps. My favorite was the “Old Yeller” kiddie matinee. You were admitted free if you brought your dog. Sounded good on paper I guess, but with a theatre of dogs and kids it was pandemonium. My dog Skippy managed to wiggle out of his collar and I spent most of the movie trying to catch him.
One of the films I most remember at the Tyler was a “special presentation” of a film called “Thrillarama” in 1956. It was a poor man’s version of Cinerama with a specially installed curved widescreen. It utilized both 35 mm cameras that already existed at all theatres instead of the three required to be installed for Cinerama. There was a join line down the middle of the presentation where the dual projection of both cameras running at once met. After a scant few presentations the film disappeared. It probably would have never played in Tyler except one of the sequences was a performance of the “Apache Belles”, an all girl sports support precision group that performed at sports functions representing Tyler, Tx. More info can be found about Thrillarama at the below webwsite
View link
I also remember going to see “Love me Tender” with Elvis Presley in 1956 with my mother and aunt who used me as their “beard” so they wouldn’t be seen as two silly middle aged women going to see Elvis Presley unescorted.
I also remember getting a “free glass slipper” with the purchase of a Coke when I went to Cinderella. It was actually plastic and I kept it for years.
I stopped in Tyler in 1983 on a trip back to Texas. The Arcadia and Tyler were closed. The Liberty was still open, showing Latino films. the Tyler was still intact and for sale at the time. I have pictures, including one of the lobby, I will be posting to flickr as soon if I can fever igure out how to do it.
It is incredibly sad to see the current photos with the auditorium gone and a shabby remnant of the entrance and marquee only remaining. I wonder what idiot thought that was a good idea. It is no more than an eyesore and might as well be demolished lest it remind people of what once existed there and is now lost forever.
Phil Gray
I found this (sad) article on the state of the Liberty theatre and the attempts to turn it into a restaurant of sorts.
View link
The Article was from 2003 so I imagine much has changed since then.
I used to go to this theatre as well as the Tyler and Arcadia in the mid 1950s, mostly on Saturdays. I was given a dollar and could spend the whole day at the three theatres in downtown Tyler. The Liberty showed a lot of the American International double bill horror films. They occasionally had a blockbuster and some of the MGM musicals as well. I saw C. B. DeMille’s “The Ten Commandments” there.
The last film I saw at the Liberty was MGM’s “Les Girls” in 1958 before we moved to Corsicana Texas. The Liberty had the best popcorn. I could smell it outside of the theatre as I walked up to buy a ticket.
Phil Gray
I spent my youth in the mid 1950s at the three theatres in downtown Tyler. I couldn’t wait for Saturdays. I got one dollar and walked to downtown Tyler, which was still had a lively downtown. I usually went to the Tyler Theatre first and then on to the Arcadia and Liberty. The Tyler showed most of the first runs and the bigger hits but the Liberty and Arcadia both occasionally ran some of the bigger films. I saw “Around the World in Eighty Days' at the Arcadia. They had installed a temporary big screen in the auditorium for the film. I also saw the cropped version re-release of "The Wizard of Oz” which was sold as “See it in widescreen for the first time”. The rest of the time they had the typical double bill fare of B films – mostly westerns and adventures.
For some reason one of the films I saw there that has always stuck in my mind is “The Saga of the Viking Women and Their Voyage to the Waters of the Great Sea Serpent”. It was advertised not only as a great adventure but also as the film with the longest title ever.
The bathrooms were upstairs and the windows actually opened. I loved to poke my head out of the window. The marquee blocked some of the view but I could still see the town square through the letters.
I’m glad the building has been saved, if not restored as a functioning theatre. It saddens me to see almost all of the lesser theatres gone now, but I understand the economics behind their demise. At least the Shannons have given The Arcadia a second life and a second chance. I think it’s terrific that they are doing this.
I hope one day to take a return trip to Tyler and see the Arcadia again. I guess the green sofa I used to sit on eating my 5 cent pickle while waiting for the movie to start will no longer be in the lobby but it will still be a thrill to see it.
Phil Gray
According to the news on May 4th, 2006 the entire downtown of Greensbur, Kansas was completely destroyed by a tornado. This would include the Twilight Theatre.
I love the Castro. There 3-D festival was cool. Hoping they might be able to show “Those Redheads from Seattle”, “Charge at Feather River” “Taza, Son of Cochise” in dual strip since they have recently been restored and will be shown at the upcoming 3-D Film Expo in September at the Egyption in Hollywood.
I do wish they had money to invest in a little clean up at the Castro. The spotlights projected into the auditorium during intermission are quite annoying very unflattering to what is a beautiful inerior and the ceiling design is almost unrecognizable at this point. I imagine any restoration work is probably unaffordable, sadly.
I arrived in San Francisco in 1964, a Texas green horn desperate to get away from the constraints of the bible belt mentality that still ruled the south.
My first job in San Francisco was at Tad’s Steak house up a block from the Powell Theatre. I worked a split shift from 10am until 2pm then back again from 6pm until 10pm. A steak dinner was a dollar for a steak, baked potato, small salad and garlic bread. Coffee was a dime. A bargain even then insured a substantial clinetelle of both residents and tourists.
The Powell Theatre became my afternoon refuge. There were 15 operating movie houses in downtown San Francsico showing everything thing from first run films to 2nd run double bills. Every theatre had daily matinees. The concept of “revival houses” hadn’t started yet but the Powell had a healthy dose of films of the 40s and 50s along with more current 2nd runs. For an admission of 25 cents I was introduced to Hollywood’s “Glory years” . I saw my first Jeanette McDonald Nelson Eddy film there and The Marx brothers sublime lunacy would pop up occasionally. The films changed three times a week so there was always a steady supply of new entertainment.
The theatre box office was a stand alone booth off the street. There was a short slanted walk up into the theatre with displays on either side for a posters of current and coming films. Inside there was a small room with vending machines. No real snack bar – no usher taking your ticket. . The back left of the auditorium still had the remains of a “cry room” a sound proof room with a glass front and side door where noisy infants and their parents could be isolated from the theatre and still watch the film. The glass front and side entrance door had been removed but a portion of the side wall still remained.
I was loyal to the Powell until it’s entrance into pornography. I knew the “end was near” when I went to a midnight screening of “ Beach Blanket Bingo” with two friends and we were the only customers. Shortly after that it switched to porn – then one day was quietly gutted and soon replaced with a “Burger King” which still operates there. No trace of the theatre or its facade remains except in my memory.
I miss it.
Phil Gray