Remembering The Patapsco Theater

 As I was making my way to my mom's house earlier today for my regular Saturday visit, I found myself sitting at a red light across from the old Patapsco Movie Theater. The nostalgia gears began to turn and quickly transported me back to the days of my youth.

Growing up in the South Baltimore neighborhood of Brooklyn, this old movie house provided me with many days of cinematic bliss. It was common to meet up with my friends on any Saturday afternoon to catch the latest attraction. There was usually an opening movie (aka a "B" movie) prior to the the main attraction. Some of these warm-up flicks were as good or sometimes even better than the feature film.

As you approached the marquee of the theater, you would pay the entrance fee to the "ticket lady" who sat inside of a small booth just outside the main entrance. You would conduct your transaction through a louvered piece of metal that was attached to the middle of the thick plate glass window. The actual money/ticket exchange was made through a scalloped steel dish at the bottom of the window. 

If I recall correctly, the admission was something like 75 cents for anyone 12 or under and $1.50 for "adults". When I was 10 years old, I can remember getting into an argument with the ticket lady after she wanted me to pay the full adult price. But I wasn't having any of that. After all, I was only 10 years old! She was adamant that I pay the full price because I looked older than 12 years old. I tried to reason with her, even going as far as humiliating myself in front of my friends and explaining that I was "husky" (this was how my mom used to candy-coat the fact that I was over-weight). Admittedly, I was bigger than most kids my age. But I still shouldn't have to pay the 12+ price.

Nowadays, 75 cents versus a buck fifty might not seem like that big of a deal. But back then, it was the difference between a small box of Mike & Ike's and a jumbo tub of buttered popcorn. And there was no way that this husky guy was going to make it through a double feature with no popcorn. So, I held my ground and continued to plead my case with the ticket lady. She finally offered me a compromise. She would let me through for the under-12 price. However, I would have to bring my birth certificate with me the next time to prove my age. I took the deal. For the next two years, any time I wanted to see a movie, I stuffed my proof-of-age document into the back pocket of my husky-size Toughskins.

But once I was inside of the theater, all my problems went away. The lobby of the theater was spacious, offering plenty of room to mingle with your friends before the show. After a quick stop at the concession stand, you would make your way into the cinema to find the perfect seat. As a symmetrical guy, I always preferred a seat somewhere in the middle of the room.

I can remember seeing "Jaws" in this movie house in 1975. In fact, I went back and saw it several more times before it's run ended. And every time, it seemed just as exciting as the first. I also watched "The Outlaw Josey Wales" along with other classic westerns. I can remember the hype over a horror movie called "It's Alive". It was about a killer baby. It seemed so scary at the time but it was actually one of the worst movies ever made. Speaking of bad movies, there was also a movie called "Tentacles" that I saw here. It was about a giant killer octopus. The creators were obviously trying to piggyback on the success of "Jaws" but it didn't work. 

And even though you had to sit through an occasional dud, it really wasn't so bad. After all, for those of us who grew up without air conditioning, a comfortable seat in a climate-controlled movie theater was a treat within itself.

As the years progressed, the multiplex cinemas began to take off and the single-theater movie houses began to disappear. In 1977, the Patapsco Theater closed it's doors for good and was soon converted into a social services center. Today, it houses some type of church.

My trip down memory lane ended abruptly as the driver behind me tooted his horn. The traffic light at 6th and Patapsco had turned green and it was time to move on. The old movie theater quickly faded from my rear-view mirror but it's memories will always be there....

kw

Back in the 60/70's...

Modern day....