The Old Romina
By Phillip White
Mother
worked for Jigs Goforth in his Soda Shop beside the Romina Theatre
in Forest City. (It later became Bo's Snack Shop, owned by Bo Sisk.)
She would take me to work with her when I was a small baby, put me
at the end of the counter in a box and customers would pick and play
with me while she fixed their orders. She said the first word I
spoke was “cherrymash”—Cherry
Smash, a fountain drink of the time. This would be 1943-45.
Later
in the early 1950's mother would go to work at 7:00 a.m. and take
me with her. I would wait until 7:30 and then walk to Forest City
Elementary School. After school I walked back to town and waited
on her to get off work at 4:00 p.m. and rode home with her.
The Snack Shop didn't have a restroom, but they had a key to
the theatre and employees would go to the restroom in there. (Of course,
you would just have to hold it if you were busy with customers.)
Also, cups, napkins, straws and other supplies for the Shop
were stored in a room under the stage of the theater.
One of the small glass panes was missing in one of
the double glass doors going into the theater lobby, but I was
small enough to squeeze through and get inside without
unlocking the door. Perishables were kept in small quantities in
the Snack Shop. Bo
kept larger
quantities at his house or would run to the Forest City Packing Company
or Dalton Paper or Forest City Ice Plant as needed.
My brothers
David and Tim and I all took our turns working there as we got
older. I worked as a curb hop about 1955-56 and remember bringing
a big tray of burgers and drinks out to a bunch of guys in a '47
Ford. The driver's window was down about two inches and sometimes
I would hook the curb tray on the window as the customer rolled it
down. This driver was waving and hollering
but I thought he was just joking with the rest of the group—well,
the window glass fell out and dumped the whole tray in the driver's
lap. No tip!
On the
other side of the theatre ticket booth was another store, Brit Hines
Jewelry. Brit was married to Euzelia Spurlin,
sister of Matthew Yates Spurlin of Cliffside, my father-in-law.
J.W. Griffin Sr. ran the theater and Mrs. Griffin sold tickets.
She was a nice lady and I would dig sassafras roots for
her to brew tea with. At one time you could pay for admission with
nine Brock candy bar wrappers. (This was the beginning of dumpster
diving.)
I remember going to a
movie about 1947 and Joe Louis had just won a title fight that night
and people were talking about hearing it on the radio. Blackie Allen
worked there and would walk down the aisles with a flashlight and
pop your feet if you had them propped up on the seat in front of
you, and admonish any overly-romantic couples.
Posey Lynch was the projectionist.
The week's movies would come from Charlotte by Carolina Trailways
bus in the morning and would be set out on the sidewalk in front
of the theatre. I hung out around town while mother was working and
Posey would give me a dime to help him carry the film canisters
up to the projection booth—a lot of steps. Movies would be
in reel cans with 3-4 reels in each can. (Posey had congestive heart
failure and at the time got very winded climbing the steps. He didn't
know what ailed him. He died a few years later )
I was a street kid around town, and I went to the movies
almost everytime the picture changed and to every Saturday matinee.
Of course on Saturday I couldn't miss one of the “continueds” that
ran in serial episodes: Rocket
Man, The Hurricane Express, Captain Midnight. Plus the features with Lash LaRue,
The Durango Kid, Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers, Red Ryder and Little
Beaver, and, straight from the Melody Ranch, Gene Autry. Also the
East Side Kids (or Bowery Boys) with Huntz Hall and Leo Gorcey, Bud
Abbott and Lou Costello, Martin and Lewis and any war movie.
Across
the street was the Grace Theater. I believe it had been called Horn's
and then later was named The Pastime.