Rialto memories

By Mat Rapacz

When preparing to write this article, I asked readers for their memories of the Rialto and received the following replies. Nicholas Richie’s letter to the editor, as indicated, was published after the article on the Rialto appeared in The Evening Times.  When the article appeared in The Evening Times (Jan. 14, 1997) it received more reaction (all positive) than any article I had written before or any I have written since.

As a child from a family of six children who lived in rural Little Falls, I have some very pleasant memories of the Rialto Theatre. A trip to the city was special. Our foster father would take us to see every Walt Disney movie matinee that was possible, such as Pollyanna, Shaggy Dog, Parent Trap and so many others that I can’t remember. As we got older our Dad would step up to that wonderful ticket lady whose name was Ann, I think, and pay for the children’s tickets. She just once asked if any of us were over 12 years old? He just said either we all get in for one price or none of us would go. As I remember, she never asked again.

Going to the fancy ladies powder room was also a treat. Of course, you went to the bathroom just once and it was before the movie started. This was located upstairs in back of the balcony so we got to see the older kids who might be up there on our way to the elegant bathroom.

The very first special adult movie I recall was shared with the man who is now my husband. The movie was Dr. Zhivago, and we both enjoyed it so much. Sitting in the plush red seats, plush red carpeting with gold trim and being in the balcony for an evening movie was indeed a special appearance for such a reasonable price.

Today I cannot look at the theatre building in the condition it’s in. Therefore, I just wish it was taken down as it seems past the refurbishing stage.

Patricia E. Haberek, Dolgeville

One of the movies that I recall seeing is Herbie the Love Bug. The long staircase that I had to walk up and down to the hall to the restrooms had always astonished me. When I think of the memories of the Rialto and what made it special to me, I would have to say it was definitely the gorgeous staircase.

Paula Ferenzetti, Little Falls

I worked at the Rialto as an usher plus. I danced on the stage in the days of the Charleston. My brother Michael Brundjar and I danced there as the “Brundjar Twins” I was Julia Brundjar at that time. There was a Charleston contest held. I entered and won a “loving Cup” which I still have. That was January, 1926.

Julia B. O’Brien

I along with many people I’m sure, will be very saddened to see the Rialto come down. It has many nice memories for me. While a student at L.F. High School, I worked at the Rialto. I think it was 1963 or 1964 – I really can’t remember – I worked in the ticket booth and also at the candy counter. It was my very first job. I think I made about $1.65 an hour. Of course the thing I remember most about it was the beautiful staircases with the floral carpeting. It always looked so nice. The big red velvet curtains on the stage and the lighted clock on the stage that we all threw popcorn at to see who could hit it on the “bullseye” – was our entertainment while waiting for the movie. The ushers probably wanted to shoot us! I remember that the theatre was so big – three large sections of seats. Then there was the upstairs balcony which kept the ushers very busy because they had to make sure nobody was “necking.” They actually walked around with flashlights!!

While I worked there I always remember the usher named Bert McGowan who worked there for so long. He was a very nice man and always looked after me to make sure nobody bothered me. In the 60’s candy was 10¢ or 15¢, I think popcorn was 25¢. I remember I had a five lb. bag of unpopped popcorn in my hands and put it in the popcorn machine and someone behind the candy counter hit my arm and it all spilled. They told me just to pick it up and pop it. On Saturday’s they always had matinees for the kids – cartoons, etc. I think that was 25¢. Regular tickets were about 35¢. You could go to the movies for $1 and that included popcorn and candy.

Going to the movies was a different experience than it is these days. All the movies were happy movies.  You always came out in a happy mood. There wasn’t the sex and violence and language that there is now. Being at the theatre was so exciting. It was so big and beautiful. The first time I went in one of the theaters at the Best Western it felt like being locked in a closet compared to the Rialto!

I will really miss the Rialto – it’s always been such a landmark – I wish it had been taken care of like the Stanley Theatre. It will be a very strange to see it gone!! It will really make me sad – one more piece of history gone.

Carol Slabe, Little Falls

The sound of an organ has always drawn me away from a conversation – it had such a beautiful sound. Two young people were dating around fifty some odd years ago and found the greatest joy in listening to Stacy Simpson on the organ at the Rialto Theatre. I could cry even now thinking of it – he was such a fine musician. Half of that loving couple is with our Lord but the other half remains here listening to and playing organ music.

Esther Elwood Loucks, Dolgeville

My first movie was with my mother and father, approximately 1927. The movie was with Harold Lloyd and I remember him hanging on the hands of an outside clock with traffic below. (Editor’s note: the film was a silent called “Safety Last”) The first name of the theater was “Gateway” and a letter G is over the stage. Inside on the front of the building is an inscription showing what appears to be a gate and I believe it’s still there. Going into the theatre on the right was a small candy store run by Mrs. McGraw and her husband Dan. On the left was a hair salon and later a liquor store run by Tim Sheehan.

Inside was a staircase on each side leading to the balcony. In the front of the balcony was a place they called the loge, with plush wicker chairs, which cost extra. The higher up seats were a lot harder and we called them “n—–” heaven seats.

I went every Saturday when I had the money, 15¢. The big calling card was the serial which was “to be continued” when the hero was about to go over the cliff. The big attractions were “Rin Tin Tin,” Errol Flynn, Harry Carey, Tom Mix, Buck Jones, Fred Thompson, and movies “White Christmas,” “Gone With the Wind,” and a lot of musicals.

Years ago, the pictures depicted the scenes in writing and, later on, Vitaphone came in. Also, an organ player was used to provide the sound by playing appropriate sounds according to what was playing on the screen. His name as I recall was Simpson and he lived above the library location in a big yellow mansion.

John F. Nagle, Little Falls

Your reporter mentioned that in 1955, a Sherman Tank paraded down Main Street to advertise the Audie Murphy movie To Hell and Back. That was just one publicity stunt attempted that year in a desperate attempt to compete with the increasing popularity of television, which was causing a significant drop in movie box office revenues. Sometimes, things did not go as planned.

For example, in conjunction with the presentation of The Seven Year Itch, an attractive young woman was hired to ride in the back of an open Cadillac convertible down Main Street, throwing candy kisses labeled “A Kiss From Marilyn” to the bystanders. Unfortunately, the young woman hired to impersonate Marilyn Monroe was a brunette. The assistant manager was sent scurrying at the last minute to find a blond wig for her. In those days, wigs were neither as realistic nor as readily available as today. At last, he located a blond wig from a mannequin in Penney’s. It was stiff and very artificial-looking, more like the end of a broom. But to her credit, the young woman gamely went along with it all, smiling and waving with a head full of “straw.”

When the latest Francis the Talking Mule movie arrived, the management hired a mule from a local farmer. It was outfitted with signs on its back advertising the movie and paraded up and down Main Street. Much to our embarrassment, it made a mess wherever it went and I feared cleaning up after it would be one of the many all-purpose duties given to ushers. Fortunately for me, someone else handled that.

Lastly, the arrival of the heavily-promoted Davie Crockett created mass chaos at its premier show on a Saturday afternoon. Every kid in the valley must have been there because all the seats were filled, and some were even sitting in the aisles. I was in fear that the fire chief would close us down for overcrowding. Instead, we had another fire-related problem. Out in the lobby, the management had hung a number of animal skins around the walls to add to the “coonskin” theme of Davie Crockett. The skins were valuable, and had been borrowed from a local leather factory. Unfortunately, one of them was placed inside a recessed lighting fixture where it touched a hot light bulb. The ticket seller saved the day by reporting the smell of smoke quickly enough for the manager to remove the fur without having to call the fire department and evacuate the building. The kids would have rioted if the movie had been interrupted that day.

Nicholas D. Richie, Delray Beach, Fla.