And now for a little historical fiction––
The month of March, 1929, had spring springing upon us and I found myself with one of those typical, nothing to do Saturdays that tend to present themselves in Placerville. The small strip of lawn was cut before my little bungalow on Locust Street and there was nothing else more pressing to do but to put my feet up and read a book or listen to the radio. However, the sun was out and the day was pretty, so I figured I’d walk down to Main Street and poke around––perhaps have a sandwich at the Blue Bell. I had a half idea of buying a new suit at Combellack’s––the excuse being that I was going to attend the American Legion Club show at the Elite Theater coming up in April and it would be a perfect event for trying out a new suit. So, down my little hill that emptied out on to Main Street I strolled. Combellack’s was at the other end of Main Street, so I took my time, looking in the windows of the shops along the way.
After creaking through Hangtown Hardware to see if anything was new and say hello to a clerk, George, who went to the football games with me sometimes, I spied the Miller’s Barber Shop across the street and decided that I should get a haircut since I wasn’t quite ready for lunch yet. I lucked out and got a seat right off the bat. Miller was in a happy mood, as the whole Main Street seemed to be since spring had blossomed early. “Oh, we might have some more rain before it’s all over I imagine,” said Miller, in his lazy way. “It’s a little windy, but nice,” I returned. We talked about how the time the El Dorado High football team beat Grass Valley 18 to zero and how he was planning on going to Ray Marr’s Baseball Club game on Sunday. He also had the news on the Legion show; Roger Brown had been in for a hair cut and told Miller all about it. Les Butts had written some comedy sketches and Miller thought that Butts usually did a good job, relating one that he remembered as particularly funny from the last show. There was to be a playlet called “Other People’s Husbands,” that Miller didn’t know anything about. “Sounds like the Women will get a kick out of that one,” I supposed. There would also be a radio broadcast novelty with musical numbers. I asked Miller if he had seen the movie running at the Elite that week. He shrugged and said that he thought the Elite should go over to soundies like the theaters in Sacramento and described a sound comedy with songs he had seen at the Orpheum along with a bill of vaudeville.
All cleaned up and fresh, I walked by the Elite Theater and looked at the movie posters and considered the show times. Maybe I’d see the movie in the evening if I could rustle up a friend, but I would probably keep to my plan of going stag to the Shakespeare Club dance. Then I wondered if I should premier the new suit at the dance rather than wait for the Legion show. Rather than make a decision, I wandered across the street, past the Bell Tower to the Placerville News Company. They had some new records and I thought about getting one, but put it back. Instead I picked up a copy of the Sacramento Union to read at the lunch counter over at the Blue Bell. Just as I came out of the store there was hustle and bustle across at the Elite. Black smoke was coming out of the second story windows!
The volunteer fire department was screaming down the street, horns were honking as cars swerved to get out of the way. Everyone came out of their shops to see what was going on. Apparently the Graystone Hotel next door was on fire too. Amazingly, the wind carried sparks and cinders over Main Street and the awnings of the Placerville News Company caught fire. I quickly moved up the street towards the hardware store to keep out of the way. The fire eating the awnings was extinguished and the News was saved, but the Elite Theater was badly burned, even though the fire had been brought under control in an hour. The hotel suffered damages, but was standing. Poor W. E. Miller––to think I had been sitting in his barber chair just moments before the fire broke out. His business was lost. Also lost was the next door shoe shop and the cabinet shop. A few days later The Mountain Democrat reported that the damages had reached about $25,000. Of course, the Legion show was canceled. I had forgotten all about buying my new suit and just went home.
That night at the Shakespeare Club’s dance, all anyone could talk about was the fire and all felt the great loss of the Elite Theater. Yes we had the baseball club and the High School football games and annual operetta for entertainment, but the Elite had really served as Placerville’s center attraction. The place had formerly been known as Sigwart’s Opera House, having served up entertainments for residents since the 1880s. As the Elite it had gone over to movies, but still was used for vaudeville, touring plays and local benefit shows. It was thought that perhaps the Legion show could move to the high school auditorium, but the whole thing fell apart.
The first people I noticed across the Federated Church hall, where the Shakespeare Club dance was held, were Tom and Mary Swansborough. I might have stopped into the Candy Kitchen to see “Aunt Mary” Swansborough (as everyone calls her) earlier if the fire hadn’t happened. Tom and Mary talked all about their upcoming 50th Wedding Anniversary party that was going to be held at the church. Aunt Mary said that within a year the Shakespeare Club expected to have their own building with a proper hall for dances and other events. I half joked that the club ought to think about building a movie theater while they were at it.
Soon, in walked June Bell and Rose Brown, apparently without escorts. June and Rose work as operators for the phone company and June had a lot to say about the craziness going on while on duty during the fire. Every phone line was busy and June and Rose were working so hard to control the lines that they didn’t even notice the roof of their own building caught fire. Apparently the fire fighters killed the blaze and the building was saved, but phone lines went down, knocking out service in the south west part of town, though a line was kept open down to Sacramento by way of Auburn. I never think of how the phone works––it’s amazing to hear June talk about it with such knowledge and detail. I asked her to dance and we trotted the floor a bit before the band took a break.
June and I walked over to get drinks and we stat down to talk next to Rose. Rose had been talking to Larry Anderson, who works at the Placerville Lumber company and he was coming back with refreshments. June gave Rose some ribbing about having a crush on Larry, which Rose then turned around onto us. I hadn’t known June very long and hadn’t been so taken with her as to have asked her to the dance as a date, but she was pretty good company now. Rose asked about how things were going with my teaching English at the high school and I told her I thought we had a pretty good senior class––we should have 47 graduate. I realized that June never asks me about myself, but only talks about her work and interests. She’s not a bad dancer though.
Over the next few months there was lots of talk as to what should be done about a movie theater. One idea was to use the old high school building now that students have all been moved into the new school on Canal Street. For a while the Lion’s Club sponsored occasional benefit movie showings in our new high school auditorium. These were infrequent, but were a lot of fun with the Glee Club, 12 men strong, singing a pre-show program and the school band playing along with the film. There was a big turn out for Douglas Fairbanks in The Mark of Zorro. Because of a misleading headline in the paper, some patrons thought that Douglas Fairbanks was making a personal appearance and were a little disgruntled, but the Glee Club did a wonderful job at winning over the crowd––Professor Talbert really has a knack for training the boys to sound very professional. These shows were meant to raise money for the new high school band uniforms, but they served as the town’s only entertainment outside of the games. There was also that annual Senior Class Play, which was the very amusing Nothing But the Truth. This was all about a fellow who made a bet with his friends that he would tell the absolute truth no matter what and it turned out that he had a pretty hard time of it. June Bell volunteered to help with “front of house” duties, I think to find a reason to see me more often as I was acting as house manager for the play. June was starting to insinuate her way into my life.
Although the Main Street fire did a lot of damage, two very good things came of the fire. One was that the burning of the buildings on the south side of Main Street allowed for the city to widen the street right where it had an irritating bottle neck. The bottle neck was also dangerous, as proven by the difficulty of the authorities getting through with all the other cars and pedestrians in the way when the fire broke out. A new theater was built a short way up the street and it was decided that the old historical theater name, “Empire,” would be adopted as the name of the new theater, which would be equipped for sound. When you think about it, the building of the new Empire Theater went very fast considering the grand opening was only eighteen months after the burning of the Elite. I was so excited that I made sure to have a ticket for the big event, which was priced at fifty cents. I bought two, but debated as to whom I might ask to go with me. Although I hadn’t seen her recently, I called up June Bell to ask her and it turned out she already had a date. I felt dumb for sulking about it, but then asked my pal George if he wanted the ticket and he was delighted.
In all the months since the fire I never did buy a new suit––somehow it didn’t seem important, but now I had an event and I was actually overdue for that suit. So, after school one Friday that September I parked the car just a few doors down from Combellack’s and popped in to see what they had. I found a dandy blue suit in a light wool that the clerk, whose name was Eddie, called “summer weight,” but I didn’t care. September was still warm enough and I liked how the suit fit me without needing any tailoring. I also bought a new tie with a thin red stripe to it, suspenders and two white shirts. When I mentioned that I was going to the opening of the Empire, Eddie said he would see me there.
The manager, Mr. Frank Atkins, came out on stage of the warm and cozy 600 seat theater and gave a short welcome speech and introduced to the audience, Mrs. Donahue, who had been in the audience of the opening night show of the original Empire Theater in 1856. She stood up to wave and everyone applauded. Imagine the history that lady has seen in all those years! Mr. Atkins said that the Empire would change films three times a week. This was a more robust schedule than we had with the Elite. In addition to movies the theater would be available for occasional live performances, vaudeville and local benefit shows––the annual Legion show would soon return. Then the curtain opened and we had the great fun of seeing the brand new MGM musical, Good News, which had only just been premiered in Los Angeles. The sound was good and the movie a rousing time with the audience laughing and applauding all through it as if it were a live show. On the way out, George and I ran into June on the arm of Eddie, the clerk from Combellack’s! We all said empty things to each other and then went our separate ways––me giving George a ride home.
The next week I went to all three movies: Ramon Novaro was in Call of the Flesh and the most interesting thing about it was hearing his voice after only having seen him in silents in the past. I invited June to go with me to a silly thing called Man Trouble, but the dinner we had at the Raffle’s Hotel beforehand was better. Walking up Main Street towards the Court House, where my car was parked, I took hold of June’s hand and she leaned her head against my shoulder. The week ended with a Hal Roach western starring Gilbert Roland, Men of the North, which I attended alone, but ended up sitting next to Larry and Rose, who were now engaged.
I didn’t keep up with a three a week movie going schedule––who had the time? But, I went to the Empire nearly once a week for years thereafter. Obviously inspired by the opening week showing of Good News at the Empire, the High School put on the Broadway stage version of Good News the following April and it had a lot more songs than the film. The band also looked very handsome in their new uniforms. Several of the boys had formed their own small dance band and I suggested to some of the Shakespeare Club ladies that they use the boys for their next dance. Roger Brown was standing near by and piped up that he might be able to use the boys in the next Legion show at the Empire. “You’re a regular Hollywood style agent,” said June.
The Daughters of the Golden West gave the Swansborough's an honorary dinner––it seems they are the most famous and beloved couple of Placerville. I read the story in the paper to June and she smiled and said, “Maybe they’ll be throwing us an honorary dinner in 50 years.” Ah ha! That was a hint if ever I heard one, but the idea sounded pretty good to me too, so I smiled back and said, “You never know.” The next day I went down to Miller’s Jewelry on Main Street and bought an engagement ring.
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