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Health & Fitness

Country Gal/City Woman: An Escape Down the Yellow Brick Road

Escaping the Depression Day Blues at the Atlantic Theatre.

My hometown of Atlantic, Iowa, even with being a tad small in those days of the Twenties and Thirties, had more than a few "Fun for Family" activities like playing billiards and poker at the local pool hall; fishing the waters of the Nishnabotna River for the ugliest of all fish, the catfish; Sunday family potlucks with always a Horseshoe Tournament; the yearly Circus coming to town followed by the Ken Maynard and Tom Mix Cowboy Shows; the County Fair that awarded prized ribbons for outstanding boars and bulls, sows and cows, pies and pickles, the all-around Boy 4-H'r and Girl 4-H'r; not to mention the new bowling alley with those self-proclaimed fastest and liveliest pinsetters. The Sunnyside Park Swimming Pool was always a draw for the burgeoning crowd as were the semi-professional baseball and softball games held at the various ball diamonds around Cass County.

As great as all the aforementioned were, none could compare to the Atlantic Theatre. Movies in those days provided "escapism" whether we be watching Dr. Frankenstein make the most of every nut and bolt in his laboratory or we be thinking we could replace Ginger Rogers with just another week of practice. Handing over a hard-earned dime to the cashier was a wise investment and began a love affair for the movies that has yet to wane.

The aisle seat, right side and ten rows down at the Atlantic was all mine, the next seat over being piled with books from the Carnegie Library, just across the street and up a half block. Watching the latest Hollywood production was pure escapism from the Depression Day Blues, harsh wintry and insufferably humid summer days...plus a right smart way to "inspect" unsuspecting farm lads in town with parents for a day of stocking up on non-farm commodities. (Much like the days when I am bowling at Action Lanes in El Monte, "inspect and suspect.") :)

On the silver screen unfolded wondrous fables of forbidden romance, comedies featuring The Little Rascals, Laurel and Hardy, Keystone Cops, mysterious intrigue, song-and-dance extravaganzas, western sagas and weekly serials that foretold of events to come during a space age when men would fly with rockets on their backsides and in rockets to the moon. Who would have thought the "man on the moon" would someday have a name: Neil Armstrong!

Probably the biggest attraction ever to sell tickets at the Theatre was Miss Sally Rand and Her Fabulous Fans, direct by bus from Hollywood. For those with 20/20 vision, it was easy enough to detect the flesh-colored body suit, but for those of us who were a bit myopic and couldn't discern, it appeared slightly scandalous through my own squinty eyes.

However, I must give the "aging" Sally credit for being beyond graceful and concede that I might have been just a tad envious of her obviously feminine charms. This lovely 30-year-old (or plus) movie star was well worth the 25 cents the Theatre charged for her appearance that day, and the male population was eagerly looking forward to a repeat performance that evening!  I have only to close my now-corrected eyes to see Miss Sally Rand and Her Fabulous Fans flit across the stage of the Atlantic Theatre once again...and just saved myself 25 cents!

When Shirley Temple was at her zenith (like all of seven years of age) every Mom became a stage mom and entered her dimpled darling in the Shirley Temple Look-Alike Contest held in every movie theatre across these United States. Shirley was every little girl's best friend in those days, we longed to be in her shoes as she tapped up and down those stairs with her leading men Bill Bojangles Robinson, Jimmy Dunn and Buddy Ebsen, and took delight in cutting out the clothes (with the tabs, remember?) to attach to her cute little plump figure.

I know what you are thinking...did I enter a contest? No...I was too attached to my cowgirl boots and, besides, the cost of a Shirley Temple frock was more than what Mom and Dad spent on a Sunday dinner with all the kids around the table. And, besides even that, 56 or more pin curls to match Shirley's popular hairdo...I don't think so! But, someday, I told myself, YOU will go to Hollywood.  

One of the very first "must do" things that husband Del and I did upon reaching sunny Southern California in January 1948 was to visit Hollywood for the touristy Hollywood's Walk of Stars, not so expansive then as it is today. (Oh, yes, I expect to "zenith" any day now!) 

Indelibly etched in my memory are the Seven Spies Sisters who had appeared on many other theatre stages across Iowa and nearby states and on the Major Bowes Amateur Hour Show.

Combining individual beauty with precision tap dancing and acrobatic showmanship, these young gals from nearby Massena were what every little gal who had ever attended Saturday morning dance class aspired to be. Hollywood really "blew" it big time when the moguls failed to sign these seven cuties to contract. Eventually the Seven Spies Sisters retired from show business, married local lads, raised their families in Atlantic and nearby communities and took their kids to Sunnyside Park. The youngest sister, Betty, and I became friends when my brother, Dutch, dated Cleone for a time. We played Jax on my bedroom floor, fame set aside for the time being.  I think I missed the boat when I did not ask the girls to show me how to "shuffle off to Buffalo." You think?   

There is no doubt in my mind that the Atlantic Theatre was the center of entertainment for 99.44% of the entirety of our small Midwestern town. We were educated in every sense of the word by what we witnessed on the silver screen...

We learned, by example, proper dining etiquette (from not-so-proper Gabby Hayes scooping up beans from a tin plate to Greer Garson lifting her right pinky when consuming high tea and scones); we learned the rules of courting (not all cowboys and cowgirls walked off into the sunset with just their saddled beasts of burden) better still, looking up into the balcony of the Theatre where the young swains of Atlantic were hesitantly sliding their right arm across the back of their young ladies' seat (those farm lads were quick studies!) we learned there is quiet dignity in being poor, being willing to toil under adverse conditions (as portrayed by Jane Darwell and Henry Fonda in Grapes of Wrath) and we learned of the ravages of World War II via the Lowell Thomas Newsreels and saw the torn lands where some of our Atlantic-born heroes gave up their lives, three from the Class of 1943.

But, most of all, I learned that in escaping for a few hours via the movies, my very own yellow-brick road (The Wizard of Oz) would lead me back to 210 Birch and memories I would never be able to leave home without.

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