The Strand Theater, Home Away From Home

We were asked to tell our memories of The Strand Theater of Marietta in our formative years. Here goes, below: THE STRAND THEATER IN MY YOUTH My name is Edwin “Eddie” T. Hunter, AKA Rock Hunter. I was born in 1941 on Atlanta Street, two or three blocks from the Strand Theater. When I was young, it was my second home. Before I was six a bunch of us from Clay Homes went to the Saturday Morning Matinees. We were not worried about being kidnapped. Nobody would have us. The Saturday morning movie was either a black and white cowboy movie with a national known cowboy hero or maybe The Bowery Boys. Often times either Saturday or Sunday night our parents would take us to see a thriller, romance or maybe something with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby. With our parents we usually sat near the back. During Saturday morning “shoot’em ups”, we usually sat closer to the screen near the exit door. That was the social center for our age where we got to meet kids from other schools.I still remember the green round Mayes Ward Funeral Home clock over the corner exit door. For my age, admission was under 15 cents. As I got older and the admission price increased, the ticket taker asked me how old I was. That was embarrassing. One of my so call friends must have told on me. More money spent, the less allowance money I had. Speaking of slipping in without paying the right price or none, a few of us figured out a way to get in free. The ticket taker on most days was a guy named Sharkie. The trick was to go into Sharkie’s station, also the smoking lounge, and light up a cigarette, shoot the breeze with Sharkie until your cigarette runs out. Next go into the Lobby and buy yourself a Coke and go on into the movie. When I was about ten or eleven years old, we lived in the South part of Marietta. Somehow, I got my hands on a Roman Candle. Fireworks were illegal in Georgia at that time. I was not about to get caught breaking the law since my father was Chief of Marietta Police. I wanted to shoot the Roman Candle but did not want to get caught. I thought I had better shoot it in broad daylight while Daddy was at work. In the daylight it was very disappointing. First, I lit it and it did nothing. Then I thought maybe it just needed shaking, so I shook it and unfortunately, I was right. A white blaze shot out of the tube I was holding and scorched my hand. I was in a painful agony. My solution was to hold my hand in icy water, but how to keep my mom from knowing what I was up to. I walked the mile distance to the Square, went to The Strand and bought a ticket. I bought a large Coke and explained to the concession lady what I was doing but could only afford one refill. She told me only the cups are counted, not the volume of Coke. She offered when the ice melts, just come up and she would refill it, no cost. It worked! The next day the pain was bearable. Back in those days you could come in a movie when you got there and stay until you made a complete cycle of the movie. I don’t remember ever being kicked out of a movie but some of my friends were. When we tried the ushers’ patience, we were probably preteens showing off for girls. Those were the Good Old Days. This picture of Smiley Burnette and me was taken in front of the Strand behind the Box Office about 1948. 1659050114787blob.jpg