Saying Goodbye

On September 15th, 2013 came the end of an era. It was on that day that The American theater or The Loews American, the name I knew her by in the halcyonic days of my youth, closed her doors for good. As a child growing up in Parkchester and living in 1514 Unionport Rd., The Loews American was my second home.

If you know anything about Parkchester than you know that it wasn't until recently that the buildings got new windows that could accommodate air conditioning, so you can imagine what my childhood was like. HOT! Thank god for the Carvel ice cream store on my corner or I would have been a real world of heated hurt. More than the Carvel's keeping me cool through those vicious summer months though, was my movie theater.

I say MY movie theater because she was truly my home away from home. My theater was gorgeous. With her art deco look, marble everywhere, lush carpeting, and great popcorn, I was there almost every Saturday. I was allowed entry and snacks armed with nothing more than $5. I would get the bucket of popcorn, a big soda, a pack of twizzlers, and a box of Lemonheads. And I would watch my movie in air conditioned luxury. My theater would feed and nurture the mind and imagination of a little boy who would then run home and either jump into a book, or write his own stories.

I can't remember all the movies I saw there but I know the first one was Lady and the Tramp and the last one was Man of Steel with my mother. There were hundreds of movies in between those like Raiders of the Lost Ark, Ghostbusters, Beverly Hills Cop, Jaws 2, Close Encounters, Star Trek 1 and 2, Superman 2, Trading Places, and The Goonies just to name a few. I was lucky to have the Loews American right across the street from where I lived and that theater, my theater became my first love. She kept me both safe, fed, and cool, and transported me to worlds and told me stories I drank in. Somehow I foolishly thought she would always be there even when all around me, vestiges from my youth are rapidly disappearing.

My theater is gone now, and from what I understand is destined to become a department store (talk about lacking in originality). I feel sorry for the little boy or girl that will never get to know her. That little boy or girl who will never know what she was like in her glorious prime, who will never have their imaginations fed the proper way, in a darkened, plush, air conditioned theater with a bucket of popcorn in their laps.  

I bid my friend a fond farewell and a loving thank you. You, more than anything and almost more than anyone else has molded me into the man I am today. A man that sees the wonder in all things and imagines what mysteries lie around that next corner. Thank you Loews American, you will always be remembered with reverence and with love.