. 
Shoveling snow away from the movie entrance, Chilicothe, Ohio: photo by Arthur Rothstein, February 1940
Entrance to a movie house, Beale Street, Memphis, Tennessee: photo by Marion Post Wolcott, October 1939
Front of movie theatre, San Antonio, Texas: photo by Russell Lee, March 1939
Movie theatre, Saginaw, Michigan: photo by John Vachon, August 1941
Children at a movie house on Sunday, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: photo by Jack Delano, January 1941 
The movie theatre of Escalante, Utah: photo by Dorothea Lange, April 1936
Movie theatre, Romney, West Virginia: photo by John Vachon, March 1938
Movie theatre, Moore Haven, Florida: photo by Marion Post Wolcott, January, 1939 
Children and farmers waiting to go into movie on Saturday afternoon, Littleton, New Hampshire: photo by Marion Post Wolcott, March 1939 or March 1940
Mexican man in front of movie theatre, San Antonio, Texas: photo by Russell Lee, March 1939
Photos from Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information Collection, Library of Congress)
2 comments:
Having just completed the exam I was preparing for (it was an exhausting, draining experience; it wasn't one of those exams you could complete with a feeling of obvious triumph; I finished by driving, exhausted, over a parking barrier), I wanted to say that I have been turning to these photos for a sense of connectedness and comfort since they were posted. In college, I got into an unexpected, irrational argument (I didn't pick the fight) with a friend over Jack Benny. I love Jack Benny. My friend averred that there was something wrong with that. I'll (re)submit: There isn't. I love going to the movies. Each of these pictures reminds me of parts of my life and positive and hopeful feelings I've experienced just thinking about entering a cinema. That being said, Jane informs me that at the Anthony Wayne Theater in Wayne, PA, popcorn prices have now reached $8. End Times, I say.
Curtis,
"In my End is my beginning."
Congratulations on the exam. I never doubted you would pass it... nor did I doubt that the thing was really putting you through the wringer for a month or two there.
(I'm just guessing in my certainties, naturally, as usual.)
Jack Benny... yes, that can be a difficult argument to sustain.
Years ago I had the acquaintance of an eager young American purebred poetry debutant upon whom I bestowed the legacy of an ancient Jack Benny appreciation, in the form of about 300 taped shows.
The bloom was off the rose before it even had a chance to see the light of day, I fear, in that instance.
Perhaps there are some tastes one should never attempt to explain.
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