Drive-in movies will dare a pandemic and start opening for cars…and family passengers…in Texas this month. So the girls who went there in Abilene tell me.
Daughter One remembers seeing South Pacific on the big screen. Daughter Three remembers climbing on the mattress in the rear of the station wagon after they showed cartoons, before the feature. Daughter Two ‘not much’.
What Daddy remembers goes back to when the 1950 drive-in theater operator paid their Mother to write commercials to broadcast over the sound box suspended in the driver’s window. We needed supplemental pay for that first baby girl. This former university Daily Texan editor reported and edited for only $50 per week. The $1.50 paid Maxine for each commercial helped.
Her commercials invited you to come to the refreshment stand and buy take-out food and drinks. Now I see on TV they will don a mask and deliver your order to your vehicle.
What I also remember happened three years before we married in Austin. During my summer in Abilene before my second year studying in Austin. I worked as a cub reporter. My salary was $35 a month. Paid for gasoline and my two nights off when I could date three of my high school girl friends back from their colleges. Took turns squiring them to the drive-in theater. Friendly coeds, but each preferred watching and listening to the movie than hearing my romantic pitches.
Sandra went with me to the last movie before we returned to our colleges. I quit pitching when Sandra announced, “Oh Dick, I left my compact in your glove compartment. And here’s Ada’s and Maewyn’s.” Then she revealed they played bridge every afternoon and giggled about the identical pitches I delivered.
Back in Austin, Maxine and I went to the same editing class, worked nights on the college newspaper, married after graduation. We moved to Abilene and earned enough money to support three daughters…and then a son. Nights out, we took them to the drive-in movie.
Credit Photo: Josh Cisar, Holiday Twin Drive-In
