ON MAY 9, 1930, the Olympic Theatre opened for business in Forks.
Movies had previously been shown in the International Order of Odd Fellows hall, but this was a real theater.
Over the next 50-some years, the Olympic Theatre played a great role in interactions with friends and neighbors.
It took us to foreign places, brought us excitement and entertainment on the big screen, but it always felt like home.
Even though the theater had been boarded up for years, last week’s fire and the building’s ultimate demise has everyone reminiscing about their experiences at the theater.
Rhonda Allen remembers selling pop bottles to earn the price of admission.
Many remember getting in trouble for talking and either getting moved away from their friends or — the worst — getting sent home.
Allen was one of those. But she hasn’t told her mother yet, and it was 40 years ago.
I guess it is time her mother knows.
Former Forks resident Don Rhyne remembers when his older sister, Peggy, won a life-size cardboard cutout of Elvis Presley in 1960.
The prize was a lobby advertisement for Elvis’ movie, “Flaming Star.”
Upon safely getting the cardboard Elvis home, the Rhyne residence became very popular.
Young Elvis fans were visiting at all times of the day and night to get a look at the King.
Rhyne remembers the frenzied young girls going crazy over the cutout.
Rhyne, who was 5 years old at the time, said: “I remember looking up at Elvis and wondering, what’s all the fuss?”
Rhyne’s father soon remedied the problem by giving cardboard Elvis to a neighbor girl, Ruth Hunley. She was thrilled, but her father, Hollum Hunley, soon also learned the curse of having Elvis in his home.
If Rhyne’s memory serves him correctly, he believes cardboard Elvis was cut up and burned by Hunley.
Another of Hunley’s daughters, Leann, has gone on to have a television and movie career of her own.
Rhyne believes Hunley didn’t hate Hollywood or Elvis — just too much company.
The great thing about the Olympic Theatre while growing up in Forks was the feeling of having a little freedom.
Your parents would drop you off, and parents and children would get a little time apart.
That all came to an end in 1967.
On Friday evening, Nov. 10 of that year, the kids in line had been rowdy.
When the movie did not start on time, the crowd of 8- to 18-year-olds became disruptive.
I was there. The kids started stomping their feet.
It was a double-bill, with films starring Jerry Lewis and Sonny and Cher, I blame it on them.
The next day, the owner of the theater, Estene Fletcher, announced that all children and teens had to be with a parent to come to the theater.
Her rule was repealed a short time later, due to parents not wanting to sit through “Beach Blanket Bingo.”
In the late 1960s, the Motion Picture Association of America started rating movies. This meant many films were off-limits to those younger than 17 years.
One evening, three friends and I decided to go see an R-rated movie, a cinematic masterpiece called “Superfly” about a cocaine dealer wanting to go straight after wanting to do one last big deal.
My three friends made it in — no problem — and even though I was old enough when I paid Mrs. Fletcher my admission, she pushed it back and informed me that if I needed to call my mother for a ride home, I could come inside to use the phone.
But I would not be coming in to watch “Superfly.”
To this day, I have not seen “Superfly,” but it is available at Amazon.com for $9.99.
Early Elvis Presley memorabilia is most desired by collectors, and a life-size Elvis cardboard cutout in mint condition could be worth $2,000-plus.
Olympic Theatre memories — priceless.
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Christi Baron is a longtime West End resident who is the office and property manager for Lunsford & Associates real estate and lives with her husband, Howard, in Forks.
Phone her at 360-374-3141 or 360-374-2244 with items for this column, or e-mail her at hbaron@centurytel.net.
West End Neighbor appears on this page every other Tuesday.
