Early Fall, along US Route 13

The wonderful part of living in the mid-Atlantic is that during September and October the weather is incredible.  There is a great propensity of crystal blue skies, the temperature is either cool with a warm sun or warm with a cool breeze, and long shadows are a harbinger of the coming autumn. It is not uncommon to find roadside stands offering travelers pumpkins, mums, and corn mazes for entertainment.

We were traveling north on US Route 13 in Delaware. Angie, ever watchful for interesting things for us to explore, saw a sign, along the highway, for the Christian Church of Seafood. My mind started considering the interesting dogmatic contortions of theology that might be associated with such a congregation. I was beginning to consider scenarios such as the church was founded by fishermen; or, more bizarrely, a sacrament involved some edible piscatory items, perhaps involving five loaves of bread. That was, until I realized that we were in the town of Seaford, Delaware, and Angie had misread the sign, a mistake I usually make. 

Ocean City in Neon

The Empress Motel at Ocean City

At the eastern terminus of US Route 50, in Ocean City, Maryland, several motels have retained their accoutrements of a bygone era. The remaining neon signs, which adorn the main thoroughfares, harken back to a time when most vacations along the shore were taken in station wagons and focused on long days at the beach. Although there have been several high-rise hotels constructed in recent years, the entire boardwalk is an exercise in Americana. Food stands, games, amusements, restaurants, bars and motels dot the wooden boardwalk that stretches two and one-quarter miles along the Atlantic Ocean. It is a populist place, replete with cheap souvenirs and t-shirts advertising all manner of things and beliefs.

The first hotel built in Ocean City, the Atlantic Hotel, was constructed in 1875, and within a few years trains would deliver travelers to the shore. The post-Second World War economic boom and the completion of the Bay Bridge, facilitating automobile traffic from the Washington-Baltimore metropolitan area. Generations of family began using Ocean City as an annual vacation destination and it is common to hear long-term residence of Mid-Atlantic states to refer in reverential nostalgia about their summers spent at the Maryland shore.

The Alamo Motel on US Route 50, Ocean City

As I was photographing the Alamo Motel, the owner asked if I were coming into the office, presumably to secure a room for the night. I sheepishly admitted that I was only photographing his neon sign. I asked him if he knew the age of the 20-foot sign. He had been at the hotel for twenty-six years, and knew that the hotel itself was opened in 1946, but was unsure of the age of the sign. He said that the original owner was one of the Flying Tigers and had returned to the area to open the motel. I had noticed the hotel and its sign a few years back while driving through and had made a mental note that, if I were ever in town again after dark, I would stop and photograph the sign. He seemed to appreciate my story as he finished putting out food for his 21 cats. He and his friend and he were getting ready to settle in for a chat on a very pleasant September evening. The cats were all beautiful, and I reached over to pet a calico on the head; after a brief hesitation, she warmed to me. The owner indicated that all of the cats were fat and happy. “And spoiled,” his friend added. 

Wanshang Huaniao Market

When we travel, we want to see something different, something out of the ordinary. The Wanshang Huaniao Market, otherwise known as the Flower and Bird Market in Shanghai, is a place many of us would not recognize. The interior of the market are multiple stalls of plants and animals, of every variety. Entering the market is to be faced with a cacophony of crickets chirping mixed with bird song. It is amazing to think that some crickets can cost up to $1000; such an animal would need to fetch my slippers and bring the mail in each day. The smell of animals is persistent, although not as unpleasant as you might first expect. Yet, the market, I suspect, is disconcerting for many Westerners. It is not difficult to find a small bird or animal who has succumbed to the eat or dehydration. Nevertheless, the uniqueness and variety intrigues the visitor. There are small fishes of multiple designs and colors; variously sized crickets, from nearly microscopic to as big as a child’s hand; kittens and puppies in very small cages; and, birds too numerous to count. While I am not given to buy many souvenirs, where else can you buy small porcelain dishes used for feeding and watering one’s pet cricket? 

The Capitol Theatre (Rome)

The auditorium of the Capitol Theatre (Rome, NY)

The Capitol Theatre, Rome, New York, is a stellar example of the grand cinemas of early twentieth century America. Opened in December 1928, with the feature film Lilac Time, the Capitol had a seating capacity of 1741 and was the largest and most important theatre in the city. It was substantially renovated in 1939, in an art deco motif. The Capitol operated as a movie theater until its closure in 1973, but reopened as a civic center in 1985. Since 2003 the theater has been home to Capitolfest, an annual festival of classic and restored motion pictures. The festival provides a unique opportunity to see interesting films, as they were meant to be seen, on a big screen, in a darken theatre, with other people, and with very few distractions.

In early December 1928, as the theater was preparing to open, the local newspaper, the Rome Sentinel was cover declining health of the British monarch, George V, who had a serious health crisis as he suffered from septicemia that complicated his pulmonary problems. At times, there were almost gruesome details about the health of the monarch. Attention in the local newspaper was divided between the opening of the Capitol and the prospect that the heir to the British crown, the future Edward VIII, would marry Lady Anne Maud Wellesley. He would not; instead, later, choosing the American Wallis Simpson, creating even more sensational headlines.

The end of the row U in the upper balcony

As the Capitol prepared for its opening, there was gossip surrounding the city’s link to Hollywood. There was a rumor that the star of the theater’s first film, Colleen Moore, spent time in Rome as a student at the Academy of Holy Name, while her father was a managing engineer at the Rome Brass and Cooper Mills. In a telegram to the newspaper, Moore said that she was living with her uncle, who managing editor of the Chicago Tribune, in Chicago, while her parents were living in Rome. No doubt a blow to the prestige of Romans.   

When the local press was given a preview of the theater a few weeks before its premiere screening, an unknown local reporter for the Rome Sentinel wrote, “To attempt to describe the beauty of the Auditorium of the Capitol Theater is futile; the interior of theater must be seen to be appreciated.” Today, it remains a beautiful theater, but with some scars received during a long life. Maintaining a theater that is close to ninety years old is a difficult task. Nevertheless, it is a real treat to visit and spend a weekend basking in the grand old theater during Capitolfest. Spending a long weekend with a couple of hundred film enthusiasts is both educational and interesting. The festival gathers four to five hundred people to the 1700 seat theater over the course of the second weekend in August, and several are elderly. At some point during the weekend, usually on the Friday evening, it is not uncommon to have three or four people snoring loudly, echoing through the cavernous auditorium.

One of the points of pride for the Capitol today is its 1928 Moller Organ, installed as an original piece of equipment. The opening of theater coincided with the beginning of sound films. The theater had equipment for both sound films and the Moller organ, which was not used until a month after its opening. According to the theater’s managing director, records indicate that the organ was only used to accompany about twelve films prior to the beginning of Capitolfest in 2003. The theater opened just in time to take advantage of the excitement of sound films, and silent films were regulated to older, inferior cinemas.

The screen from row EE in the upper balcony

The upper balcony, which has not undergone a renovation or restoration any time recently, is an archive of historical curiosities. Someone pointed out to me, years ago, that a few seats retained hat racks. In the days when it was unfashionable for men to venture in public with an uncovered head, bolted to the bottom of the seat was a metal circle that would hold most kinds of hats. Wearing a hat in the theater would not be appropriate, so a man could safely store his Stetson, or other type of hat, tucked away beneath him during a movie. In the very upper reaches of the balcony, the last row EE indicates thirty-one rows of seat, old carpet still adorns the stairway. If the carpet is original to the theater, which is a possibility, then it was from the Bigelow Carpet Company of Enfield, Connecticut.

The city of Rome was settled along the pathway known as the Oneida Carrying Place, where the Iroquois people transported boats and goods from the Mohawk River, which leads to the Atlantic Coast, to Wood Creek, which leads to the Great Lakes, and vice versa. Historically, this portage area was of great strategic value and led to the founding of Fort Stanwix (1758-1762), just a couple of blocks from the Capitol. Subsequently, construction of the Erie Canal, connecting Albany and Buffalo, began in Rome on 4 July 1817. The city is home to many other historical landmarks that make it a fun place to explore.

Projector room

I have become increasingly familiar with Rome because of my attendance at Capitolfest each August. The center of the city has been devastated by a declining economy and urban blight. Other than the Capitol, some churches, and few stray buildings, there are very few structures remaining from the pre-Second World War period. One of the exceptions is Eddie’s Paramount Diner, located on West Dominick Street, which was opened in 1941. While the exterior of the building has had brick façade built around it, the interior still boasts the stainless steel and wood fixtures, which appear to be original, of a diner from the 1940s. Each year, I usually try to have breakfast on Friday mornings before many of the festival’s attendees arrive. Otherwise, Eddie’s is filled with several people interested in extending their nostalgia trip from the theater to their dining experience. It is a good place to do so; it looks very much like a diner from a film of the 1930s or 1940s, such as Sullivan’s Travels. There’s something satisfying about having breakfast of a couple of fried eggs, sunny-side up, with hash browns, prepared on a flattop grill in front you, and a cup of coffee served in a ceramic mug. Reading a local newspaper, while listening to the chattering, gossip and joshing of regulars, adds to the ambiance.

In addition to the lack of older buildings, several of the buildings constructed during the 1960s and 1970s in the downtown section are under occupied or abandoned. Over my years of attending Capitolfest, particularly since the 2008 financial crisis, I have watched as the center of Rome become increasingly depopulated of businesses. The surrounding residential neighborhoods appears to be hold their own. But the loss of the Griffiss Air Force Base in 1995, and the subsequent economic downturn in the region, have done damage to the city.