OUR HEROES
Young sailor puts on a show
During the Depression, ours was one of the many poor families living in Chicago, Illinois. There wasn’t enough money for everyone to go to a movie, so my clever brothers and sisters saved their pennies to send the oldest, Jack, to the theater. He’d watch the movie, sometimes more than once, memorizing the storyline and as much of the dialogue as he could. When he came home, my eight siblings sat as if they were in a movie theater, and Jack would begin movie night.
Jim might act a part, or—if Jack needed a stunt person—Terry; my sisters Vernone and Rose sometimes played female roles. Most of the time, Jack acted out everything by himself, so that the family could sit back and enjoy the show. He ran, climbed and fell, and had sword fights, fist fights and arguments.
His villains brought to mind the biggest, meanest guys. His heroes and heroines were the handsomest and most beautiful Jack’s audience could imagine. The show was funnier, scarier and more exciting for taking place in the minds of my brothers and sisters.
When the “movie” ended, his audience wanted more: “Play the movie again, Jack.” And Jack, being the trouper that he was, would start over with a second showing.
Back then, movies opened with a newsreel, and then a cartoon. Jack skipped those parts. Only Mel Blanc could do a cartoon properly, and the news of the day wasn’t very good.
I know about this family entertainment from the stories my siblings told me. I wasn’t born until 1942, and Jack went off to fight in World War II, where he died in combat when I was only 2. I’m sure Jack’s movies were much better than the ones shown in the theater, and I’d give anything to have been in attendance, even as an usher.
I’d love to be able to tell a story the way Jack did, although I’m not sure my children or grandchildren would be all that thrilled to hear my movie renditions.
Sometimes when I’m watching a movie that isn’t very good, I think of Jack, and wonder how he’d have acted it out.