When Dayton Went to the Movies

Dayton Neighborhood Theaters

Movie attendance boomed throughout the war years, reaching its peak in 1946. The following year, however, theaters slowly began to lose business. By the early 1950’s patronage to the motion picture houses was nearly half of what it had been only a few years before.

Sales of television sets, on the other hand, had steadily increased. By 1954 more than half of all the homes in the United States had TVs. This would increase to ninety percent by the end of the 1950’s.

The push to bring patrons back to the theaters began again, this time with the introduction of experiences unable to be shown on television. 3-D movies such as Bwana Devil in 1952 and House of Wax in 1953 brought them in, but the craze was all but over by 1955.

AromaRama and Smell-O-Vision were used in theaters in 1959 and 1960 to introduce scents like incense, fireworks and garlic into the audience at crucial points of the film. Sometimes the smell produced were unintentionally awful when mixed in the air together and the process was abandoned.

One idea that did work was to increase the size of the movie being shown. Televisions were usually 12-inch screens that many times were fuzzy from interference. When Cinerama was introduced in 1952, audiences were enthralled. Three cameras were used to record various portions of the same scene, then the film was projected through three projectors using 35mm film. When the films were projected as one image and the motion picture track played in stereophonic sound, it was a theater experience unlike anything ever before, or since. One major problem, however, was that the process required at least four times the man-power and special equipment to both make and show the films. In 1953 Twentieth Century-Fox released The Robe in a new process called CinemaScope. This method used the anamorphic lens system, in which an image is squeezed onto the film in the camera and then spread out when projected. The size of the image was 2½ as wide as it was high and since it required no special equipment other than the lenses itself, the process could be shown in any theater in the country. This method, along with the introduction of 65mm film in a process known as Todd-AO in 1956, did help the theaters win back some customers. Audiences loved watching the rococo balloon sail away in Around the World in 80 Days. But it wasn’t enough.

In many ways, Hollywood was its own worse enemy. In 1952 Columbia Screen Gems, a subsidiary of Columbia Studios, began producing a television program called "Ford Theater" for the Ford Motor Company. The decision to join television instead of fighting it might have helped the studio stay afloat, but it also gave people even more reason to stay at home.

In 1955, desperate for money, RKO became the first major studio to sell television rights to its films. The first movie from the deal to reach the small screen was King Kong in 1956. New York WOR-TV was so excited to have a genuine major film to air that they showed the movie twice a day for a week. Other studios soon followed suit, Warner Bros. selling off their pre-1949 library to Associated Artists Productions for $21 million in 1956.

The move to sell film rights was the final blow to many of the neighborhood theaters.

"It was devastating," remembers Midwestern exhibitor Herb Brown. "I can remember one time when a TV station came out with Red River starring John Wayne. This was a big picture on TV and they took out a two-page ad in the newspaper. It all but buried the theaters. The theaters did absolutely no business when it played that night."

Of the 21 neighborhood theaters that had survived the talkies and the Depression, over half had closed their doors by 1961. The era of small, independent theaters was drawing to a close...

Alhambra (1912-71)

Cinema X East (1971- Present)

2121 East Third Street

In 1912 Burt Fiala sold his interest in the Fiala Brother’s Grocery Store to his brother Benjamin and opened the Alhambra. The Alhambra’s ads in the local newspaper were sporadic at first, depending mostly on people in the neighborhood to patronize the theater’s silent movies. As time went on the frequency of the ads increased as the theater became more successful.

Twenty-eight theater owners, including Burt Fiala, fell into the hands of the police on Sunday afternoon, May 5, 1912, as a result of their effort to open their movie houses on the Sabbath. At the time it was against the law in the state of Ohio to "exhibit theatrical or dramatic performances" on a Sunday. The theater owners had made their intentions known to the public well in advance of the day and people gathered at the theaters to watch what might occur.

The first arrest came at 1:30 p.m. Contrary to expectations, the owners were picked up and hauled off to the police station instead of being ordered into court, as had been anticipated. The round-up of the criminals required the entire force of police vehicles, including an ambulance, the police car and their one-horse paddy wagon. Most of the owners took the arrest in stride although a few were heard to grump about being forced to ride in the horse wagon instead of the police car.

A court date was set for the following Thursday before Judge Budroe. After much debate the judge dismissed the case stating that the motion picture was not a theatrical or dramatic production, nor did it effect the morals or good order of the community.

"I do not want to say that I’m willing to assist in building a Chinese wall around our city and prevent it from being inoculated with the germ of enlightenment and progress;" stated Judge Budroe, "to say to her people that, although every other city in the state gives its people an opportunity to enjoy their one vacation day in innocent, harmless pastimes; that every other enterprising and progressive community has moving picture shows on Sunday, but that we here in Dayton must remain in stagnant water, reeking with the microbes of crime, when an outlet is offered to cleanse the swamp and drive away temptation. What is good for these other cities is good for Dayton and to refuse to allow Dayton to keep abreast of the times is indeed criminal."

Over the years the Alhambra offered its patrons a variety of second and third run films. The double billing would usually consist of a good second run film, followed by a B movie.

Unfortunately, attendance began to dwindle as people turned to their televisions or travelled downtown to one of the more opulent theaters like the Keith’s or the Loews. By 1970 the Alhambra had turned to showing adult films.

In June 1977 the Cinema X East was picketed by 20 or so youngsters who wanted the theater to show children’s films instead of sexually explicit adult movies. The protest was organized by two neighborhood children, Ronnie Manuel and Billy Phillips, ages 13 and 11, who collected over 200 signatures opposing the theater’s choice of films.

Phillips stated that children in the area would go to the rear of the building and listen to the voices on the films, as well as peek in and watch the movies through a small hole. The two boys also had gathered ‘evidence’ outside the theater, including film clips and playing cards with sexually-explicit pictures on them.

The theater’s owner, Bill Mazas, agreed to show family films on Sundays from 1 p.m. to 9 p.m. on a trial basis, with an agreement that he would continue to do so if the neighborhood children attended the theater. Admission on Sundays was dropped to $1 by Mazas because he understood "that kids in East Dayton don’t have that much money to spend." Proceeds from the children’s movies were to be donated to Children’s Medical Center.

The experiment was unsuccessful. By October the theater had gone back to showing adult films seven days a week. A spokeswoman for Cinema X East stated that the movies were discontinued do to lack of support.

"They (children) didn’t come, and so there was no sense to continue." she said.

Phillips agreed that only 30 to 40 children showed up every week to watch the shows.

"I know that’s not a lot, and I wish more had come, but there wasn’t any advertising and a lot of kids didn’t know about it."

Phillips believed that the theater should have shown better films, like Star Wars, but admitted that he enjoyed the Hercules and Three Stooges films he had seen.

Although Cinema X East is still in business, this might soon come to an end. In January 1999 Dayton Mayor Mike Turner announced that he would like to see an ordinance passed that would limit where adult-oriented businesses could operate in the city. Earlier in the month the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a New York City law that required adult-oriented theaters, bookstores and dance bars to be located at least 500 feet from each other, homes, churches and other certain businesses. The law also allowed the businesses a year to move.

"This will not totally prohibit operation of these businesses in the city, but it would require their closure and relocation away from neighborhoods and commercial districts," said Turner.

If the ordinance is passed it is unlikely that the Cinema X East would be able to remain open due to it’s proximity to residence housing. Only time will tell.

Belmont (1946-65)

Cinema East (1965-73)

712 Watervliet Avenue

The 1000 seat Belmont Theater opened on Christmas Day in 1946. The new $200,000 theater had taken almost two years to build, but many thought that it was worth the wait. The latest in projection and sound equipment brought the motion pictures to life, while the wide seats allowed patrons to enjoy the movie in comfort. The opening attraction was Centennial Summer. Disney cartoons were also a major attraction.

The Belmont’s opening ad extolled the virtues of the new theater, from it’s "golden-voiced sound equipment" to the colorful modernistic decorations and lighting. It even mentioned that the theater offered "automatically controlled modern air conditioning", a comfort, I’m sure, to patrons who didn’t think that Dayton had winters that were already cold enough.

The theater was quite popular in the 1940’s and 1950’s, with a policy of showing a double bill program, which usually consisted of a good second run film, followed by a B movie. The shows varied over the years, from westerns to Disney, as films became available.

In 1963 the theater began operations under H & K Enterprises, who leased the property from the Blue Bird Baking Co. An estimated $18,000 was earmarked for remodelling the interior of the theater, as well as newer projection and lighting equipment. Unfortunately, H & K, formed in January 1963 by John Holokan and John C. Keyes, steadily lost money, according to Holokan.

In 1965 Ralph H. Winkler, operator of the Cinema South, formed a new realty corporation known as Atrium Development Corp. Winkler then purchased the Belmont theater from Blue Bird and went on to lease the building to Cinemassociates, of which Winkler was president and Robert Mills was vice president and general manager. The theater was closed on August 1, 1965 for redecorating.

On August 18, 1965, the theater reopened with the movie Mary Poppins under the new name of Cinema East. The policy of the theater aimed for showing first run and strong subsequent run family films, with children’s matinee on weekends.

On September 14, 1966, the Cinema East offer a new curved screen measuring 50’ wide x 17’ high, one of the largest indoor screens in the area at the time. Installation of the screen was coupled with a new process of showing films called the ‘Ultra Harveyscope Deep Dimension’, a process developed by Daytonian John Harvey. The process allowed the use of a deeply-curved screen with conventional 35 mm motion picture film. It was only the second time the new process had been offered to the public and the first it was ever held in a large theater. The first attraction on the new screen was The Russians Are Coming! The Russians Are Coming!, which was said to have held the audience spellbound.

Unfortunately the theater was destroyed by a fire in the early hours of June 5, 1973. The rear door was found to be open by fire inspectors, leading them to believe that the building had been broken into before the fire. Damage to the building was estimated at $100,000 with Winkler adding that it would cost another $250,000 to replace the theater.

The loss of the theater was a blow to the Belmont area. The Cinema East was well known for consistently showing both first run and revival films.

"I believe we have shown more quality films than most theaters in the city." said Robert Mills a few days after the fire.

The remains of the building were eventually demolished. A Kwik n’ Kold Drive-Thru is now located on the site.

Classic (1927-59)

817 West Fifth Street

The Classic’s grand opening took place on August 25, 1927. Built by Carl Anderson and Goodrich Giles, two men from Piqua, the Classic is thought to be the first theater in the United States to be built, operated and managed by blacks. Movies were shown downstairs, while live entertainment, such as Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald and Count Basie, took place upstairs in the ballroom.

"No one remembers that building like I do" said Guy Peters, a carpenter who helped build the Classic. "My sweat and blood went into making it. I mean that. When we were working on the ballroom area, and I was tightening the metal brace while standing on the scaffold, a steel beam hit me in the face. It shattered my glasses."

Peters, then only 21 years old, was taken to a doctor’s office across the street. "I couldn’t see anything and I was bleeding. They took me to specialists who had to take five pieces of glass out of my eye. They didn’t know if I would ever see again in that eye, but thank the good Lord I made it.

"That old show place was the center of the social world on this side of town. On weekends, couples were lined up around the block to get in there. You could see the movie for a ten cent ticket. They lined up before six o’clock to get in there.

Eugene Robinson used to go there for proms when he was at Roosevelt High School (Class of ‘34). At the time he listened to the Mills Brothers, who launched their singing career at the Classic. He also remembers watching some great performers entertain there, such as the Count, the Duke and Ella, too.

"Cars were everywhere; people just flocked to the place," stated Robinson.

Robinson remembers a promotion where the theater held a drawing during the intermission and gave away a new car each week for six weeks. The winning ticket holder received a new Ford.

"Six Fords." he sighed. "That really packed them in."

"But I tell you one thing, you had to be dressed when you went up there. No dress codes then like there are today. No sloppy jeans or that stuff. It was always a suit and tie at the Classic."

Anderson and Giles built the Classic because blacks were discouraged from attending the downtown theaters, according to Jim Francis.

"At the Colonial (Theater) on Fifth and Ludlow, they had seats for us to sit way up in the back balcony," remembered Robinson, "but only when an all-black cast vaudeville was there, and the best you could do at the old Keith on Fourth was this small balcony. Same with the Lyric and Midget (theaters)."

This attitude still prevailed in 1940. William Burger remembered an incident he was involved in while working as an usher at the Loews theater.

""When Gone with the Wind opened at Loew’s in February of 1940 the excitement and anticipation generated by that movie was unparalleled in the history of films. The box-office lines formed early and would often extend around the block. My duty at this time was outside on the street, patrolling the lines, answering questions, etc. I was an imposing figure, I fancied, in my uniform laden with brass and braid over which was worn a long, black, red-lined cape secured at the throat by a huge brass clasp. The regalia would have been the envy of a Balkan field marshall."

While young Burger patrolled the sidewalk in front of the theater, a group of young black people decided to go to the Loew’s to see Gone with the Wind, even though they knew that the Loew’s did not permit blacks to attend the theater.

"I believe the staff of Loew’s knew that a group from the west side had planned an appearance at Loew’s." remembered Elizabeth Hollaway, who had agreed to go along to the theater.

As the group got closer to Loew’s they slowly began to drop out, until only Hollaway was left.

"I was the only one that stuck it out." she said. "Some were watching from the street. It was a cold day, but I was sweating with anxiety."

"Patrolling the line...my eyes caught sight of this person" stated Burger. "She was ‘colored’! No time to waste. I hurried back to the theatre, in accordance with instructions, to report this crisis to the manager. He listened non-committally and sent me back to my post on the street. In less than five minutes, I noticed a police paddy wagon pull into the alley between Rike’s and Loew’s. The box-office finally opened and the line started moving. As the line moved, so did the ‘colored’ lady. As she got ever closer to the box office, I forgot about everything else and stood transfixed. What would be her fate?

"When she was the third person from the ticket window, the manager came out of the lobby and gently nudged her from her place in line. She protested, of course, and demanded her rightful place be restored. Her protest brought on the two cops from the paddy wagon, right on cue. She was arrested for disturbing the peace. The police escorted her to the paddy wagon and drove off."

"I was arrested, taken to the police station and then released" remembered Elizabeth. "I don’t regret my actions."

"I immediately regretted the role I played," stated Burger, "however miniscule, in this blatant denial of civil and human rights. But a thousand times a thousand mea culpas could not begin to compensate for the indignation and the pain that that lady was made to suffer on that morning.

"I retrospect, only one positive result was gained from that shameful confrontation. On that cold, slate-grey February morning on Main Street, Dayton, Ohio, a boy on the threshold of manhood did a lot of growing up."

The following year, in 1941, the Dayton NAACP convinced the downtown theater owners to begin admitting blacks.

Classic’s first floor theater had seats for 500, and though first-run movies were shown, the organ recital that proceeded the showing of each film, with first, Edith Quann, then Harold Shaw, was a popular attraction.

"The Classic had the best popcorn and the Palace (Theater) down the street had the best hotdogs" remembered Robert Schooler, who attended the Classic during the 1950’s.

Television helped kill off patronage to the theater, as did the building of I-75, which cut off the area from downtown.

"Frankly, if it hadn’t been for the concession stand, we couldn’t have paid the projectionist and ticket-taker" said Luther White, the Classic’s last manager.

The Classic closed its doors for the final time in 1959.

The theater was gone before the destructive riots in the 1960’s, but never stood a chance of reopening because of them. Other businesses in the area were burned, and their owners didn’t have the resources to rebuild. The strip along West Fifth Street, where once ‘You couldn’t walk...there were so many people here" according to Barbara Meadows, became an area of vacant lots and boarded up buildings.

In 1975 the theater was placed on the National Register of Historical Places. Montgomery County Historical Society had applied for landmark designation for the theater, whose style was eclectic, in the Georgian vein.

Loren Gannon, preservation officer of the local historical society, said the application was based on the theater being "a unique monument of great importance to the history of minority cultural achievements during the age of segregation".

Several attempts were made to save the Classic, the hardest effort coming from Gerald W. Davis, who pushed for the renovation of the theater into a cultural center and museum.

His efforts, as well as those made by others, never came together due to lack of money. Eventually the city of Dayton, through its Model Cities Planning Association, matched a grant of $8,000 from the Historical Society and purchased the building in 1978.

The following year the city sought a federal assistance to renovate the theater. Estimates to restore the Classic was $1,670,000. Their request was denied.

The Classic Theater Steering Committee was formed. They worked on saving the theater for a number of years, but by 1988 the building was almost beyond repair. Broken, unboarded windows had allowed moisture in, as did a hole in the roof that hadn’t been repaired.

Dean Lovelace, chairman of the Steering committee, said it was almost demolition by neglect. "Plaster is melted off the walls and brick is turning to sand. Some of us had been inside and realized it was in bad condition, but we didn’t have the critical eye."

Due to the safety hazard the building posed, the city approved the razing of the theater, which occurred in October 1991 at a cost of $40,000. The marquee was saved and moved to storage.

The Classic Steering Committee sold bricks from the building, the proceeds saved towards the hope of building another theater in the area some day. It is their hope that someday the marquee will be re-erected on the original site of the theater.

The Classic may be gone, but it will be remembered for its style and grace for many years to come.

"Oh, it was a beautiful place..." says Guy Peters . "Now it’s over. And to think, I lasted longer than the Classic did."

Dabel (1947-92)

1920 South Smithville

The Dabel opened April 22, 1947, to a capacity crowd. Mid-States Theaters, also owners of the Dale and Davue theaters, constructed the new theater at a cost of approximately $125,000. The Dabel had been scheduled to open the year before, but material shortages due to high demand after World War II delayed construction.

WHIO-AM radio held a contest to help pick a name for the new theater. Thirteen year old Carol Deitz and Mrs. E. A. Tinnerman each received $50 for suggesting the name of Da-Bel, a combination of Dayton and Belmont, the neighborhood where the theater was located.

The Dabel was designed by F. & Y. Building Service. Although the size of the lot was 98 by 200 feet, due to restrictions of the local zoning board the theater’s size was limited to 72 by 180 feet. The front of the theater combined green-veined white Georgia marble facing, trimmed with cream-colored terra cotta. The left side of the front represented a marble tower, capped with multi-colored terra cotta moldings which wrapped around the top of the tower and then travelled down the tower’s side to the ground. The remainder of the front consisted of buff faced brick.

The Dabel proved to be very popular with the public, even though the theater’s program in the 1950’s usually consisted of second run films.

In 1963 plans were made to convert the Dabel to show Cinerama films. The transition involved the installation of a wide, curved screen. Special wiring and booths to hold three separate projectors were installed in the theater, which reduced the theater’s seating capacity from about 950 to 742. The cost of the changes were estimated to run around $40,000. Projection equipment valued at $60,000 was leased from Cinerama.

Cinerama debuted at the Dabel on May 28, 1963, with This is Cinerama. The entire proceeds from the opening performance were given to the Dayton Variety club for use at Camp Variety, a camp located on Dogleg Road that was opened for crippled and handicapped children.

Cinerama was quite a success. On Friday and Saturday nights tickets became scarce. Dabel turned to selling "hard tickets", meaning that all the seats for each show were reserved. Patrons seemed to enjoy the idea of dressing up and acted as if they were going to see a play rather than a movie.

By 1980 the Dabel, having outlasted most of the other movie palaces in the city, had become the largest neighborhood single-screen house in Dayton, as well as garnered a reputation as the nicest indoor theater due to its large screen and plenty of elbow room for each patron. But by the mid 1980’s patronage to the theater had slowed down considerably. Plans were made to close the Dabel.

September 23, 1985, was slated as the theater’s last day. There was talk of razing the Dabel, or of turning it into an adult entertainment theater. Fortunately, Barry Weaver stepped in and stopped the wrecking ball. For seven years he kept the theater open, but competition from large cinemaplex theaters north and south of Dayton became too much. In 1991, as a final effort to keep the theater going, Weaver spent $15,000 on renovating the Dabel, installing new beige seats, brown carpeting and orange, brown and cream wallpaper.

With the help of John Harvey, who used to run the Cinerama projectors for the Dabel in the 1960’s, Weaver set out to recreate the theater the way he remembered it when his mother brought him to see It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World in 1963. Harvey installed a curved, 146-degree, 56 foot by 19 foot screen and installed his own one-projection system called Wonderama that duplicated the wrap-around Cinerama experience.

"We decided to compete with the first-run houses by promoting some oldies" Weaver said. "We got hold of A Star is Born, with Judy Garland and the missing footage. We showed Citizen Kane and some other classics, and we did pretty well. But it wasn’t enough."

Hard as it was to come to the decision, Weaver closed the Dabel in 1992.

"This is more than a little bit emotional" he said at the time of its closing. "If this hadn’t beaten up on me so badly economically, it would be even more agonizing. There’s just no other way out. We’ve reached the end."

Weaver faced a lot of criticism from neighborhood residents who didn’t want to see the old theater go.

"It really hurts me." Weaver said. ‘Perhaps they don’t know how much I invested, how much I tried. Those opposed to what I am doing look at me like I am a cad. What it comes down to is that we were struggling. I was losing $30,00 to $40,000 a year. I am the guy who has to make the call, popular or not.

"But it really hurts my feelings that some people think I am raping Dayton’s theatrical heritage, and that I am doing it for the almighty buck. I just can’t continue to eat up all my savings, and lose so much money. I tried everything I could. Nothing worked."

The theater was razed in October 1992. A Rite-Aid drug store was built in its place, but it, too, is gone. A Family Dollar Store now sits on the site.

Davue (1941-61)

2661 Salem Avenue

The Davue was almost called The Shafer, after Nick G. Shafer who, in partnership with Maurice White, built the theater. After some consideration the name Davue was chosen instead, since the theater was located in the Dayton View area.

When the theater was first proposed to be built at 2661 Salem Avenue, some objections were raised by people concerned by the fact that the theater would be very close to the Good Samaritan hospital, which stood only a few hundred yards away. Several conferences were held to discuss relocating the theater elsewhere, but in the end a building permit was issued for the theater to be erected at the original site.

Built by F. & Y. Building Service out of Columbus, the 914 seat capacity theater represented an investment of over $100,000. The front of the building faced Salem Avenue and had a modernistic (for the time) front of brick, glass and terra cotta. A tower of ornamental glass brick rose above the building, which had three storerooms on the ground floor in addition to the theater entrance.

The interior of the Davue offered the latest in comfort and technology, including special sliding seats which allowed patrons in the center to get out without requiring other patrons to stand. For those unable to easily hear the movie, special earphones were offered. The theater also had air-conditioning, something that was beginning to be expected by patrons.

During the theater’s grand opening on September 14, 1941, a brilliant new marquee lit the sky as the Davue held a special charity show that offered a sneak preview of My Life With Caroline. The proceeds from the near capacity crowd were turned over to the Crippled Children’s Department of the Barney Community Center (now known as Childrens Medical Center)

Beginning the following day, the theater opened as a double feature house, with the first feature beginning at 6:30 p.m. Admission was twenty-five cents for adults, children a dime. Davue’s policy was to show a double feature, the first movie usually a high quality first or second run feature, followed by a lesser known film. Unfortunately, the Davue lasted for only two decades, closing in March 1961.

Elite (1914-51)

417 Troy Street

Damage caused by the 1913 flood had forced several theaters in Dayton to close, including the Mystic theater located at 240 Valley Street. Thinking that the time was right to open another theater in the area, four men got together and formed The Elite Theater Company, which incorporated in May 1914. Joseph B. Zehnder was named President; Albert F. Kinzeler, Vice President; William H. Durkin, Secretary and Peter J. Zehnder acted as Treasurer.

The theater, with only 800 seats, was smaller than a lot of its cousins in the downtown area, but the stars on its silver screen were bigger than life. Ken Stanick remembered the theater quite well in its early days.

"I grew up in the Troy street area in the 1920’s," said Stanick, "Every night I would go to the old Elite Theater on Troy to see the latest silent film featuring Buster Keaton, Tom Mix or Rudolph Velentino."

The theater didn’t advertise much, depending on word of mouth in the North Dayton neighborhood to draw in patrons. And it worked. Although never a first-run house, the movies it did show were good family entertainment, combining westerns, comedies and adventure films that kept the customers coming back for more.

On February 25, 1943, the Elite held a special "scrap metal matinee" to obtain copper, brass and other metals needed for the war effort. The price of admission to the theater was a half pound of copper or brass or five pounds of any other metal. Prizes were awarded to patrons who brought in the most scrap.

Business slowly declined in the late 1940’s. After the theater closed in 1951 the Dayton Jewelry store moved in from across the street. The Dayton Jewelry store stayed at that location for over 27 years, finally closing in 1978.

Thomas Graphics now occupies the site where the old theater once stood.

Federation (1926-68)

Gem Cinema (1968)

532 Xenia Avenue

In the mid 1920’s the Dayton Federation Company erected a number of buildings which covered an entire block on Xenia Avenue between Steele and Fillmore. The new buildings included a recreation center, a branch of the City Trust and Savings Co. and the Federation Theater.

Opened on November 17, 1926, Mr. & Mrs. Philip Semelroth spared neither time nor expense in making the new amusement center the best offered outside the downtown area. The theater sat 700 people and was the largest suburban theater in the area at the time. A $15,000 Page organ manufactured by the Page Organ Co in Lima, Ohio sang along with the silent films that were being offered.

What is unknown by most of the citizens of Dayton is the fact that movies had played at that site years before the Federation came into being. Saloon owner Stephen Sierschula opened the Princess Theater in a lean-to next to his saloon in 1911. A year later it was renamed the Pastime theater. Patrons once crowded in to be thrilled by a Mack Sennet comedy or to listen to Johnny Wehner play the harp, but the old theater eventually closed in 1915. (See Princess)

The theater continued to prosper, especially after the installation of sound equipment to show "talking" pictures. The Federation was well known as the place to go to watch cowboys in the 1940’s since many times either the first or second feature on the double billing was a western.

"The Federation would show the Cisco Kid or Black Bart." claims Bill West, who used to hang out there when he was a kid in the late 1940’s. "Roy Rogers was one of my favorites. Then they’d have a Blondie movie or something, followed by a Batman or Flash Gordon serial."

In January 1963, John Holkan, owner at the time of the Sigma and Palace theaters, and John C. Keyes, vice president of the Victory theater, formed a new firm called H & K Enterprises for the purpose of leasing and operating the Federation theater. The Federation, operated until the month before by James Cotterman, reopened on January 18, 1963.

The Federation then became Gem Cinema on February 2, 1968. The new operator, Charles Hertel, said that the theater would emphasize family movies.

"I am doing away with films that stress sex, beach parties and hot rod groups," said Hertel. "I hope to feature films like the opening attraction, The Sound of Music.

The Sound of Music ran for about two weeks, then the movie Hawaii, but the Gem was closed by the end of the month.

The structure that once housed the Federation still exists and seems to be in very good shape. It looks to have the potential to be around for many years to come.

Grand (1915-38)

Gold’s Grand (1939-58)

601 East Fifth Street

The three story building made of light brown brick that once housed the Grand theater seems to have been built by the theater’s first owner, Aloys M. Schaefer. Evidence of this comes from a brick embedded in the structure that bears the name Schaefer above the main door.

Before opening the Grand, Schaefer was in the real estate business (Schubert & Schaefer). When he opened the theater, the two men broke up their partnership, with Shubert going on to open his own realty company.

The 300 seat capacity theater was located on the first floor on the left end of the building. By the time ‘talking’ movies came around in 1928 the theater was in the hands of Roy E. Wells. Wells would later sell the theater to Barnett Musselman. Musselman quickly grew tired of running the theater and sold it to Nettie Goldflies in 1938.

Nettie refurbished the old theater before reopening as Gold’s Grand theater on February 2, 1939. Patrons that came to watch Mr. Wong, Detective, starring Boris Karloff as a Chinese detective, sat in comfortable "body form cushion seats" and listened to Karloff’s bad accent emanate from new RCA sound equipment.

The success the Grand had in the 1940’s and 1950’s stems from the fact that the theater offered good movies, with a combination of first and second run films that ran from comedies and adventures, to westerns and the inevitable patriotic films during World War Two.

The original building still exists and plays a major part in a thriving part of Dayton known as the Oregon District. The site of the old theater is now the Ohio Budokan Martial Arts & Japanese Culture Center.

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