![]() “I want to buy a 16mm Ampro movie projector to show feature-length films.” In July 1957 I slipped into our living room and stood behind Dad as he read the Milwaukee Sentinel, the morning newspaper. Demolished in 1984, The Egyptian passed into memory like the pharaohs and flaming urns she emulated in her lobby. Box-style, multi-plex cinemas located in shopping malls replaced The Egyptian and other glamorous stand-alone movie theaters. Movies ran at The Egyptian until she closed in the mid-seventies. I imagined a theater-sized Ampro, the lion of The Egyptian. When I turned in my seat while I watched a film, I looked back at the projection room. Passageways, festooned with curtains, simulated flaming urns, and velvet drapes represented a Middle Eastern bazaar. In her confines, I experienced terror, mystery, and heartbreak of Hollywood’s finest.Ī palace of entertainment and intrigue, The Egyptian’s lobby contained statues in the image of the god-kings of ancient Egypt, pharaohs who stood adjacent to simulated Roman columns. Located on Teutonia Avenue in northwest Milwaukee, The Egyptian ran feature-length films. On weekends, Dad and Mom took my sister and me to their favorite movie theater, The Egyptian. Dominant in the war and early post-war period, Ampro in the mid-fifties faced competition from lower-priced projectors and television. Renamed Ampro Corporation in 1940, the company expanded production of their most popular product. In 1926, the Chicago-based company broadened their line of silent film projectors to include sound to meet demand for new talkie films. ![]() From the precipice of a rocky bluff, he roared to the crowd below him, as if to say, “Look at me.” I remembered Ampro, the lion of Nicolet.Īmpro’s predecessor company, Universal Stamping and MFG Co., established in 1913, produced high-quality 16mm movie projectors. He stood at the edge of Nicolet’s projection stand and sent images across a valley of students to a movie screen at the opposite side of the auditorium. A metal plate attached to the projector bore the name Ampro Precision Projector. Vertical cooling fins draped from the housing like a lion’s mane that flowed from the head of an Egyptian sphinx. An upright cast iron housing contained the projector’s lamp, film drive mechanism, and lens. I wanted a movie projector like the 16mm Ampro model 20 at high school.Ĭast iron constructed, of art-deco design with a textured, tawny-colored surface, model 20 at Nicolet resembled a lion on four stump-like legs. A projector that could accommodate larger, feature-length reels would meet my need. I wanted to run feature films, movies that lasted for more than thirty minutes in a dark room. When I changed reels, I destroyed the mood of a darkened room, the feeling of escape inherent in viewing motion pictures. Each swap required lights on, and the next film had to be threaded through the projector, a process prone to error. When I ran more than one short at home, I had to change reels. Known as shorts, these films included home movies, cartoons, and newsreels that covered one year or less. I got my classmate’s attention.ĭad’s Keystone projector ran movies on small reels of eight to ten minutes in duration. When I flipped the switch to start a film, I stopped all conversation and turned heads toward the screen. I was above them.Įach time I showed a movie, I climbed carpeted steps to the projection room over the heads of my classmates. ![]() I don’t remember how I became the sole school projectionist. ![]() Eight mm home movie technology produced lower-quality images, so Dad used the same state-of-the-art film format as Nicolet. ![]() He filmed home movies and taught me how to run films for family entertainment. I wasn’t a host.ĭad owned a Keystone brand 16mm movie projector. Hey, I only ran the projector and loved movies. I ran the movie projector at high school and some kids saw me as a host. Never by choice, you accepted your assignment. Sometimes jocks joined academics, never greasers. School athletes, also known as jocks, made up the rest. I ran with a group of friends who fixed old automobiles. Hosts were theater majors, part of a group of college-bound kids known as academics. “Such nice boys and girls.”Ī week later I pondered my terse reply. I sat with my mother in the auditorium at a special event. At Nicolet High School in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in March 1957, students, known as auditorium hosts, collected tickets, distributed programs, and escorted classmates and guests to their seats. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |