Black-Market Popcorn --- Now It Can Be Told


Frugal breakfast bore unexpected fruit when I made my customary 6:00 a.m. entrance at the little diner where morning oatmeal is served. As I walked by a booth out front, I overheard snatches of conversation between one of the cooks and her grandfather, him preparing to attack a plate of biscuits and gravy. "Back when I worked at the theatre…" he said, which got my attention. Could this be a veteran of long past days at the Liberty, Allen, or even the generations-defunct Rose? Turns out he worked at the Allen from 1941 through 1944, his job to hustle popcorn. Wesley couldn’t be bothered about movies they ran, but his memories of that corn were vivid as to permeate our dining area with a smell of molten butter. Seems business was slow in ’41 when Wesley initially took charge of the counter (popcorn all they had for concessions, with no candy, and but one coke machine in the lobby). He made do with sluggish sales until a fateful day he added extra seasoning to the mix. Now, if you’re a connoisseur of theatre popcorn, the matter of seasoning can often draw a line of demarcation between a tasty treat and negation of your movie-going experience. Wesley’s enhanced popcorn was a sensation, with sales rocketing. The boss was delighted. Only problem lay in the fact that there was a war on, and popcorn seasoning was a rationed item. You could only get one 450 pound barrel every four months. Wes had used up the Allen’s barrel in six weeks. Not to worry, said senior management, and then, in a hushed aside, "I’ll get that seasoning…" Sure there was a war out there, but here was 1500 bags of popcorn being sold each Saturday, and at a nickel a bag, that’s seventy-five dollars. For this kind of windfall, rationing be hanged! Wesley is still loathe to speculate just how his boss got the extra barrels. All he knows is … they was got. One’s imagination runs riot at the prospect of a small-town exhibitor dealing in black-market popcorn seasoning. How did he acquire it? What sort of criminal element was involved? Was our humble community honeycombed with dealers in wartime contraband? Did sinister Axis agency lend assist to obtain the flavorful salt and butter combination? It’s fortunate I wasn’t born yet. Otherwise, I might have been sitting there eating popcorn at the expense of our boys in uniform. For all I know, this web of seditious intrigue extended all the way to Berlin or Tokyo. Perhaps it is best this story remain hidden. The Allen burned in 1962, Wesley the only one left who knows of its secret past. Let us mark this file --- confidential.


By way of background, here are 1941 ads for the Allen, and its rival up the street, the Liberty. The Allen ran second behind the Liberty, both in seating capacity (about 300 less of them), and the fact the Allen had no stage. Note the Liberty’s promise of "Deluxe Big-Time Vaudeville." They had stars making personal appearances as well. Wesley remembers seeing Wild Bill Elliot up there once. By the way, the Allen's run of Carolina may have been one of the last times the 1934 Fox feature was seen anywhere, as it is now a lost film, pretty incredible that a major studio feature of such late vintage should vanish from the face of the earth, but there it is. If anyone knows if and where Carolina survives, do make contact, and I’ll gladly update (Henry King directed a cast including Janet Gaynor, Lionel Barrymore, and Robert Young --- above is a still). For obvious reasons, this is a film I’d really like to see.