Mention the name Lyric Theater and my mind goes back to my childhood to elementary school days. My heart skips a beat…’’ will the Elizabeth Street building ever be rebuilt?’’ If it is rebuilt will it be the same as in the late 1940s when my three sisters and I walked Saturday mornings to its warm interior to see a movie?
The theater has been in the news as its owner is making some repairs for passers-by to be safe. I see its round ticket office, I see its windows, I see its brick structure and I see the days I was a child and so eagerly waited for Saturday mornings to go to a movie with my sisters and some neighbors. The morning was special also, along with the movie of either cowboys or comedies, as there would be a colorful and funny cartoon. These cartoons were like chocolate icing on ice cream — so good!
We girls, just years apart, would hold hands, skip a little down the concrete sidewalks on Elizabeth Street and perhaps sing a little tune.
Those were happy mornings, times gone, but not forgotten. One could say memories are forever, not like the broken panes in the theater window which have to be repaired; but no, the round ticket office looks like it is just waiting for “us children to come back to see its movies!’’
Just to drive by the lonesome theater on its busy corner of Tebeau and Elizabeth Streets gives me a sense of longing. A tearful longing to see my three sisters, my mother and father again. To have the theater rebuilt or just renovated would be the best Christmas present this longtime Waycrossan/Pierce Countian could want.
My family has gone to Heaven now, gone from Waycross, just as the double apartment we occupied so many years ago. It was located at 907 Elizabeth St., just a few blocks to downtown Waycross and just a short walk to the Lyric Theater. Some of the homes still stand on this street, most remembrances of time back then.
Saturday mornings were special to my sisters and me. We were given a quarter apiece to see a movie at the Lyric and to buy a bag of popcorn and a drink. Yes, a quarter!
Some mornings, I recall there would be an emcee and a lady assistant on stage, calling some children on stage to answer questions about characters from children’s books. There would be prizes for correct answers. Perhaps only age 8 or 9 I was asked “What did Ole Mother Hubbard put in her cupboard?’’ I was scared to death and finally whispered the correct answer “Some bones!’’ I was too timid and my voice too low. I wasn’t heard, so I did not receive a prize. I don’t recall how I was asked to go on stage.
My Elizabeth Street neighborhood was alive with families, many children. There were the Mullises, who lived in the other duplex apartment by us, the Stanfields, the Millers, the Joneses, the Conners, the Tuckers, the Reids, the Penlands, the Hodges, the Andersons, the Peacocks, Mrs. Welch, Laura Ferguson and Mrs. Green. (There were more I know, but I don’t recall.)
My mind is like a large scrapbook printed with all these memories of the Lyric and of course Mary Street Park (now Pernell Roberts Park) where we children had so much fun just about every afternoon after Isabella Street School. We played games, swung in the swings, dipped in the cool waters of the canal (which we shouldn’t have); played softball in the ballfield which is still there and skated about the sidewalk grounds.
During the week, waiting for Saturday morning to come, all of us kids would play “kick the can,’’ or make cities with houses made of large cardboard boxes. Yes, many was the time all families would sit on their porches, just chatting or looking at the stars in the Heavens. Remember these thoughts took place in the 40s, little before and little after. There were no televisions, no cell phones, no air conditioning, no computers for Facebook, learning or games. Our duplex apartment featured a large front porch, just right for sitting and chatting in comfortable chairs.
The Lyric Theater stands as a symbol of days gone by. Its strong structure still stands like a sentry helping so many to recall its grand days. May the theater continue to stand and one day become a grand structure just welcoming so many people like it did years before; its doors swinging wide open, offering hours of laughter, excitement and family togetherness.
