Leonard the Usher


Leonard Cravath was about to graduate from Brighton High School, class of 1939, when his aunt, who worked in the liquor store next to the Coolidge Corner Theatre, told him the theater was looking for ushers. After interviewing with the chief usher, he got the job, as well as a flashlight and uniform. Len now lives in the Chicago area with Irma, his wife of 57 years. After contacting us with a generous offer to donate the pastel illustration that once hung in our lobby (see below), he agreed to share his CCT memories.

1940. Leonard Cravath, former Coolidge usher and assistant theater manager:

"Ushers were paid $8 for a 40-hour week. The work shifts were from opening to 6 pm and 6pm to closing. The movies ran continuously & the last show ended about 11:30.

After promotion to assistant manager, I was paid $28 a week. When the union folded, hours were adjusted downward, but maintained the union rate of pay.

Coolidge personnel at that time consisted of:
An Engineer, a Stagehand, three projectionists (two were to be on duty at all times, and eight ushers, as well as a Chief Usher and Doorman.

There was a signaling button behind the chief usher's station. It went to the projection booth. One buzz meant "make louder". two for "make softer" and three for "picture problem".

The box office was a kiosk abutting the sidewalk, in between the two sides, the entrances. You went in through four double doors into an outer lobby, which was about twelve feet in depth to another set of four double doors. The ticket man stood there and took tickets before you could enter the inner lobby. You went down a few steps to a landing where the candy counter was. Mary and Eleanor, who were not theater employees, ran the concession. Mary eventually married Cliff, the Chief Usher.

Down on the lower level, you entered the Men's Lounge, a room of about 20 by 30 feet, completely surrounded by leather sofas and chairs, with a slate floor. There were two doors around to the street side & one was the Men's Room, and the other was a battery room, which supplied emergency lighting to the theatre if the power failed.

At that lower level was a door, underneath the orchestra level, where there was a storeroom, the ushers' lockers and an Art Department. There was another exit door out to the parking lot (limited to about 10 cars), and the fire escape. The theater stage had an organ pit in front of it.

In the back of the orchestra seating was a set of stairs going up to the balcony and under those stairs was a checkroom. Ushers were positioned at the head of each aisle with the chief usher standing at the entrance to the back of the orchestra lobby. There was one usher stationed in the balcony. At the top of these stairs was the Ladies' Lounge, which was just slightly smaller than the Men's Lounge. It had nice cloth-covered chairs. Next to that was the theater office. The balcony was in two levels - upper and lower balconies. I believe there were a thousand seats in the orchestra and another three hundred in the balcony

There was no entrance to the projection booth from inside the theater. You had to go outside through the balcony doors to bring the reels up or down, and you traveled the fire escape outside to get to the projection booth. I don't know if this was because the film was nitrate, and therefore flammable, or if it was simply not to disturb the patrons, but I can tell you it scared the life out of me to go up those stairs, which were about three feet wide, to get the reels.

Shows started at 1:30 every day. Three full shows a day: a newsreel, a cartoon, a co-feature (B Film), a single trailer for the coming attraction and the main feature. Orchestra seats cost 33 cents, the Balcony was 28 cents. Just before I left to go into the service there was big jump & the tickets went up by a nickel! The popcorn machine was only added just before I left. Before that it was just candy.

There was a water-cooled air conditioning system. The water was pumped up to a cascading rack on the roof but on a really hot day, that didn't take a lot of heat out. In the winter, patrons waited in the lobby, so it was no problem. (When Len was told that now they have to stand in a line outside, he said "Oh, you cruel people!")

Uniforms had pants that were blue with a dark stripe down the side and short, tight jackets with a marine-type collar. The Chief Usher and the Doorman wore formal jackets. The two cashiers were tall beautiful girls. In those days, all ushers were male. To get into the box office, you had to crawl under a half door.

The theater was cleaned by a work crew of three who came in at night. Cleaners were not theater employees.

The checkroom was unmanned. Patrons would ask the nearest usher for the checkroom use. No charge for that service, although a tip to the usher was occasional.

There were about a dozen aisle seats fitted with headphone jacks for use by hearing-impaired patrons. They asked for the service when entering. There was no charge for that.

Doctors who might be called were asked for their names and an usher would make note of their seat.

The theater maintained a mailing list of those receiving a monthly listing of coming attractions and other items of interest. This was processed on a manual addressograph using metal address plates. This was a chore handled by the ushers on a rotating schedule. At one time there were about 800 names on the list.

The Coolidge had a very highbrow reputation. We would always comment on the number of chauffeur driven cars letting their occupants out to see a movie there. People came from Boston, Newton, etc. It was a high-class institution. We had an organ interlude before the feature went on.

The theater maintained its own art department, then located in the area beneath the orchestra level. It produced its own posters, easels, cutouts and overheads. The material then furnished by the producing studio was just not good enough for the Coolidge.

The Art Director was Jack Callahan. He did all the displays - everything in the lobbies, including the lighted overheads over the doors. The only thing he didn't do was the outside casements. we'd use studio posters for that. (Len donated an 11" x 16" pastel portrait of Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier, done by Callahan as part of a lobby display for Wuthering Heights. It's now on display at the theater). Jack went on to achieve a measure of renown, and was a member of the Rockport Arts Association. He passed away in 1983.

About 1940/41 the owner, Morris Sharaf, built the Brookline Village Theater, which I believe was eventually turned into a supermarket. I was transferred down there for a while, where I was assistant manager. I had to be there from the time we opened until we closed. It was a long day!

I remember the day I had to stop the movie to make an announcement from the stage that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. I offered to give people their money back if they wanted to leave, but very few did. I was there about 6 months and then went back to the Coolidge as assistant manager. I stayed until I left for the service in September, 1942.

I came to the Coolidge as a kid, but I don't really remember any particular film I saw there until I started working there. John Wayne was always a big hit. When we got Gone With the Wind, it was a great coup. We weren't the first suburban showing, however - The Circle beat us to it. Wuthering Heights was a great success. We were tipped off in running the film that at a certain point the projectionist would crank the sound up as high as it could go, during a scene without dialogue or background music. The silence was broken by the sudden sound of a door slamming. So you can imagine a few screams in the place - it even startled me!

One time we had a bat in the theater. We chased it out when everyone went home, but first it flew up into the screen and I had to announce, "It's only a little swallow - don't be concerned."

Jack Markle was the manager of the Coolidge. He was dating one of the cashiers. Every night, Dusty, the cop on the beat, would come into the theater and walk me over to the bank to deposit the day's receipts. It was the Brookline Trust Company, on the corner of Beacon and Harvard. Across the street from the theater was a very popular restaurant, Jack and Marion's.

I enjoyed my job. I learned how to control crowds. I wasn't a big movie buff. At that age, I was mostly interested in girls. The theater was a good place to meet them."