The Elkton Drive-In Theater - 1952

The Elkton Drive-In Theater - 1952

Some of my favorite memories came from the Elkton Drive-In Theater, which was on the corner of Route 40 and Whitehall Road. I went to the drive-in many times as a teenager. How can I explain the enchantment of that theater? I wish everyone could have experienced it. As you steered your car up next to the ticket booth, you could hear the music from the loudspeaker and see the suspended screen high in the distance. You’d then cruise around the lot, checking things out and looking for a good place to park, not too close nor too far from the screen and fairly close to the refreshment building. You’d pull into your spot close enough to the pole that held a small, metal speaker. You’d hang the speaker on the door, adjust the volume, settle back, and wait for the show that darkness would bring.

You had the whole evening ahead of you in the privacy of your car—entertainment in comfort and seclusion. There you were, out-of-doors with the windows down, and maybe a breeze would stir through your car, cooling you and making you feel as if you were on top of the world. Then, abruptly, the show would begin: first an ad about the available food and drink, then the coming attractions, then the cartoon, and finally the movie. Time would go by so fast that soon you’d start your engine, turn on your lights, and get in line to begin what seemed like a long exit.

I took my date—my wife-to-be—there many times. And, of course, I was always interested in watching the movies. I remember one terrific movie called “The Hand,” about a murderer’s severed hand that came alive and started strangling people.

Anyway, as I said, I wanted to watch the shows but, do you know, all my date wanted to do was smooch. That’s right, and it was awfully hard on me. Man, the windshield would get all steamed up so that I couldn’t see the screen. I recall wiping off the inside of the windshield with the palm of my hand. But it was no good; it would fog up again in no time. In fact, all of the windows would steam up from her romancing. The only break I got was at intermission, when I could stumble out to catch my breath and visit the refreshment shack to load up on hot-dogs, French fries, and sodas. Then the movie would resume and it all started again. I don’t know how I ever survived! What do you think?

“I went to the Elkton Drive-In many a time,” recalled Freddy Rhoades of Chesapeake City. “One time my girl and I fell asleep while the movie was running, and when we woke up the place was deserted and the screen was blank. Then the car wouldn’t start because the battery had run down. But Jimmy Simmons, the guy who ran the place, was still there, so he gave us a jump. And it’s a good thing he was there, because we’d have been in big trouble.”