In “Here,” a pioneering 304-page graphic novel, Richard McGuire shares the illustrated history of the corner of a single room and of the events that occur in that space throughout all time — past, present and future.
It’s a fascinating concept and one that, once it gets in your head, is difficult to shake.
So it was on a recent Sunday morning bicycle ride across Salisbury, I got lost in contemplation waiting for the signal to cross Route 13 at Main Street.
Nearby is a barren lot that serves as the materials staging area for a downtown construction project. But in another time — when I was growing up — the site was home to The Boulevard — a big old barn of a theater where all the top films were shown, back before the movies left for the malls.
In the 1970s, The Boulevard was a palace. Pastel back-lit glass blocks surrounded the sidewalk ticket booths. Inside the bustling lobby, the air was heavy with the aroma of buttery popcorn. The seats in the theater were crushed velour, just like on Broadway. Left of the huge movie screen, which was concealed until showtime by two heavy curtains, was a dim purple phosphorescent clock that advertised White Jewelers. Before the main attraction there was an animated ad for the Top 40 radio station WJDY. It had two naked cartoon characters who flashed by in a split second. It was shocking.
The Boulevard got so packed during Saturday kiddie matinees that if you arrived too late the only place to sit was in the front row, where you looked straight up at the screen, like a bug at the base of the Washington Monument.
On the second floor was a balcony with even more seating, though it’s my recollection that folks who went up there were more interested in exploring each other than watching any film.
Now travel in time again, Richard McGuire style, and picture that same space on the night of May 26, 1958, when one of the pioneers of rock ’n’ roll took the Boulevard Theater stage.
Bill Haley and His Comets, who had sold more than 35 million records and appeared in five movies, “played for a packed house of hand-clapping, foot-stomping teenagers,” according to Jerry Kelly’s story on page 1 of the
Salisbury Times.
Riding a string of hits including “Rock Around the Clock,” “Shake Rattle and Roll,” “Crazy Man Crazy,” and “See You Later Alligator,” Haley is most likely rock’s first megastar to perform in Salisbury. He had just returned from a two-month tour in South America.
Kelly called Haley “a mellow, mild-mannered man” who would “stop the performance” if his teen audience got too rowdy and left their seats, yet his rebel influence inspired budding rockers all over the world.
“I had no idea about doing music as a way of life until rock 'n' roll hit me,” John Lennon once said. “What specifically hit me? It was ‘Rock Around the Clock.’”
After the concert, the revved-up Salisbury teens gathered around the band’s bus, where autographs were signed.
My Aunt Charlotte waited in the crowd, but when her turn came it was time for the band to leave. Seeing her dejection, Franny Beecher, the Comets’ guitarist, asked her to write down her address and promised to mail an autographed 8x10 photo after the band returned home to Chester, Pa.
True to his word, a week later, it arrived along with a hand-written letter from Rudi Pompilli, the Comets’ sax player: