CRAB CARCASSES

Pair of Crabs oil on birch panel (8" x 16") 2017

At least once in a season we have a crab feast with friends and family on our patio. There are always a few, unmolested, left-over bodies and what the chef does not use for soup I save for my models  in the studio. I carefully wrap them in foil and put into the freezer. This pair here that I saved is about three years old. They are getting so brittle and faded that I might need a new gang. The one on the left you might recognize from some of my Old Bay and Crab painting. He was splendid. But now I only want to paint them without the props. Here's another posing solo below.

"Solo Crab" oil on birch panel ( 6" x 12") 2016

THE ICE BOX COMETH

"Cambridge Ice Box" oil on panel, 12" x 16", 2015

This past spring while visiting Dorchester County's Historical Society in Cambridge, MD  this  vintage ice box in their museum really captured my imagination. It made me recall our summertime  trips to the local ice house in Catonsville, MD. An electric refrigerator  always stood in our kitchen but ice was not abundant in those days. Two metal ice cube trays did not yield enough ice for fishing trips or our homemade snowballs. Freezer compartments were downright tiny and storage of extra ice was unheard of.

The ice house I remember was on Mellor Avenue in my hometown. We'd back into the loading dock and the ice man would step down swinging his tongs one-handed as he plunked a large chunk of ice  into the rear compartment of our station wagon. My father had the job of attacking it with an ice pick making the ice more manageable for what ever event we had planned.

I've often wondered about real ice boxes and how many times per week ice had to be delivered to keep the food from spoiling. In those hot Baltimore row house kitchens I'm sure there was a lot of melting ice. I favor this model because it's white and seems so friendly. I've seen many wooden oak types in antique shops but they seem too formal for my taste in vintage appliances. 

It's Pretty Crabby Around Here

This past weekend I felt very crabby. So I painted a leftover crustacean from a crab feast. He'd been in the freezer for a few weeks. Then I searched my collection of Maryland tin cans and found one with a crab on the front of it. This crab meat was from Cambridge, MD. The packing company is named Epicure which is still in business. It's nearly impossible to find tin containers of crab meat. Everything I see in the stores is plastic. So I'm  glad to have found this one at a flea market. Remember, if it's not Maryland crab meat, it won't taste as good. And included here below are the paintings I did over the weekend.

"Loner Crab" oil on panel (6" x 12") 2015

"Epicure Crab Meat" oil on panel, (6" x 8") 2015

WORKING WOMEN PAINTINGS and the BALTIMORE ORIOLES

"Betterton Lunch" oil on canvas

18" x 36"

Over the weekend I exhibited at HONFEST in Baltimore, MD. This street festival offers a venue for men and women to dress up as 1950s women at work and play.  Some are even awarded prizes for their costumes. It's always fun to watch the parade of people as they stroll by and/or stop in my tent. This year one particular visitor to my booth gave me a great surprise. As he began to speak to me I  gleefully interrupted him and said,
 "I know that voice! You are on our TV every evening as we watch Baltimore Oriole's baseball."
Gary Thorne,  MASN play by play announcer for the Baltimore Orioles, humbly acknowledged my remark and then began to talk about my paintings and prints of working women before purchasing several pieces.
The next day, I missed the game since I was at HONFEST for the entire weekend. A friend of mine was watching  the Sunday afternoon game though, as Gary Thorne honored the working women of Baltimore, mentioning HONFEST, while showing some of my work. What a thrill to have a blending of two of my favorite subjects...paintings of women and d'em Os.

"Operators Are Standing By" oil on board
24" x 24"

"Grossmudder with Her Chickens" oil on canvas
18" x 24

B & O Railroad Grain Terminal- Locust Point

As far back as I can remember the concrete, grain silos have dominated the once teeming shores of Locust Point in Baltimore, MD. These imposingly tall towers marked the hub of trains and grains in our port city. Built by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad in the early 1920s, the hulking structures and their odd looking chutes exported tons and tons of grain between freight trains and ships. However peculiar I thought the design was, it functioned extremely well. Since I could never get the image out of my head I decided to do a few paintings of it earlier this year.

"Locust Point Grain Silos" oil on canvas (12" x 24") 2014

As you stood on the Fort Avenue Bridge and gazed over the acres and acres of containers, buildings and railroad cars and tracks, it made a dizzying configuration that led you to comprehend the transportation puzzle. While I was working on this painting my generous friend and historian Wayne Schaumburg mentioned that he had some slides that he shot of this same location years ago as well. So I did this painting below using Wayne's slides.

"B and O Grain Terminal - Locust Point" oil on board (18" x 24") 2014

As with much of Baltimore's industry the silos ceased to serve the needs they once fulfilled and were transformed into luxury condominiums. The commercial developer has incorporated the silos into the updated structure which maintains its overpowering presence. And you can still watch the freight trains pass by on their way keeping our port business alive.

BALTIMORE BINGO !

"Baltimore Bingo" mixed media on board
(30" x 24") 2014

Bingo was the game we played on rainy days at the beach or weekend nights with our babysitter. The manufacturer's name of  the home version that we had escapes my memory, but I remember the excitement upon hearing the letter and number being called out. We would frantically examine our card to see if we matched it and then place the brittle plastic disc on the corresponding number announcing our victory when we had enough for the winning pattern. Who did not love to yell BINGO!

 In the early 1980's when I moved to Hampden in north Baltimore I saw bingo buses picking up passengers and transporting them to various bingo halls for grownups. I guessed that some people just loved the excitement of the game and spent their evenings in the casino-like atmosphere with other bingo lovers. The prizes could be as big as a TV for some lucky winners I was told back then. Now I think that this game is bigger and more serious.  I never boarded the bus so it will remain a mystery to me as I continue to fantasize about Baltimore bingo halls which are still very popular.

In my journey to collect vintage ephemera I stumbled upon a bingo card made in Baltimore by the National Novelty Company. Their address is 334 N. Howard Street - right in the middle of our once bustling  Baltimore shopping district. Additionally I found a letterhead dating from 1901 with an address at 106 East Saratoga Street in Baltimore…right around the corner. Perhaps this is where they manufactured the cards. 

Well  since my imagination does not give me much rest I just had to do something with my bingo thoughts so I created this mixed media piece based on the vintage bingo card in my collection. It is 30" high by 24" wide. I like the size and the big friendly numbers. I'm also creating 8" x 10"  archival canvas reproductions on panels that are ready to hang on your wall.

BINGO!

2014 Baltimore Calendar

Well it is here. My first wall calendar for 2014. Beginning with November 2013, it consists of Baltimore images from my original artwork.

Cover - unfolded - of Baltimore Calendar.

Package insert depicting all the images used inside the calendar.

Each month features a single, square image of one of my paintings. For example Domino Sugars is the image for November 2013. At the bottom of each month is a short description of the painting

and a bit of my stories about the picture. The calendar measures 10.5" high by 5.25" wide.

June 2014 might be the favorite month with many local Baltimoreans.

December 2014

So far the response has been very, very positive. I've been selling them at art fairs and shows in great numbers. You can find them in my Etsy shop. And they are also carried in some local shops and museums such as the Baltimore Museum of Art, With Gratitude, Hontown and the Baltimore Museum of Industry. The calendar price is $20.

For the cover I used a piece of my Food Galore collage which by now many of you have hanging in your homes and offices. I say this because sales of the poster size print have been very, very good since last year when it was introduced. And it really inspired me to do the calendar as a follow up project.

Food Galore in Baltimore

Thank you all for your wonderful enthusiasm and support of my work. I never stop being surprised that people like to look at what I need to create. Thank you again from the bottom of my Baltimore heart.

OLD BAY & NATTY BOH

©2011 CHARLENE CLARK
“Old Bay and Natty Boh and News”  2011
oil paint on board (16” x 20”)

As a collector of McCormick and other brands of spice tins, from time to time I like to compare the old to the new. The 1950 container of  Old Bay Seafood Seasoning (included in the painting above) features a crab, a shrimp and a lobster on the cardboard package topped by a golden tin lid. Baltimore Spice Company is given credit as the manufacturer since McCormick did not yet have the label. At some point the Old Bay label changed from “Seafood Seasoning” to “Seasoning for Seafood, Poultry, Salads and Meats." Look for yourself, it’s there on your pantry shelf now with a red plastic lid. National Bohemian beer bottles have changed, too. I have a few of the early rocket style bottles (one included here in the painting).  Mister Boh has evolved from a vague, one-eyed, yet fully mustachioed, character to a much bolder graphic version of himself. Even though our hometown beer, brewed on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay, moved out of state several years ago, the loyal following remains in Baltimore. In fact the Boh-mania among young people seems stronger than ever.  We just love our steamed crabs and beer !

Sweet Domino Sugars

©2012 CHARLENE CLARK STUDIO
“Sweet Domino” 2012
oil on board (20” x 24”)

Standing on the piers near the Baltimore Museum of Industry we can ogle the massive Domino Sugars Plant -- one of the last vestiges of Baltimore’s industrial heritage. Hardly a day passes by that a jumbo, hulking freighter is not tied-up to its docks as raw-sugar cargo is unloaded from the ship’s bowels.  The factory was opened for business in 1921 and has been refining sugar to deposit into the bright yellow Domino packages ever since . What grabs everyone’s attention is of course the over-sized, glowing neon sign that lights up our harbor every night. As neon signs continue to disappear, this one gets treated like the royal relic that it is. We all feel that this set of vintage neon tubes somehow belongs to us and that we must protect it.  As our cars zoom by on I 95 its radiant red flush across the horizon is a reassuring image that all is well in Crabtown for another night.

Some people have already asked me why I painted this building since I paint mostly things that no longer exist. Well my simple answer is that I had so many requests for it that I finally just did it. I  tried referring other artists' images since there are so many. However that did not seem to suit the collectors of my work. So I say thank you for your positive response to this one and please know that it was an enjoyable project. Now I want to tour the inside of the refinery.

PHILADELPHIA -Ferry Boat that worked on the Chesapeake

"Philadelphia Ferry Boat" oil on board (18" x 24") 2012

Who does not get excited at the sight of a ferry boat? The sounds of the cars and buses being loaded has the percussive, clattering rhythm of an island song for me.  The deliberate energy of the crew while hurrying the drivers to maneuver precisely into the compact space on board is exhilarating and nerve wracking. Like all public transportation, they run on deadlines. During the crossings there is always something to do. Perhaps you like to ogle the other passengers while enjoying the spume of the sea.  And then there is the anticipation of the destination at the end of the ferry boat ride.

 You  already know that I sure wish we had ferries back on the Chesapeake Bay. The double-ended ferry in my painting here is named "Philadelphia," but she has an important Baltimore connection. She was built at Chester, PA in 1899 for the Pennsylvania Railroad. They needed this beautiful  ferry boat for their crossings on the Hudson River at New York City. After a while, the Philadelphia served the Pennsy in Baltimore for the crossings to Love Point on Maryland's eastern shore. She was  called "Smoky Joe" as she made her three, daily, 24-mile trips across the bay from Light Street in two hours and 20 minutes. The upper deck had a restaurant which served fresh seafood from Kent Island. "Philadelphia's" last service was in 1948 for the Delaware-New Jersey Ferry Company. She is shown here with a final paint job before being scrapped.

Bohemian Baltimore Days of Wine and Movies

What an absolute hoot to read Robert Maier's new book about his trials, errors and successes  surrounding underground movie production in Baltimore and beyond. It made me laugh out loud all by myself over and over.  It is an intelligent and forthcoming memoir describing  his unglamorous yet glamorous life making underground movies. "Low Budget Hell: Making Movies with John Waters" begins before 1973 when I met  Robert in the film department at University of Maryland Baltimore County. I was a naive yet ambitious would-be filmmaker like the other the students in our small group. Robert was extremely supportive of us as we were left on our own to figure out how the equipment worked. As the staff member in charge of the film cage, Robert made sure that the valuable cameras and sound recording equipment were checked out properly.  He suggests in his book that our often absent department head  dreamed of being an independent filmmaker more than he cared to teach.

 Most importantly Robert describes his business and friendship with a younger John Waters still riding the crest of the "Pink Flamingos" wave. John was introduced to the film department members via the aforementioned enterprising professor. Waters had a desire to improve his production quality and they figured the students would provide some intern assistance,too. I remember my initial sighting of Waters  entering the door to the editing room/office where he and another student  quietly edited "Female Trouble" on the precious flatbed Steenbeck. And wasn't that Divine recording obscene sound effects for the film's post production in the screening room -- where students otherwise sat on a waterbed for classes?

On Friday nights hordes of us gathered at Bertha's in Fell's Point for cheap wine (about 50 cents a  glass) and hip conversation about French or Italian cinema. The soundtrack was by Miles Davis, Stan Getz or Gato Barbieri. I think the bartender's name was Brown who played piano in various Baltimore nightclubs.  We dreamed of making films and soaked up all the bohemian atmosphere that we could hold. There was a fooseball table that really provided  a place to lean or sit rather than for sporty amusement. The "restroom" was about on par with any gas station men's room of the 1960's only this one had very imaginative and inspiring graffiti. I loved meeting and watching the characters from Waters' movies. Most of them were friendly yet oh so cool. The mood of this era was what had been sorely missing from my suburban childhood and I felt that I finally found the off beat, colorful and artistic atmosphere where unconventional creativity was encouraged.

"Love Letter to Edie"
by Robert Maier.

  Within this bohemian time frame of my life, in 1975 I worked for Bob as a key grip on his movie "Love Letter to Edie." That is a tale to tell on its own sometime. I  will write about it here later perhaps. Working on "Love Letter" is where I acquired a sincere appreciation for Edith Massey. It was not easy at all for her to remember her lines -  often adding curse words that were not in the script. Whether she realized it or not, Edith gave many of us permission to be what we wanted to be without fear of  ridicule. Edith's thrift shop was close to Bertha's and she was open late for the the bar trade on weekends. Bertha's closed at 1 a.m. when we promptly moved down the street to Pop and Sis's bar called Zeppi's (now John Stevens'). The elderly Pop and Sis served 25 cent beers and so we had our nightcap there. Sis once told me that for her vacation, when they closed the bar for a week or two during the summer, all she wanted to do was sit on her front steps of her row house and watch the neighbors. I knew what she meant. As we closed that bar around 2 a.m. sometimes we'd witness a gang fight, a la West Side Story, in the metered parking lot at the foot of Broadway. Occasionally it ended with a boy getting wounded by a switchblade and the girls crying for their boyfriends. That signaled it was time to head home to my roommates and roaches in Bolton Hill. 

I highly recommend reading "Low Budget Hell." Robert gives an honest and humorous account of just  how low a budget can go. The book is chock full of little gems and secrets. A good example is his description of  Waters' metamorphosis from Prince of Puke to Broadway Musical Darling.  Robert can tell a story and I am so happy that he told this one for now I know I did not imagine some the things I thought I saw during those free-spirited college days. 

For a more information or to purchase visit his web site.  ""Low Budget Hell" is also available  on Amazon.

Baltimore Streetcars- The Overlea Loop

The Overlea Loop was the end of the line for many of Baltimore, Maryland’s streetcars until operation ceased 1963. Trusty Number 15 in my painting is about ready to pull into traffic on Belair Road and trolley across town to Walbrook Junction in Northwest Baltimore. I like this rest stop where passengers and motormen could relax and get a hotdog or a Seven-Up. It was probably a good place for men to gather to ride to work or talk about their ideas or accomplishments. Presently I cannot think of public places like this where you see men swapping stories or sharing advice. I guess they are on their computers like so many of us.

Harley's Sandwich Shop

"Harley's Nightshift" oil on canvas (14"x 18") 2011

Who cannot remember, at least one time, eating a Harley Burger very late at night? They cost 69 cents and were just what some of the underage drinkers needed to help sober-up after sharing too many six-packs of bargain beer or Bali Hai wine. In addition to families, Harley’s also served the night shift worker. My friend Al worked until midnight and like clockwork at 12:30 a.m. he rolled his salmon colored Corvette onto the Harley’s parking lot on Rt. 40 W in Catonsville, MD. In fact his timing was so dependable that the ladies at the counter had his favorite pizza waiting for him every week night. Harley’s was brought to you by Baltimorean Harley Brinsfield who in my memory had the best local radio show featuring jazz. Harley’s record collection was fabulous and his dedicated listeners tuned in regularly. His show included adds of course for his sandwich shops - located all over Baltimore.
At the close of each show Harley played "Sailing Down the Chesapeake." Toot Toot!

Elmer's Musical Bar- Pratt St. Baltimore

On Sunday after mass, followed by supper at grandmother’s house, my father used to drive his family around Baltimore city. One place that I always requested to drive by was Elmer’s Musical Bar at Pratt and Light Streets. Looking past the occasional boxcar sitting in the middle of Pratt Street, one could see motorcycles crowding the parking lot. It looked very exciting but I was warned that it was a very rough waterfront "joint." How rough? Well someone told me that the bands had to play behind a chicken wire cage to avoid being beaned on the head by flying beer bottles. Another man told me that patrons would ride their motorcycles right inside the bar on rainy days. Everyone agrees that the music was exceptional. Probably the draw for such a crazy mix of Baltimore males was the terrific musical venue that was open on Sundays--uncommon in those days. I don’t know if women ever ventured inside Elmer’s. For sure there was no “ladies’ entrance.”

MORGAN & MILLARD - Roland Park Pharmacy and Tea Room

In the days of neighborhood stores, retail window display was vitally important to most merchants. And in the world of independently owned pharmacies and lunch counters the competition was intense. But Baltimorean Mr. Charles J. Neun of the old Morgan Millard pharmacy and tea room in Roland Park was decidedly the king of window display -- winning two cars in 1953 for his clever exhibitions. You can read about it here in the following newspaper clipping. In my painting I liked to include the waitresses who worked in his tea room.

Baltimore News-Post Friday, October 30, 1953

“Lighting struck twice for a local druggist as Charles J Neun was awarded a 1953 Chevrolet, first prize in a contest sponsored by the Cliquot Club Company of Millis, Mass. Neun was the top contestant among more than 2,000 entries in a twenty-state area. But the payoff is that only last month Mr. Neun was also the winner of another automobile offered by a nationally know soap company. Mr. Neun participated this summer in a display competition... sponsored by Cliquot Club.The top prize winner in a brief ceremony at his place of business Morgan & Millard, Inc., 4800 Roland Avenue, was presented with the keys to the new Chevrolet by... Baltimore Cliquot Bottler, Mr. Joseph E. Scheiner, 1613-15 Aliceanna St.”

The Cliquot Club marketing department was really on the ball. They set up competitions for window display among 2,000 of their buyers. They motivated the merchants to decorate their shops with as much advertising for their product as possible. Mr. Neun was on the job after reading the announcement below.

Mr. Neun had much of his display photographed and cataloged so he could submit his car-winning application.

And even the customers got into the act.
I sure wish this kind of artistic resourcefulness among stores still existed. There would always be something new to grab your attention in the neighborhood. You just can't beat this for eye-catching creative clutter.

The Circle in Dundalk, MD

"BBQ" oil on canvas (18" x 24")

Affectionately referred to by many as “The Circle” this deco style diner is no longer located in the Highlandtown/Dundalk area in Baltimore, MD. It is rumored that in the 1960s it was THE big, East- side, hang-out for motor heads who packed it with jacked-up, souped up American cars. Conversations about “popping wheelies” and “laying rubber” could readily be overheard. Former patrons have said that until it was sold in the 1990s tasty Bar-B-Q sandwiches were prepared by the same husband and wife team for many years. If you walked up to the side window to order you could see the lady in the back room surrounded by gallons of milk and ice cream while preparing milk shake after milk shake. The husband kept a close watch on how the patrons behaved. In 1987 I had my first experience with the restaurant. As I pulled up in my huge 1976 Buick, we had the only car on the lot. So we casually parked and walked up to the service window on the side. Since we were inexperienced and new we had no idea of the parking regulations. The man sternly made us readjust our parking before he would make our Bar B Que sandwiches. You see since it was a round building the patrons were required to park on a diagonal representing angled rays around the building. Made sense to me once I knew the rules.

OLD BAY SEAFOOD SEASONING

"Old Bay with Crab Wallpaper" 2010

oil on board ( 11" x 14")

Oh boy are we Baltimoreans possessive of our Old Bay seasoning! As far back as I can remember, it was coveted by just about everyone I knew. After all most of my friends and family loved to steam and eat the bountiful blue crabs of the Chesapeake Bay region. Gosh we were so proud to have the spice manufactured right here and equally delighted to share our secret with outsiders. Many families shipped the cheerful yellow tins to the less fortunate who lived outside the area where Old Bay was nowhere to be found. I seem to remember an air of mystery about the ingredients. My best, childhood-friend Charlotte, who still loves food, and I studied the box and considered duplicating the spicy seasoning. Somehow we never attempted this in either of our mothers' kitchens.

"Old Bay with Cherries" 2010

oil on canvas ( 16" x 20")

The original recipe was invented by a German immigrant named Gustav Brunn. According to the Old Bay web site, the original name was "Delicious Brand Shrimp and Crab Seasoning." It was wisely renamed "Old Bay" which was the name of the steamship line that had a huge building located on Light Street -- approximately where the Harborplace pavilion now sits.

"McCormick Seafood Seasoning" 2010

oil on board (8" x 8")

Of course in my personal collection of old spice tins, which are mainly the McCormick and Bee Brand products, I have an assortment of Old Bay and related tins. Here is an interesting observation assisted by memory. The 1950 container of " Old Bay Seafood Seasoning" features a crab, a shrimp and a lobster on the cardboard package. The lid is a gold colored tin. Baltimore Spice Company is given credit as the manufacturer. I remember that McCormick at the time had their brand of Seafood seasoning which was supposed to mirror the flavor of Old Bay. It was not popular around these parts for obvious reasons. The packaging was colorful and had a nice illustration of a red crab and some shrimp on the label. But to loyal Old Bay lovers it felt unreliable and uncool.

"Old Bay" 2010

oil on canvas (8" x 10")

Not sure when Old Bay decided to change the label from "Seafood Seasoning" to "Seasoning for Seafood, Poultry, Salads and Meats" but it is there on the shelf with its red plastic lid. (see it for yourself on your own pantry shelf - I rarely paint objects that are still available) I have read that in 1990 the Baltimore Spice Company let go of their precious Old Bay and laid it in the responsible hands of our McCormick and Company now located in Hunt Valley, MD. Thank goodness we still make this precious commodity right here on the outskirts of Crabtown. I shudder to imagine the uproar if ever the manufacturing of"our" beloved spice was relocated.

And here is a sample of one of my other spice tin paintings:

"Ginger, Allspice, Cream of Tartar" 2009

oil on canvas (11" x 14")

MCCORMICK FACTORY, Baltimore

"McCormick Factory" 2010

oil on canvas (22" x 32")

Most Baltimoreans reminisce about the 1989 exodus of the McCormick spice factory from Baltimore,Maryland's inner harbor. It was an olfactory overload to be in the neighborhood of the Light Street building and inhale the aroma of whatever spice they were making that day. During the Sunday drives of my childhood I often requested to include a pass-by of the giant white building with the huge spice tins on the roof top. It still gives me a thrill to remember the cheerfulness it added to the harbor with its jumble of sagging buildings, steaming ships and hulking boxcars. Today you can often get a whiff of the spices but in a different location. Just drive towards Hunt Valley, MD on I 83, roll down your window and breathe in the fragrance!

Baltimore's Block - Midway Bar

Baltimore’s “Block” was much larger in 1987 when this painting was completed. In those days I could walk and sketch up and down Baltimore Street at night for about 30 minutes before I knew it was time to leave. While the first floor of each building was brimming with activity I always wondered what the upstairs rooms were like. For example what would that pizza taste like if one had climbed the steps next to Charlie’s Tattoo parlor and asked for a slice? In all my visits to the Block I never entered any of the bars or clubs. I preferred to imagine the activities from the street.

ELKRIDGE DRIVE-IN - The Passion Pit

'Elkridge Drive-In Movie Theatre - 1984"
digitally altered photograph
©CharleneClarkStudio

A serious “passion pit” is how this drive-in movie theatre on Route 1 in Elkridge, MD is remembered. A group of high-school girls from a neighboring Catholic prep school patronized the theatre on a semi-regular basis. The young women made a pact that if any of them happened to be there with their date on a Saturday night they should always make an appearance at 9 p.m. in the ladies’ room. Once assembled they would catch up on the latest gossip about each other's boyfriends and take inventory of their outfits for the night. Being out of their dreadful gray uniforms for the weekend was such a thrill that their social outing clothing included plenty of colorful Lady Bug mini-skirts, Villager sweaters, Bandolino flats, beehive handbags and whatever the Casual Corner and Hutzler Brothers stores were promoting that season. They really dressed more for each other than their dates, I think.
The men have different memories of the old Elkridge. I will ask now. How many boys did you pack inside the trunk of your father’s car while passing through the admission booth of a drive-in movie? I know the theatre received its share of these non-paying customers until it closed for good in the early 1980s. I have received numerous confessions from grown men who relish in the recounting of how they “got in for free” while sharing a dark, cramped space with other dare-devil boys from surrounding public schools such as Catonsville, Woodlawn and Glen Burnie. The Catholic school boys from schools such as Mount St. Joe, Cardinal Gibbons, Loyola, Calvert Hall and Archbishop Curley participated in this unlawful past time as well. I have never heard from any women who as girls, were asked to behave in such an unladylike manner.
My last check on the visual status of the theatre occurred in 1999. A sorry looking hole on the side of the road was all that remained of the behemoth drive-in. Conflicting stories of the Elkridge’s demise still survive. Some have said it was a bankrupt contractor’s deed while others blame nature’s fury. I tend to believe the couple who told me that a tornado ripped through in the late 1980s and tore a down the giant screen. Presently I have heard it is being developed but have not seen it myself.

"Elkridge Drive-In Admission Booth-1984"
digitally altered photo
©CharleneClarkStudio
"Elkridge Drive-In Concession Stand-1984"
digitally altered photo
©CharleneClarkStudio