Robert Went Blind

I spent most of my young years on the heels of my dad, who worked happily in many movie theaters. By the time I was 17, I was assistant manager of a nice, 416 seat theater that had just been built. Movies were really big then; there were no VCR's, and what television there was signed off at 10:30. If you wanted entertainment, you went to the theater.

My best friend since the sixth grade was Robert. He was a shy sort, with a stuttering problem. Robert was a healthy boy as far as size goes; he was twice as big as I was. This particular Sunday night, I knew he didn't feel well. He had a pallor about his color and he told me he thought he had a fever. He said he had spent most of the day in bed. Naturally, I was afraid this was going to lead up to requesting the night off, which would have been a terrible idea. We had a long line already forming at the box office as opening time was only about 5 minutes away.

If you looked outside the theater on that particular night, you could see dark, rolling clouds and hear distant thunder. Bright lights of distant lightning would flash as if a helicopter kept switching its spotlight off and on. The storm was headed our way.

This was the era of Irwin Allen adventure movies, such as "Airport" and "Towering Inferno". The movie we were showing that night was "Hotel", and it was one of those where everyone started out in dreamland, and a nightmare ensued.

I was very surprised, as the storm approached, that we had a full house...416 people; we even had to turn some away. It was extremely busy at the snack bar, as we had about 15-20 minutes to serve all those people before the feature began. Robert had already sauntered upstairs to the projection booth. In those days, the movie began with numerous previews of coming attractions, along with a Warner Brothers or Woody Woodpecker cartoon. Everything went by the numbers as the previews began, and our full house began to settle down for an adventure. There were no unusual nor foreseeable problems except that darn storm. It was really rumbling now, with thunder like cannons and sharp, near, lightning strikes.

The previews and cartoon ended, and we were 20 minutes or so into the feature when the storm was right on top of us. My worst fear made my skin crawl. We had emergency lights in the auditorium, but could I control 400 people, some of whom I was sure would panic.

About the time that concern crossed my mind, there was a sharp crack and everything went dead. My main concern was the audience as I stood in the back of the auditorium, but something out of the blue caught all our attention. With the power off, there was dead silence with the exception of a voice screaming, "Oh God, help me Donnie, I've gone blind!" The panic in Roberts voice was accentuated by him bouncing off the plywood walls of the projection booth.

The emergency lights shown on the audience, and they began laughing hysterically. I told them everything would be fine, we would get the power back on, but I needed to attend to my projectionist before he fell down a major flight of stairs.

I turned on my flashlight and approached the stairway, careful that he didn't drag me down with him, but he was still in the projection booth screaming about going blind and bouncing off the plywood walls, completely ignoring the laughter of the audience. The projection booth was pitch black as my flashlight shown on Robert. He seemed quite relieved as he said, "Donnie, thank God...I'm not blind, am I?"

"No, Robert, you're okay. Now, sit down on this stool and tell me why in the world you thought you were blind."

He sat down, stuttering more than usual, began his rather short story of blindness. "I didn't feel well, so I laid my head down on the rewind table and closed my eyes. When I did that, the power must have gone out, and when I opened my eyes, I couldn't see anything. I thought because I was sick, I had gone blind...it was horrible!"

I struggled to keep a straight face. This was my best friend, and I wanted to say, "Didn't you hear the projectors wind down and the sound go off?", but I couldn't bring myself to do it. By the time I got him a glass of water, the storm had blown over and the power resumed. "Hotel" started again.

At the end of the movie, patrons were leaving and still laughing about the intermission they had so thoroughly enjoyed. Bobby finished his chores upstairs, and came down with a worsened look of pallor. He stuttered goodnight, got in his car and went home. I hope he had pleasant dreams.