Well I've made you wait long enough. Today we're getting down to the nitty gritty - literally. I shared last week, the Lyric Theatre has long been abandoned. According to the experts, Dan Liles, Cecil Whitmire, and Tom Cronier, it opened in January 1914 and was a vaudeville theatre at the time. In November 1914, the new Independent Presbyterian Church ( my church!) held evening services there until the church was built. The Lyric closed in 1958. It reopened in 1974 as the Grand Bijou, showing classic films. After that it fell into a little "disrepute" and showed ahem....adult films under the names Foxy/Roxy. You have to love those names! 1978-79 it closed its doors as a theatre. As sad as it is to see the theatre in its present state, it's heartening to me that there are people like these tireless volunteers that are looking after it and hopefully will find funding. Until then, let's look around shall we? Watch your step, it's not safe in a lot of places and there are numerous "critters" calling it home.
The upper balcony back in the day, was for "coloreds" only. They purchased their tickets at a ticket booth on 18th Street, went up a different stairway, and sat on benches instead of seats. Not a practice anyone in Birmingham is proud of , but a historical fact that needs to be noted. Today, the benches have been replaced. The top photo is a row of seats in the balcony. I am thinking the design is Art Deco but I could be totally wrong. While Tom and I were stomping around up there, I spotted a large pigeon sitting in the window (see second photo as proof) and a bat was zipping all around, a little disconcerting. Those of you that know me well, will be amazed that I didn't run flying out of the place screaming like a banshee. Oh the things I endure as your intrepid photographer in the name of City Daily Photo!
ON A LIGHTER NOTE
You get a bonus photo today. My five cute chicks all dressed up in their Easter duds, and I am very pleased to report that there wasn't a major meltdown over the photo shoot this holiday. Behold the power of "popsicle bribes".