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Robert Apple |
The San Francisco Fox came into my life about the time I began high school, in 1959. My father, Robert ("Bob") Apple, who had worked as a theatre manager since the late 1930's, had just been promoted to Managing Director of the San Francisco Fox.
My brother, Geoff, and I had literally grown up in movie houses that Dad was running at various times in his career: these included the Crest Theatre in Reno, Nevada (1950-53), and several East Bay venues that he managed simultaneously - notably the California Theatre in Berkeley (his home base from 1953-1958), the now-demolished Campus Theatre near UC Berkeley's Sather Gate, the U.C. Theatre on University Avenue, the Fox Oakland, Tower, and Grand Lake Theatres, as well as the old Chimes Theatre that once stood proudly on College Avenue near the present-day BART station.
When I caught my first glimpse of the San Francisco Fox, however, nothing I had seen or experienced in my 14 years to that point had prepared me for sheer immensity and opulence engineered into every corner and crevice of this, the ultimate movie palace! In fact, I was stunned. I could not intellectually process the enormity of what I witnessed as I strode through the (then) abandoned Diamond Horseshoe seating (complete with box seats) below the expansive loge section. As a theatre rat, I always knew to look for the loge seats as the best ones, but the fact that the loges themselves were so expansive and were even upstaged by the "horseshoe" seats - amazed me.
I was awestruck as I realized how much a culture invests in its architecture, only to have it outrun by changes in society: the double elevators that used to transport patrons several stories to the fifth balcony were being used to store popcorn for a candy counter that didn't even exist for the first half of the theatre's short existence! A hospital room on the mezzanine was either in disuse or occasionally used by staffers for a break room! My father's office was a full seven stories from street level, accessed only by a single elevator (with no stops in between), or, more perilously, by a narrow series stair flights to this remote spot! The office was cavernous and unstaffed in 1959, replete with dusty, ancient Royal typewriters - but Dad's office was richly paneled in dark woods, and had its own tiled bathroom!
And of course, there was the 5,000 seat auditorium. It sat empty for most of the time in the late 50's and early 60's, as Hollywood was having a serious identity crisis, and television had siphoned off the never-ending theatre crowds that had packed the place before World War II.
It was to Dad's great chagrin that he had reached the pinnacle of theatre management - to his mind - but felt he now had to breathe some life into this beautiful enterprise, just to keep it alive! I think he, and the rest of my family - including my mother, who had attended on opening day in 1929 with her mother, as well as my grandfather - who was concurrently working as the sole advertising artist for Fox West Coast Theatres in the back "office building" section of the Fox building - all felt that it was his (our) duty to somehow turn the Fox around. But it was Dad who took this most to heart.
In the years from 1960, to the theatre's demise in 1963, my father embarked on a promotional "war" designed to demonstrate to his company - Fox West Coast Theatres - that the Fox could again be profitable. He booked every sales, convention-related, or other event he could, including a performance by the Bolshoi Ballet in 1961 - at the height of the Cold War! He wanted to show that the Fox was worthy of cultural events of a large magnitude.
Then he apparently hit upon the obvious: capitalize on the very heart of the Fox - its fabulous Wurlitzer organ. The organ was one of the largest pipe organs in the world (the theatre actually had three organs – two in the main auditorium, and another one on the mezzanine!), and the main organ was so large that you could actually get lost wandering among its seeming acres of pipes!
Dad enlisted local theatre organ groups, and began sponsoring midnight organ concerts, given after the day's movie fare had been run. Although he was scoffed at by many theatre hands, the concerts proved to be a near runaway success. Organists like Everett Nourse, Tiny James, Gaylord Carter, and George Wright, all played the Fox organ for public performances during this period. The sound was spectacular, the organ designed for the Fox's unique acoustical qualities.
Dad persisted up to the day - probably sometime in late 1962 - when word finally came down that the Fox was to be demolished. He had had the help of a "Save the Fox" ad hoc preservation group, and had persevered against all odds, but these were the most abysmal years of public architecture in the United States, and the larger historical preservation movement was ten years in the future. The Fox closed it doors in February 1963 - a few months after the Cuban Missile Crisis, and a few months before President John Kennedy's assassination.
It was also the year I graduated from high school (June 1963). For me it was a devastating and traumatic 12 months - for my Dad it seemed a point of no return, as well. Our innocence was over. Even though he was further recognized for his promotional ability, by being put in charge of the Oakland Paramount, Grand Lake, and Fox Theatres, I sense that he never got over the tragedy of the San Francisco Fox.As I write this today - 40 years later - I realize that I never have, either.
- Richard Apple, February 12, 2003
Related Links:
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Robert Apple at the Fox
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