They Closed My Drive-In

People often tell me their memories about drive-in theaters.

It usually goes something like, "We were seeing (this movie) and it was (this weather) and I was with (first name last name)".

Okay, so the memories, themselves, aren't always interesting.

But what is interesting is that going to a drive-in theater actually gives people a detailed memory of their experience. And that’s coming from a society that can barely remember we did this morning.

It isn’t easy to make a strong impression anymore. But a drive-in still manages to do that.

If your drive-in is still open, that is.

To me, there's nothing like seeing a movie outside. Our musty little American movie theaters, for all of their high-falutin' talk about heritage and tradition and prestige, are really just stuffy old rooms with newly-installed recliner chairs where you're forced to watch ads you don't want to see.

Don't get me wrong; movie theaters have a huge amount to offer us. And I grew up going to them. I think that our movie theaters, especially our historic ones, deserve every bit as much of a chance to be preserved and revered as our drive-in theaters do. But part of the movie theater experience, at least for me, is getting to say, "It smelled weird in there" or pointing at all the posters in lightboxes lining the halls like you're surveying the candy at the concession stand, deciding what you'd like to treat yourself to next. I love the movie theater experience, with all of its highs and lows.

But it's not the drive-in.

In March 2019, the Cascade Drive-In in West Chicago, Illinois, announced that they would be closing. Permanently.

The theater, which opened in 1961, was one of the last drive-in theaters in the Chicago suburbs.

This has left me very depressed. The Cascade Drive-In was my drive-in, the one I have been going to for as long as I can remember.

I've read endless articles about the closing. The scandalous announcement that they wouldn’t be reopening in the spring, like usual, was made on Facebook (who's surprised?). Apparently, Cascade was leasing the land from an owner who suddenly refused to renew the lease at the end of 2018, with no apparent reason except greed and malice. Many articles say that the owner didn't report any new plans for the land to the city, though others report rumors of the land owner’s intentions.

The way Cascade reported this seems a bit dramatic and one-sided, even for someone like me who believes in keeping our drive-ins open. I hate to say it, but the way it went down sounds like a case of a suburban theater pointing the finger at big business, which is a tired old tale. But, on the other hand, business can be ruthless, so who knows?

After the announcement, Cascade sold off all of their equipment and materials, including those tinny old speakers we hung over the car window if you couldn't get the radio station where they played the film's audio to come in. Every time I drive past the site these days, I still see the giant metal screen looming over what must now be an expanse of vacant gravel surrounded by a high wood fence.

Could we have saved the Cascade Drive-In?

Drive-In theaters were hit hard at the end of 2013, when the industry decided to no longer distribute traditional film reels to theaters. Everything had to go digital, which was a six-figure upgrade for theaters (like many drive-ins) who were still operating on the film system.

Cascade made the upgrade to digital, a smart decision considering how packed that 1200-car lot was on summer evenings, especially on the weekends. The owners of Cascade insisted that their business was "flourishing" when the land-owner decided to take matters back into their own hands, but I am skeptical about this as well.

As much as I'm sympathetic to the Cascade owners, and as dearly as I wish the theater was still open, I still have to say it: there was a lot that could have been better about Cascade.

The place may have forked over the money to upgrade to digital, but several other upgrades were sorely needed. The concessions stand was a total dive. The bathrooms were housed in cement and looked like they'd never even heard of bleach. The events, if there ever was one, was poorly marketed and scrappy. The management was unfriendly, which was perhaps the worst problem.

I get it. It ain't easy enforcing rules in a public space when people are left to their own devices in their cars, but the folks at Cascade used to be pretty rude about it. The management would drive golf carts down the aisles of cars and shine flashlights into the offending cars, usually because people had their car on when they weren't supposed to, or if they were parked in the wrong space. Sometimes even if they'd brought in food that they weren't supposed to.

I think the most annoying thing about Cascade was their little feud with the hot dog restaurant, Scoobie's, which was pretty much their only neighbor. No, seriously - it's a long expanse of highway, and then there's Scoobie's and Cascade right next to each other.

You'd see signs all over Cascade, as well as on their website, screaming that food from Scoobie's Hot Dogs was forbidden to be taken onto the premises. Why? Because Scoobie’s apparently refused to dim their giant lights so that patrons at the drive in located directly behind their restaurant could see the screen better.

I don't know the history, but the idea that a serious business like Cascade and a hot dog restaurant like Scoobie's couldn't figure out a way to work out their differences seems unbelievable. What is this, kindergarten? Was it really necessary for Scoobie's to flat out refuse to make any accommodations for their neighbor, a specialty location that was beloved by so much of the community? And was it really necessary for Cascade to then react like an angry kindergartener and make posters to slander their only neighbor?

It’s things like this which make me raise my eyebrows at the whole situation. And the rumors are flying.

I've heard that the land is being zoned for a bunch of different things, none of which I've seen any proof of. The one that still gives me nightmares, though, is that someone told me that the land owners were in talks with people in waste management, of all things.

That's right. Garbage. Where my drive-in was.

Again, there's been no proof of this. But the very idea that a rumor like this could circulate tells you how bad it is. Our drive-ins, which, in my humble opinion, should all be registered as locations of historical significance, are being thrown around in the same sentence as “garbage dump”.

So given all of Cascade's issues, at the business level and beyond, could we have really done anything to save it?

It would have been ugly and it would have required a lot of hard work. But I think we could have done it.

I know I just listed a bunch of reasons why Cascade was terrible, but I only know these reasons because I went there all the time. Because I loved that place. I was heartbroken to hear that it was closing.

That doesn't mean that my eyes were closed to the many problems they had, including their business plan, their marketing, their professional relationships, and their management. Not a great mix.

But if you take one look at the movies that are being made right now, you’ll see how much our society values familiarity. Every movie, every TV show is being remade. Anything with an audience is being sought after. Because people like familiar. People like having memories.

A drive-in is a historic site where people have gathered to experience entertainment for years. It stands for the history of the movies. It is a symbol of so many things that Americans value, both past and present. And if we’re going to look to the future, a drive-in is a great way to advocate for media memories at the movies without just carbon-copying an old classic film and putting it on screen again (*cough* Disney *cough*).

But the thing I regret the most about Cascade's closing is that there was so much potential. Think of all the things that could have made Cascade friendly, exciting, and truly thriving. This could all have been done in a way that preserves and reminds people of the way that drive-ins fit into our national history as well as our contemporary entertainment environment. Drive-In movie theaters have a unique business. Now that times are changing, we can't allow others to slip away.

I'll be the first to tell you that the Chicago suburbs needs more places like Cascade. Not gross dives or petty business feuds. But unique experiences that make the crazy seasons in Illinois worthwhile. It was lovely to have a piece of history just down the road and I am grieved to have lost it. I wish it had been handled better on all sides.

If you need help saving your drive-in, let me know. I want to help.