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I love old buildings, so when I heard about the Open House being held in an old, abandoned movie house by the Friends of the Cerrito Theater I was delighted.  Here was the perfect opportunity to explore a hitherto off-limits piece of local history!  I figured the Open House would consist of a few dowdy old historical preservationist types poking around in the dust, dating brickwork, discussing matching funds and sneezing.  As it turned out I was dead wrong.

For one thing, before the doors even opened a long line of people had collected in front of the Theater along San Pablo Avenue waiting to get in.  Many of these were older folk, impeccably dressed and elegant.  The women wore hats and scents like spring, while the men sported suits that hung in lines clean enough for Frank Lloyd Wright.  These people were seriously styling.  One middle-aged woman offered her elderly mother a chair to sit on while they waited in line.  Her mother said something like "I'm not sitting down, this is San Pablo Avenue.  This is the place to stand up and be seen and I am going to stand up and be seen."  People in the line were exchanging stories about what the Cerrito Theater and the City of El Cerrito were like back in the old days, when San Pablo Avenue was a strip of half-chic, half-rowdy gambling joints and clubs and the hills were covered with pastures and farmland.

The doors finally opened and everyone rushed in to the Theater.  The Friends had done a great job organizing the open house.  There was a band, there was free excellent food (brownies, coffee, sushi, sodas, the cake pictured above . . .) donated by local merchants, there were displays about the history of the theater lining the walls.  There were tons of people admiring the theater and exchanging reminisces, plus a few little kids running around and enjoying the large open space in the way that little kids do.  The only thing lacking was light, which is why this picture is blurry.  (It couldn't have anything to do with my camera skills.)

Last revised 05/17/02.  Contents copyright 2002 Suzanne P. Johnson