Skip to content

Memory Lane: Readers share fond memories of the drive-in

For decades, drive-in theatres and North American youth culture went hand-in-hand, but as the 1970s faded, the culture changed and drive-ins began to disappear. Drive-ins may be few and far between today, but Sudbury.com readers have fond memories of those years when the drive-in was king

During the week following our previous column, I had the good fortune to be at the Lasalle Court Mall picking up pizza.

 I parked close to the mall facing Lasalle Boulevard. I sat there for a good five minutes taking in the scenery around me, imagining myself taken back 45 years to the opening of “Grease” at the Lasalle Drive-In.  The large screen backing onto the road, the rows upon rows of mid-century automobiles waiting for the pre-show to end and the feature to begin.

Unfortunately, I was not around for the heyday of this or any of the other local drive-ins, but with your memories (and a very vivid imagination) I and others like me can relive (ever so fleetingly) the magic of this mostly lost form of entertainment. 

Now grab a bag of buttered popcorn, a hotdog and a pop (oh and don’t forget to get your buddies out of the trunk), and let us now delve into some of your memories (and boy were there lots to edit down from) of the Sudbury Drive-In culture as projected on the widescreen of Life (now in CinemaScope).

The memories of the Copper Cliff Drive-In, the first of the four to close, rests exclusively in our distant memory bank like a black-and-white film.  The large white projector screen of this drive-in was built on a rise in the hill facing what is now Robinson Drive. The cars that were lined up in the drive-in lot not only had a great view of the movie, they also had a clear and unobstructed view of the three smokestacks of the INCO complex in nearby Copper Cliff. 

Of course, the rise that the screen was built on also allowed for an unobstructed view for those who wished to watch the latest Hollywood fare for free, such as Lillian Watters who remembers watching movies from a nearby hilltop with her cousins. 

Steve Lolas wrote in to assist in narrowing down the dates of this drive-in’s bitter end that were alluded to in the previous column. 

He recalled that “the drive-in closed in 1961 or 1962 and (that) the screen was blown up in the early 1970s.” Prior to its closure, being a resident of the neighbourhood, he remembers that “every night we would take our lawn chairs, go to the property line, turn on a speaker and watch movies for free.”

Billy Hodben, a member of the Facebook group “Sudbury Then and Now,” posted a photo of a poster from the Copper Cliff Drive-in that advertised the chance for “the Ladies” to obtain a full set of imported cut glassware absolutely free by coming out to a show on weekdays. This appears to have been a way to attract couples and families to the movies on the slower nights of the week.  What a far cry compared to the plastic cups that are “given away” (purchase necessary) at the theatre these days.

It was also reported the August 1970 tornado that passed through Sudbury even made a cameo appearance at the drive-in while bulldozing its path of destruction through the area, when it briefly touched down near the old projection room.

Based on the sheer number of memories that came in response to the previous column, the all-time box office winner on the Sudbury drive-in scene was the Lasalle Blvd. Drive-In. With its bright yellow facade, and “Drive-In” written in bold blue block letters, it stood out in stark contrast to the surrounding neighbourhood, which was originally entirely made up of family farms such as the Temelini family farm across the street.

The Lasalle Blvd. Drive-In made itself up to be a family-oriented location in order to encourage parents to bring their children and enjoy an entire evening of fun. Kerry Assiniwe shared that she remembers going there as a kid and her parents “packed (their) station wagon with (all) six kids!” She recalls the “playground in front or side of the big screen that (they) played at until the movie started.”

Clint Orton said he “spent so much time in there in the 1970s being smuggled in by parents and then basically being allowed to roam and meet up with friends and hang out.”

As Veronica Heindl Shrigley wrote, in a sentiment surely echoed by the majority, she “had some of the best childhood memories going to the drive-in with my family.” 

Donald Sauve “love(d) the drive-in movies … went with (his) kids all the time. They enjoyed it (falling) asleep in the station wagon back.” 

And while it was mostly family friendly, not always. Some nights if the movie had a restricted rating, folks like Lorraine Young would get turned away. She remembered she was “refused entry because (she) had two young kids (even though) they were fast asleep.” Susan Darling “loved that place (however) went there with her 18-month-old asleep in the back seat (desperate for a night out) and was rejected because it was a movie restricted to those 18 years old and over.”

Unlike the Copper Cliff Drive-In with its hills, empty fields and not much else (a landscape not unlike one found in a Clint Eastwood western), as time went on the LaSalle Drive-in began to be surrounded by houses and this led to ample opportunities for the local residents to take in a movie without leaving their property. 

Carol Quesnel “used to watch it from the front window of our house.” While,Debbie Vanhorn “would watch movies from (her) Dad’s bedroom window.” And, Col Ette “used to watch movies from (the) backyard or sneak in.”

High attendance from parents and their children didn’t stop dating teens of the time from getting a little physical, although some would have to be a little sneaky about it. Jocelyne Roy remembered taking “my baby sister on one of my dates … put her in the front seat with her bottle, and was in the back seat with my date. Watching (she thinks) a great movie.” 

Wendy Latendre remembers “going to the drive-in with my mother, three sisters, one pregnant, and sitting outside watching the other people making out in their cars.”

The drive-in even brought out the entrepreneurial spirit in some of the kids who frequented the lot. J. Roch Lalande related that he, his brother “and other local kids used to wash windshields for $0.25 there.” Chris Cee wrote that they “would go there after movies were finished and collect beer bottles,” which “helped fund (his) first boat when (he) was a kid.”

As we finish up with the memories of the LaSalle Drive-in, a few people (including Jesse Hawes and Muriel Mg) have reminded us of the poetic sense of humour of the owners of the theatre. When winter arrived and it was shut down until the spring, they would put up on the marquee: “Closed for the Season, Reason: Freezin’”

Now for a short Intermission from our Feature Presentation, to hear from a couple of former drive-in staff members.

Gisele Aubin-Benigno: “Worked there from 1977-1980. Great coworkers and wonderful memories”

Allan Nielsen: “One of the best summer jobs I had as a teenager.”

And now on with the show …

The memories of the 69 Drive-In, especially as it relates to its surroundings, match up very closely to the environment often seen in 1970s-1980s schlock and exploitation movies. 

Nearly all of the memories of this location invoked a feeling of hot and muggy days out in a mosquito-infested forest. As Claire Valjakka confirmed, “We fed the mosquitos there a few times.” 

Harold Valli echoed that sentiment. “What I really remember were the stupid black flies,” he said. 

Of course, what would one expect from a drive-in theatre built in the middle of the bush less than half-a-kilometre north of the shores of McFarlane Lake?

Rivalling the popcorn, soda and other tasty fare of the snack bar, the 69 Drive-In sold mosquito coils (most likely the biggest selling product) in their concession stand. Geoffrey Lee wrote that “prior to the film starting, they would say to buy some to not be bothered by mosquitoes.”

Unlike the family-oriented surroundings of LaSalle Blvd Drive-In, the memories relating to the 69 Drive-In had a decidedly more young adult bent to them. Rob Pappin remembers watching a double bill there, in his brother's Trans Am (straight out of “Smokey and The Bandit”?) of “The Poseidon Adventure” and “Towering Inferno” (arguably two ’70s drive-in classics). 

Glenda Murray-Kurkimaki recalls “many great memories of the 69 Drive-In.” One of those included her sister's boyfriend’s 1968 custom Newport, which was an unwilling participant in that drive-in tradition of sneaking in extra spectators. 

As she recalled, “It could hold at least 10 people in the car and another 6-8 in the trunk.” 

One reader remembers hiding “in a few trunks to get in the 69 Drive-In,” but when that reader got their very own vehicle, a 1965 Volkswagen, they couldn’t return the favour as “there was no way to hide people under that front hood.”

And, finally, we circle back to the 69 Drive-Ins credentials within the Canuxploitation film genre of the early 1970s. The Sudbury Theatre Centre recently presented an early reading of a developing play by Andrew Paulsen called “You Paid For It; They'll Pay For It”.

 The play is set at the 69 Drive-In in 1982, and owner Lawrence Zazelenchuk is a character in the play. You will remember him as the writer and producer of a little-known zombie horror-exploitation film called “Corpse Eaters”. The movie was filmed entirely within the city of Sudbury on a shoestring budget of $36,000 raised by Zazelenchuk himself from the proceeds of the 69 Drive-In.

Unlike the other three drive-in theatres that graced our region, the life and death of the Star-Lite Drive-In remains to us a mystery that would be quite at home within a Hitchcockian thriller. The Starlite was located in Hanmer on the north side of Linden Drive for a still unknown period of time. It can be seen in aerial photos from 1975 with its large white movie screen facing the enormous CN railyard south of Capreol. 

The only tangible evidence of this location within the Sudbury historical record are some newspaper advertisements for movies and two photos of an extremely charred and melted drive-in theatre screen.

At some point during the 1970s, the theatre allegedly fell victim to arson from which it never recovered. This drive-in’s story could very well be “worthy of a Netflix special” as reader Johnny V pointed out. That comment is an ironic twist on this theatre’s legend as the movie viewing format mentioned to showcase its story would be its third-degree replacement (Theatre to VHS to DVD to streaming).

Well dear readers, let the credits roll, our show is over for this month, it’s time to pack up the car and head home.  Thank you to everyone who shared their memories of the Drive-In scene in Sudbury.  And (to borrow the end credit card from James Bond movies) Memory Lane will return with … well, you’ll just have to wait and read in two weeks.

Jason Marcon is a writer and history enthusiast in Greater Sudbury. He runs the Coniston Historical Group and the Sudbury Then and Now Facebook page. Memory Lane is made possible by our Community Leaders Program


Comments

Verified reader

If you would like to apply to become a verified commenter, please fill out this form.