Remembering The Almo

Published 9:49 am Saturday, April 26, 2008

‘Mouse House’ the newest project for one of Poulsbo’s favorite builders.

POULSBO — The facades of historic downtown Poulsbo continue to change. New businesses move in and others go, but for a town with a past as rich as its Nordic culture, the memories of days gone are still just moments away. Stories from days when roller skates were the trend in footwear and Front Street shops were the city’s business hub remain bright and enthralling, like the best of old-time picture shows. Today, The Almo Theater is one of those changing facades — a gem of history with a future as versatile as its past is beloved.

Remembering The Almo

Gordon Stenman remembers it as the ‘Mouse House,’ because rumor had it mice made homes for themselves on its balcony.

Chet Gausta recalls the Pathe Newsreels that ran before each motion picture.

Seeing “Rio Rita” starring Bebe Daniels comes to Muriel Williams’ mind, and Roseanne Mitchell reminisces about its owner, unafraid to stop mid-show to quiet down an audience.

But all four longtime Poulsbo residents remember one aspect of the Almo Theater the same:

On Friday nights, it was the place to be.

“The Almo was a fun, fun, fun time. It was a place where all of the young kids that grew up here liked going,” said Mitchell, who’s father, W.F. Bob Burns, ran the Idle Hour Cafe next door. “Just about everyone went to the movies.”

Opened by Jorgen Almos in 1924, The Almo was a childhood mecca to be sure.

“Every kid in town went to it,” Williams said. “That’s where the kids hung out on Friday night.”

Though she and her three sisters weren’t allowed to be “Friday nighters,” Williams remembers with glee when her relatives would take her to the movie house on Sundays.

“Oh boy,” she said in a voice nostalgic of a child who just snuck away with a cooling pie, “what a thrill that was, because Sundays you didn’t go to the movies.”

And the musical “Rio Rita” is one she still hasn’t forgotten.

“I was so thrilled because it was a musical,” she said. Even though the sound fell sometimes out of synch with the moving lips of the actors, “that didn’t make any difference to me. I can still hear that song.”

After a handful of owners, remodels and a switchover to retail in the 1980s, the Almo Theater building is now that only in name. It has housed dresses, antiques and knick knacks of all kinds in its post-picture show days, and now one Poulsbo resident has plans to bring back some of its old time glory.

Bill Austin said he hopes to begin his renovations this summer, adding on to the the structure’s second floor mezzanine, revamping the retail space and building a two-story condo for himself at the top, on which he’ll place a roof garden.

“Unless I fall off the roof or something, it should be done by the end of ‘09,” joked the 73-year-old. But even this self-confessed traditionalist knows the movie house has a whale of a tale all its own.

“We sold newspapers, and that was our means of getting enough money to go to the Almo Theater,” said Gausta, 91 … and a half. In the 1920s and 30s, a time before cineplexes and box office results, the going rate for an Almo showing was just 10 cents. But newspapers didn’t cost much back then either.

“Two cents,” Gausta said with a chuckle. “Not enough to retire on, that’s for sure.”

He and his paperboy compatriots sat front and center at the Almo, to be sure the irksome heads of other patrons didn’t obstruct their view of newsreels, serials and finally the main program.

“We got our money’s worth,” he said.

But it was the time when he was struck by a passing Model A Ford while peddling the Times, Star and Post-Intelligencer that proved a pay day for the young, movie-going Gausta.

“We were selling newspapers and I was crossing the street and some elderly woman hit me in the back,” he said. His papers went fluttering through the air, and the offending driver felt so badly she bought each and every one, giving Gausta the rest of the day off.

“And then I went to the movie theater.”

Stenman recalled the shrieks of a girl sitting in the balcony — perhaps in response to some friendly rodent activity — while watching “Bambi.”

Though he said he didn’t go to the Almo as often as others, he sure remembers its nickname.

Also wise to the ways of the balcony, Mitchell, 62, who said it wasn’t unheard of for items to mysteriously drop from above.

“You knew not to sit under the balcony.”

But it was the elusive balcony club she remembers so badly wanting to join, as there was an age requirement for the second tier seating.

“We all could hardly wait to get to that age to be upstairs.”

The Almo was also famous for it’s Friday the 13th showings.

“They always had a really good scary movie,” Mitchell said. “I’d run home afterwards.”

Other than Poulsbo Bowl and Sons of Norway dances, Mitchell said the Almo was one of the only entertainment establishments for kids.

To her, it remains a part of the charming and carefree downtown Poulsbo so intertwined with her childhood.

“It was a little bit freer in those days than it is today,” she said. Kids roller-skated in and out of downtown stores and swam off the docks. “Days gone by, you know?”

It was a time when motorcars, dime store specialties and meat market products were Front Street’s common fare.

“This was a great place to grow up. It was idyllic, truly it was,” she said.

Dale Anderson remembers the Poulsbo of his childhood fondly as well.

Now 81, Anderson had a 25 cent weekly allowance in those days, enough to buy a movie ticket and candy bar. He remembers seeing “Gone with the Wind” at the Almo.

Anderson’s mother, Nora, played piano at the theater before “talkies” hit the big screen.

Williams recalled Nora’s piano playing.

“When the big chase was on, then she’d play real fast music,” she said.

Building on the Almo

Now, Austin is ready to breathe new life into the Almo, along with the Landmark building on Front Street, which he also recently purchased. Austin’s been in the sign and storefront business for 58 years, and since coming to Poulsbo in 1971 has made more than his share of beautifying impacts on the city, including the revamping of the North Kitsap Senior Center and the construction of the Kvelstad Pavilion.

“I do believe it’s genetic,” the Englishman said of his architectural knack. Grandnephew of Hector Hansen — “the best sign painter in the south of England” — Austin’s simply followed the family trade.

But whether it comes from DNA or a well-honed skill set, painting and design are all he thinks about, and that’s just how it is, he said.

“That’s the only thing I can think of. Both of those things I dearly love to do, and I can’t do anything else.”

So when it comes to the Almo, taking on an aged building isn’t a daunting task.

“I like stuff that looks like it’s been there 100 years,” he said. “I like tradition.”

And when it comes to his insatiable yearning to keep the character of Poulsbo alive, he said first take care of family, then one’s own backyard, and then the community around it.

“That’s why I do what I do,” he said. “It’s pretty simple to me.”