Field of scenes

PIEDMONT, Mo.

Sitting on lawn chairs in the bed of their black, Dodge pickup, David and Stephanie Oliver and their 3-year-old daughter, Faith, are equipped with blankets, bug spray and a cooler full of Cokes.

For them, this is the only way to watch a movie.

At least twice a month, the Olivers drive the 40-mile stretch from their hometown of Puxico to Piedmont's Pine Hill Drive-In to watch a movie in the darkening twilight of Missouri's Ozarks.

"It's a lot better," David Oliver said. "You get to be outside. You can bring in food, have supper. It's cheaper. And out here, you're not stuck in some theater with some screaming kid."

For years, those in the theater industry have said it's time to roll the credits on drive-ins, asserting that they are little more than nostalgic relics that have been put on permanent intermission by climate-controlled multiplexes, big-screen IMAX theaters and high-tech home entertainment systems.

But drive-in fans like the Olivers -- as well as the 700 or so other people who made their way along the winding backwoods of Highway 34 to Pine Hill on a recent weekend night -- suggest otherwise.

For them, and the thousands of others who prefer to park in front of screens in the country's 433 drive-in theaters every weekend, there is still at least a flicker of light left in an admittedly fading industry.

Drive-ins decline

It's been more than 70 years since the first drive-in theater opened in Camden, N.J. People were quickly drawn to the fact that they could smoke, talk and kiss their sweetie in the privacy of their own cars.

At their height of national popularity in 1958, there were 4,063 drive-ins in the United States.

During that time, local residents watched "Jubilee Trail" from their back seat at the Star Vue in Cape Girardeau. Or they could see "Combat Squad" at Cape Drive-In. In Jackson, you could see movies like "Dance Hall Girls" or "Red Snow" at the Park View. Pine Hill had already opened in Piedmont as well.

But slowly, the fascination waned and people again opted for indoor theaters, with their surround-sound and air-conditioning. The drive-ins eventually joined the hula hoops and pet rocks as a passed fad and today represent less than 2 percent of all U.S. movie screens.

The Star Vue, which opened on North Kingshighway in 1954 and was big enough for 600 cars, was the last drive-in in the Cape Girardeau-Jackson area. It had closed by 1984.

But there are encouraging signs. Since the 1990s, there have been 17 new drive-in theaters built in the nation and 40 that have been reopened, according to the United Drive-In Theatre Owners Association.

Three have reopened in Missouri in that time, including the Five & Drive in Moberly, the 21 Drive-In in Ellington and 66 Drive-In in Carthage. There are a total of 13 drive-ins in Missouri.

But most agree that they never will be as popular as they once were. Randy Loy, executive director of the drive-in association, recently said as much in an article in "Money" magazine.

"We hope the trend continues with reopens and new builds," Loy said. "But we realize realistically we can't hold onto all drive-ins we have now. Some developer will come in and offer a lot of money for some of these sites."

Meet the Burlbaughs

It's a Saturday, the cars are lining up at Piedmont's Pine Hill Drive-in and Robert Burlbaugh has a fist full of cash.

The Jackson resident has owned the Pine Hill for three years, along with his wife, Cheryl, and his brother, Randy, who lives in Piedmont.

Before the movie, Burlbaugh is collecting money for each person in the cars, except children under 12, who get in free.

While area indoor theaters charge about $6.50 for a movie ticket, for $3.50 at Pine Hill, people get a trash bag (so your car doesn't get cluttered with popcorn bags), a green flier promoting the next week's flick -- "The Hulk" -- and a two-hour movie that divulges what hilarity would ensue if Jim Carrey had the power of God.

"The blood hound can come in free," Burlbaugh jokes to two men who have a droopy-faced dog in the back of their pickup.

Robert Burlbaugh tells those coming in that they can listen to the movie on 88.5 FM. In the old days, drive-ins had small speakers that attached to the window.

Now, it's easier, and sounds better, to transmit the sound through a radio signal that is broadcast for about a quarter-mile from the drive-in.

Robert and Cheryl drive the 80 miles from Jackson to Piedmont, and several family members work at the drive-in each Thursday, Friday and Saturday night.

Before the movie, Cheryl splices the four or five reels that the distributor sends into one giant reel. Then, the reel is clicked to the 50-year-old projector and its 4,000-watt bulb.

A mix of their relatives, from nieces to in-laws, pop the corn and fill cups full of soda in the concession building that sits in the center of the lot and houses the projection room.

Like at any movie theater, the Burlbaughs get most of their profits through concessions and send between 35 percent to 60 percent of income from ticket sales to the film's distributor.

But the Burlbaughs didn't consider it a huge, financial chance.

"We didn't think buying Pine Hill was risky because Piedmont is a tourist town," Randy said between serving customers. "Otherwise, we might have thought it was risky."

True enough. Several of those who went to see "Bruce Almighty" two Saturdays ago were visitors to the area's several campgrounds or vacationers at Sam A. Baker State Park and Clearwater Lake.

"But they come from all over," Randy said. "We have people come from Cape and Jackson and even St. Louis."

"It's a nostalgia thing," Cheryl said. "We get people in here saying that their kids have never seen a drive-in movie, and they're excited by that."

The Burlbaughs estimate that they have anywhere between 500 to 600 people show up each weekend. The Saturday two weekends ago was extremely busy.

Come early, stay late

As early as an hour before the 9 p.m. movie starts, the cars, trucks and campers pull into Pine Hill's 4.5 acre lot, fenced in by the tall pines that account for the drive-in's name.

A couple on a date picks the back row. Families get up close.

After applying a healthy dose of bug spray -- mosquitos are especially thick this time of year -- a half-dozen or so children hop out and scatter toward the grassy section in front of a 72-foot-tall, 38-foot-wide building that also serves as a screen.

"We try to make this a family-oriented place," Robert Burlbaugh says after making his way from the gate to the reel room. "We don't like a lot of curse words. Some slip through, but we try to make this a place where you can take your kids."

They usually try to pick PG-rated movies, like the upcoming "Finding Nemo" and "Pirates of the Caribbean." Both Randy and Robert Burlbaugh serve in the Missouri Army National Guard, so they did let the R-rated "We Were Soldiers" slip by last year. Such exceptions are rare.

Talk to those who go to Pine Hill, and you'll find a variety of reasons for coming. Some do just happen to be nearby. Others can't resist the good old days that drive-ins represent.

"We haven't been to a drive-in in 30 years," said Gary Diebold of Jackson, his elbow resting in the window and his wife, Diana, next to him. "We're camping at Clearwater Lake. We've driven past it a few times over the years and decided to stop in."

Diebold remembers going to the Star Vue in Cape Girardeau years ago.

"This looks just like the old Star Vue," he said, scanning the area. "Before they start the movie, they even play songs from the '50s. It takes you back."

Others who were waiting for the movie to start shared memories of Star Vue.

"I was on a date one time at the Star Vue with a guy who thought he couldn't be scared," recalled Laura Hulcy of Cape Girardeau. "But we were watching 'Carrie,' and in the end when her hand comes out of the ground, he jumped. It was great."

It was memories of Star Vue that brought Hulcy to Pine Hill.

"I just wanted to see if was anything like when I was a kid at Star Vue," she said.

Finally, at about 9, it's dark enough, and the projector begins to whir. People scamper back to their cars with sacks of popcorn and gallons of soda. Ignoring a sign that forbids alcohol, one old-timer pops the tab on a Stag he's brought in and settles into a lawn chair.

"That's one big TV screen," points out his 5-year-old grandson, Connor Moldenhauer of Perryville.

"Oh, it's starting!" Connor's 12-year-old sister, Hanna, says, running back from the concession stand. "This is so cool. I wish we had one of these at home."

smoyers@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 137