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WHEN temperatures turned wintry during a recent spring-break stay in the Northern Neck, we sought alternatives to basking on the beach or dipping our toes in the Potomac River.
One included a visit to the Essex 5, a movie-theater complex in the town of Tappahannock.
The movie complex is a nice, bright spot, with roomy theaters and good-sized screens, where we enjoyed the first-run flick "Spy Kids."
Waiting in line for popcorn, I scanned the spacious, magenta-colored lobby and smiled.
My, how far we've come from the DAW.
For those who never experienced it, an evening at the DAW theater in downtown Tappahannock was different.
The little movie house, named DAW after the initials of its first owners, had seen better days when I began frequenting it as a youngster in the 1960s and '70s.
At least, that's what I decided after the first bat swooped down over me on my initial visit.
I'd heard the old movie theater was home to a small population of the radar-guided critters, but it still came as a shock when wings flapped overhead in the middle of "Shaft's Big Score."
Somewhat startled by this air assault, I looked to other patrons to see how unusual it was.
The woman beside me just shook her head and said it was par for the course.
But, with no other theater on the Northern Neck and the next-closest one 70 miles away in Richmond, where else was I going to munch popcorn and see "The Poseidon Adventure"?
Though to my teen-age eyes the theater and its lobby were perfectly acceptable, visits elsewhere later showed me that few other movie houses were as dark, dank and cramped as the DAW.
The DAW's screen, however, was still in fine shape, and the projector was as well. To be honest, I've had more complaints about some of our modern-day theaters than I ever had about the DAW.
Bats weren't the only thing I noticed as different on my first visit to the DAW. All the black patrons sat in the balcony, while whites stayed in the main body of seats below.
In those days, separate facilities for whites and blacks were the rule, rather than the exception, for much of Virginia.
Indeed, doctors who served Northern Neck patients usually had one waiting room for whites, another for blacks, and little was ever said about it.
I asked a black friend about sitting up in the DAW balcony. He tried to sound like it wasn't
a big deal to him, adding that it was fun up there, and dark enough to sneak a smooch with his date.
But when he finished talking, there was a hint of pain in his voice that made us both feel awkward.
As the years passed, the main seats of the DAW became integrated, as were schools, doctor's offices and other public places.
One pleasant DAW memory came to me on my recent Essex 5 visit as I stepped up to pay for enough popcorn and drinks for my kids and their friends.
Back when I was a teen, six bucks would get me and a date into the movie, then get a small drink for her and a sweet-and-sour lollipop big enough to last me through a full-length feature.
Of course, way back then, $6 would also fill up the Corvair that got us there.
I'd better stop. I'm approaching the point where my kids say they've heard more than enough about life "back in the day."