When I was in second grade, my cousin, Lanny Larson, took me to a horror double feature at Dipson's Theater in Bradford, PA. The two movies we saw were THE BRAIN FROM PLANET VARGA and THE HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL. I got through the first flick okay by ducking behind the seat in front of me. That didn't work, though, during the Vincent Price film. Just as a skeleton popped from an acid pit in the creepy house basement, the theater manager shut off the projector and sent a REAL skeleton out into the audience on a guy wire. I leaped up, showering my cousin with popcorn, and shot up the aisle like my sneakers were on fire. I probably squealed like a girl, too, but I'll never admit it. Even scarier was the time a bunch of us piled in my blue Maverick and went to the Portville, NY drive-in to see THE EXORCIST. Every time Linda Blair spazzed out, my buddy, Bruce "Brutely" Simes, reached from the backseat, planted his talons in my neck, and screeched, "AAAARRRR!" Although Brutely went home with bruises all over his arms from the pummeling I gave him, I still couldn't sleep without the lights on for a month after that! Now, you can see why I hate scary movies!!
WPR