Lynn's Comments: The Odeon Theatre was a two-mile walk from my house on 5th Street in North Vancouver. The Saturday afternoon matinee was always packed with kids, looking forward to a double bill, separated by a cartoon, a newsreel, and a commercial. This was the arena into which we crushed ourselves: rich, poor, native, and new immigrants, to tease, shove, joke, and annoy each other until the screen lit up with whatever Hollywood had to offer. My routine was to go early and be first in line, so I could get the pick of the seats. Somewhere in the 6th row, near the middle was best and if the crowd exceeded the seating then wooden orange crates were set out in front of the screen for the slackers. I once watched Tarzan from the orange crates. All I could see was Johnny Weismuller's enormous feet and tiny head, all out of focus. We talked through the dialogue, cheered with the action, groaned when the kissing started, and laughed at the cartoons 'til we wet our seats. This was kid heaven. Here at the theatre, we were all equals. The movies brought us together at a time when so many things tore us apart. The Odeon theatre is gone, now. This Sunday cartoon brought it back to me!