(Photos by Mechelle Robinson)
There were drive-ins all over.
It was one of the gifts of summer and a prize for surviving the school year.
The drive-in was a symbol of a rite of passage from one generation to another, and during the 1970s and ‘80s, the local drive-ins showed box office hits like “Jaws” and “Grease” and “Star Wars”.
During the years following the invention of the multi-screen cinemaplexes, however, the local drive-ins were forced to depend on “last year’s” films and some showed skin flicks, and most staged those Sunday after-church flea markets to keep the front gates swinging open.

Some owners insisted on retaining those classic squawk-box window speakers, while others evolved to radio frequencies, and they all showed the ole “hot dog flipping into its bun” cartoon during the intermissions. Oh, and those concession stands; they always offered the grub of gods like the saltiest popcorn, the best chili dogs, nachos and cheese, and inside or outside, there was always a need for those Sno Caps and Milk Duds during a flick on the big screen.
Elm Grove. Wheeling Island. The Blue Moon in Wellsburg. The Airport Drive-In out in Ohio County. And let’s not forget the Glen Dale Drive-In down in Marshall County, the last big, outdoor operational screen in the Wheeling area when it closed to become a pipeline lay-down yard nearly 20 years ago.
The sign and ticket booth are gone now, but the screen still stands along W.Va. Route 2 down in that shallow hollow between development and nature, and the deep scars from the parking rows and the concession stand have stayed prevalent on Mechelle Robinson’s telling drone photos. It’s the driveway into the outdoor theatre, though, that “trunk travelers” may remember most.

That’s because some of us, whether we were on a double date or simply attending with a mischievous gang of teenage wannabe hooligans, were locked away in the back of the vehicle, securing the precious cargo hidden away from adult eyes.
What was so valued 40-some years ago? Most likely, a smuggled 12-pack of Natty Light (if we were lucky it wasn’t even-cheaper Meister Brau) and a bag of Doritos, that’s what.
But one time, the “sneak in” almost turned into a “scream out”.
Before the owners began allowing an “all you can fit” per-vehicle price, the process was easy – pull into the lot at Young’s Cafeteria and drive to the back of the eatery to pack the trunk with those who dared to trust. The driveway into the Glen Dale Drive-In was always very bumpy for those in the back, but once the vehicle was parked and the lights were turned off, the driver would then free the back-side passenger.

Except this one time, that is.
There was a boyfriend-girlfriend locked away this time in the truck of an Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, and their legs had to curl around the spare tire while forced to inhale the smell of rubber and exhaust. Somehow, between the entrance and the parking spot, our driver and his girlfriend erupted in an argument, and yes, the young lady spotted a friend on the way in and shuffled off quickly in that direction once the vehicle was placed in “Park”.
Then, the driver – and the keyholder – decided to pursue her before granting our friends their freedom, and they vanished into a sea of dark, parked cars leaving the four of us without many options.
No matter how much teenage strength we thought we possessed, we couldn’t force the trunk open, and pushing out the back seat of the Cutlass didn’t work either. We thought of using the crowbar, but – DUH!! – the steel stick was in the trunk with the spare tire and our trapped and anxious friends, and revealing our sneak-in scheme was never an option.
At some point, my date decided to sit against the back bumper to calm the unintentional hostages who were getting a little “kicky” inside their cage.

See, there were no cellphones, no texting, and no GPS tracking back then, and our old-fashioned, four-person search-and-rescue team didn’t produce results inside the concession building or close to the screen, and they didn’t walk to the back of the acreage either. With the preview beginning before the film, we were only confident the driver – and hopefully his date too – had to return at some point to retrieve his parents’ Oldsmobile, and thankfully, that did happen soon after the first movie began.
The drive-in theatre was always a seasonal business in this region, and tech advances have the industry into a digital – and expensive – reality. The Hilltop Drive-In up in Chester, though, has upgraded and celebrated its 75th anniversary last summer, but Jefferson County’s four-screen, 1,000-vehicle Winter Drive-in was shuttered in mid-2021 following 50 years of entertainment.
While many members of the Facebook page “Drive In Movie Theatre Fan Club” wish the industry would return throughout the country, many posters commenting on photos of the former Glen Dale Drive-In do not believe a resurrection will ever take place at the Marshall County location.
Unless someone hits the lottery, of course (and you can’t win if you don’t play, right?).


