Moving Picture Health Car
Every County Had One
In 1916, movies rattled into rural North Carolina communities in the back of a
souped-up Studebaker “auto-truck” called the Moving Picture Health Car.
Warren Booker, working for the Health Department, and W. C.
Crosby, working for the Education Department, had created an all-in-one vehicle
that could deliver lights and movies to any location, and the Moving Picture
Health Car was born. Their goal was to bring health education and entertainment
to poor, isolated farm families in North
Carolina .
The truck was outfitted with a movie projector and a canvas
screen. A gasoline engine coupled with a generator provided sufficient power
for lights and the “moving picture machine.”
A Victrola offered a musical interlude to begin the entertainment and
supplied suitable dramatic accompaniment to the silent films. Black-out
curtains darkened the hall. A switchboard allowed the show to be run from a
central location, and there was a fire extinguisher. Camping and cooking
equipment were included for roughing it.
Taken from The Health Bulletin, Vol. XXXI, No. 2; May 1916 |
The car had a two-man staff. H. E. Hamilton, a
“mechanician,” took care of maintenance and kept the Health Department up to
date. Roy Tatum, knowledgeable about medicine,
instructed the audiences in good health practices.
In the November 27, 1916 News
and Observer, Booker reported that it took twenty to thirty minutes to set up for a
program. This included hanging the screen
and running the cable through a door or window to the motion picture machine in
the hall.
It was a big deal when the car rumbled into small
out-of-the-way crossroads communities bringing “real” motion pictures and offering
“intensely interesting” health information. The promise of dazzling lights and
moving pictures flickering across a canvas screen inevitably drew a crowd. It
was magical for isolated people, some of whom would have no electricity until
after World War II.
Each show featured five or six reels of film—about sixteen
to twenty minutes each. An opener might be an uproarious slapstick comedy, a
film depicting a scenic landscape in a faraway land, or perhaps a western with
fast riding cowboys and lots of action. This was followed by several movies
offerings health information. The conclusion was usually a comedy—maybe Charlie
Chaplin in The Tramp or Roscoe
"Fatty" Arbuckle and Buster Keaton in The Butcher Boy.
The purpose of the Health Car was to teach disease
prevention, sanitation and hygiene. Programs highlighted topics like
tuberculosis, typhoid fever, venereal disease, oral hygiene, and cleanliness.
One film focused on a campaign against flies and included directions for making
a fly trap that were distributed to the audience.
The lessons were embedded in dramatic action stories. One
popular show was The Man Who Learned. The herky-jerky, black and white, silent film
projected onto canvas with scratchy Victrola music as the background taught a
lesson about typhoid prevention through sanitary milk production. The story was
gripping and the Victrola played music appropriate to the scene—intense,
foreboding, or jubilant as needed.
The audience is enthralled by the action. Hearts are
thumping. Eyes are wide. At the end, the important lesson has been learned.
The shows were a rousing success. Care-worn farm women in
faded dresses, men in shabby bib overalls, and children bouncing with excitement
and anticipation arrived at places like Pikeville (Wayne County), Mount Mourne (Iredell County) ,
or Lemon Springs (Lee County) on movie night. They came in wagons hauled by mules or
worn-out horses. One man declared it was better than a Methodist camp meeting.
The car circulated around the state visiting each of the 45
counties that existed at that time. It remained in one area for three weeks,
visiting up to twelve locations each week. The vehicle carried enough films to
present a fresh line-up for each return visit.
The price of the truck was $750; its extra engine and
generator went for $360. It cost $90 a week to operate the car, which was paid for
by the communities hosting the exhibit—usually by the local government or
generous donors.
People turned out in huge
numbers. One report placed daily attendance from 450 to 900. There were times
when the evening productions were moved outside because no venue of adequate
size was available.
In 1917, the state legislature appropriated $25,000 to
provide a Moving Picture Health Car for each county. The cars would turn rural
schools into community centers, provide health information, and bring
communities together in ways they had never been before.
The cost of an outfitted car was $3,000 with $2,000 paid by
the county. By late 1920, every county had a movie car.
African Americans had little access to modern innovations
like movie cars. However, in 1919, black teachers joined the North Carolina
Tuberculosis Association in the sale of Tuberculosis Christmas Seals to finance
a movie car. Every county had a quota, and, in almost every county, the quota
was met. Over $5,000 was raised; this was used to purchase a Dodge panel truck,
a Delco lighting system, and an Atlas projector. A new movie truck hit the
road.
Dr. E. T. Ransom operated the car on a circuit of one week
visits around the state. Each week, he presented six to ten programs. In
addition, local doctors were sometimes brought in to treat people who came to
the show. In some instances, Dr. Ransom also made home visits.
During the first six months, Dr. Ransom visited twenty-five
counties and recorded an attendance of 34,148. The car met with such enthusiasm
that a second car was added the next year.
A hundred years ago, it took a vehicle loaded with
equipment, driven miles over terrible roads, with electricity furnished via
generator, for a farm family to see a movie. Today, we can watch whatever we
want, in real time, on devices we hold in the palms of our hands. We’ve come a
long way since days of the Motion Picture Health Car!
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