I have to confess that I never thought about the Trio Theater as “an historical gem,” as it was described in a letter to the editor of my hometown newspaper on Jan. 23, 1980.
To me and my sister and brother, it was simply the place where we’d catch a Sunday matinee of the latest Don Knotts comedy, or maybe a Doris Day-Rock Hudson romance fable.
But after seeing that letter from an arts professor who had visited my hometown of Robersonville, I was motivated. As only an idealistic college crusader of the 1970s could be motivated.
Yes, we need to save that building, I wrote in a letter of my own in the next edition. “It would be a tremendous tragedy if we fail to act soon to save this historic 1920s structure,” I proffered. “… In a day when age often connotes infirmity and lifelessness, the Trio again represents an exciting promise of invigorated community spirit.”
Hey, a little hyperbole can do wonders for the soul.
The Trio was built about 1924 and for decades was the only movie house for miles. By the 1970s, its marquee lights had faded and few ventured to walk down its darkened aisles.
But it truly had once been more than a movie theater. I remember my high school history teacher — yes, that high school history teacher — telling her students that in its heyday, the theater hosted touring vaudeville shows and wrestling matches. It was unusual, she said, for a town as small as Robersonville to have such an entertainment hub of its own.
The arts professor who wrote the letter described the building as being equipped for live shows, with a “fly gallery” to move sets above the stage; dressing rooms under the stage; and a small orchestra pit where a pianist once played during silent movies.
The theater was adjacent to Dr. Kilpatrick’s dental office and across Main Street from Green-Britton Motors. (Yes, car dealerships used to be on Main Street.) And Pope’s Five-and-Dime, which, in those pre-SuperCenter days, seemed to be an immense space full of staplers and ice-cube trays and socks.
The bank next door eventually took control of the property. I had worked there filing checks (remember checks?) for a couple of summers while in college, so I knew the guys in charge. I asked them to take me on a tour of the Trio.
Yes, it was dark and spooky; yes, it was smelly and cold; and yes, that orchestra pit was full of water. But the idealist in me asked the numbers-crunching bankers, “Why not take a chance and see what can be?”
A preservation committee made an appeal to the bank’s corporate board, noting interest in the Trio from the State Historical Society and the National Register of Historic Places. And Tom Wopat — yes, that duke of Hazzard — had supposedly expressed interest in headlining a fundraiser.
A few days after that appeal, the curtain was drawn on the Trio; a demolition crew left an empty lot that remains empty today. Pope’s Five and Dime is long gone, too, and the Ford dealership moved from Main Street.
It’s difficult to compare the story of downtown Fayetteville with that of a tiny burg like my hometown, whose population peaked at maybe 2,000 decades ago. We didn’t have the resources or, sadly, the vision to preserve our history and a future.
The pioneers of downtown Fayetteville, however, did have that vision, and they helped marshal those resources. CityView’s 2023 Downtown Visionaries awards recognize three of those champions who seized the challenge to energize the preservation and revitalization of a city center that is today a shining example of what can be.
Molly Arnold, Bruce Daws and Mac Healy are those champions of downtown Fayetteville. We thank them for the work they’ve done for their community, for its history and for its strength. Their stories begin on Page 16.
Also in this issue:
Theater arts teacher Brian Adam Kline was devastated after the death of his friend and collaborator, Mary Ward. He wasn’t sure how to finish their book without her. Then her husband asked Kline a favor: “Please finish this book.” Page 10
