Truth. [volume] (Salt Lake City, Utah) 1901-1908, 1906-08-11
THEATRES ON THE COAST.

pieces Frisco to watch-me-grow Los
Angeles. While primarily seeking the
elusive thing called rest, I incidental
ly lowered around the flaring foot
lights of several coast towns. After
one makes his escape from the ennui
of Sacramento-thea as dead as
slavery-one comes into the breezy
ozone of Oakland. This one time
town of rural homes and truck gar
dens has suddenly logged itself in
metropolitan ruffles. Broadway, in
Oakland, has caught some of the de-
parted glory of Market street.
O'Farrell street, too, where the in
candescents once bloomed in orange
colored splendor throughout the night,
has a small counterpart in the heart
of Oakland. There are high priced
theatres and the ten-cent dissipation
touching elbows in impudent rivalry.
But the summer glory of Oakland is
Idora park-a dreamland of lawn,
flowers and footlights. No matter
how warm the day-and Oakland is
hot, at times-one can go to Idora
park in the evening and the cool
breeze of the Pacific will kiss him
back to life and joy At the same time
you can fill your ears with operate
music, and slip away from dullness
over a footlight flood of surf-color
through which chorus girls are swim
ming in a sea of rainbows. No mat
ter how proudly Oakland may raise
her head-her theatric head-in all
the days and nights to come Idora
park will be pleasant memory. One
comes over to Frisco from Oakland
across what is now-as it ever was
the grandest stretch of water nature
ever gave to commerce. Cities may
crash and crumble around the shores
of San Francisco bay, but forever and
forever may it's waters carry the ships
of two words through the Golden
Gate. One steps from the ferry boat
of Market street and Immediately
feels that he is in cloud of rncer'
tain;y and gloom.
A ride up Market street is like a trip
through a graveyard-here lie buried
the glories and grandeur of the San
Francisco that was. The Call build
ing, the Grand and Palace hotels, the
Phelan building stand out amidst the
black surroundings like broken monu-
ments struggling to be brave. Over on
Mission street the Grand opera house
is a wilderness of twisted iron and
crumbled brick. Just few hours be-
fore the earthquake, the golden voice
of Caruso excited to frenzy the most
brilliant audience ever assembled at
this historic play house.
Over on O'Farrell street the Or
pheum, Fishers, Tivoli and Oberon
are lost in debris as dead to the past
as death itself. The Alcazar and the
Columbia-the pride of Powell street
where tragic actors and tragic &C
tresses played the make believe trag.
edy of life-are now as deep trag-
edy as death can weave from the
threads of dust and silence. The Rial
to is dead, long live the Rialto! Way
up town-for up town that was-the
Rialto lives again in all the quicken
ing pulse of dazzling footlights and in
candescent fairy entrances. The
Davis threatre on McAllister street
! not far from Fillmore, is doing its besl
to win back the vocal glory that made
the old Tivoli nest of song birds
But it is only sicken ng imitation
It's singers seem to have the earth
quake still in their voices and Its
chorus girls are not the shapely girls
that made the Tivoli chorus an empo
ium of well rounded hosiery. And
by the way, speaking of the old Tiv