WITH the closing of the East Street ABC Cinema in Brighton a whole chunk of my life will vanish as the bricks and mortar hit the ground and the site takes on a completely new image.

My late husband was the general manager there for 13 years, all through the Seventies and into the early Eighties, and we lived over the shop.

We had the most lovely flat right at the top of the building looking out over the seafront and were the envy of our friends.

The major film companies hosted big Press shows for smash hits like The Godfather and the queues often went right round the cinema from the East Street entrance, along the seafront, round into Pool Valley and then met themselves at the start of the queue again.

The staff became very good at judging just when to tell the hopeful punters that they would not get in for that particular showing.

My friends, visiting us for the weekend, thought it was great fun to be able to go to the cinema in their slippers,

as we simply popped down the stairs from the flat and sat in the circle in

comfort.

There were some grave disadvantages, however, one of which was that I had no front door to the street.

In theory we could come in directly from the seafront through the main doors and straight up the stairs to our hideaway.

Unfortunately, the doors continually succumbed to the wind and the weather so that our special keys would not work, with the result that I had to walk through the cinema from East Street carrying all the shopping and anything else that was destined for the flat.

That was when you realised that 97 stairs was a long way to climb!

I have never forgotten the look of horror which passed over the faces of the furniture removal men when we moved in and they realised that every single thing had to be manhandled up those stairs.

Needless to say, we used a different firm when we moved out!

There were other excitements, like coming home late after the cinema had closed.

We had to go through a tiny door at the back of the cinema and walk through the darkened theatre via some spooky back ways.

If you forgot your torch it was a pretty hair-raising journey and you made sure you had it the next time, I can tell you!

But we had the whole of Brighton at our feet.

We saw bits of the Palace Pier

fall into the sea, the carnival

go by, the Red Arrows when it

hit a mast head - and we could sunbathe undisturbed on the roof if we wished.

We lived through the transformation of one huge cinema into four small ones, and I can tell you it is a good recipe for a nervous breakdown to

have RSJs coming through your front door!

We survived and look back on those years with nostalgia.

When the theatre finally comes

down it will be the end of an era,

certainly for me, and, I suspect, for many other Brighton residents and film buffs.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.