Kiefaber's Magnificent Obsession

by Michele Wojciechowski

 

Tom Kiefaber is a man obsessed.  The object of his obsession is tall, well-respected, and will turn 69 in October.

 

By the way, it's also a movie theater.

 

As the owner of The Senator Theatre, Tom Kiefaber has devoted his time and energy to not only continuing a family legacy, but also to keeping a piece of bygone Baltimore alive and kicking.

 

Sitting in the lobby outside the projection room on a hot spring day, Kiefaber, a 55-year-old resident of Sparks, recounts how The Senator has been a presence throughout his life.  

 

"Obviously I was born into a family that operates motion picture theaters.  So that tells the tale right there. I think I got sort of hooked into it," says Kiefaber. 

 

The Beginning

 

Kiefaber's maternal grandfather, Frank Durkee, Sr. got into the motion picture business in the early 1900's. Durkee was working at a bank just as the movie industry was beginning, and saw people involved in the business coming in to make deposits. Being an entrepreneur, Durkee saw a new technology emerging and decided to become involved.

 

"Interestingly enough," says Kiefaber, "when new technology comes out, oftentimes, you need to take it to the people." And that's exactly what his grandfather did.

 

Durkee got a portable projector and took it to bars, meeting halls, or wherever people would gather.  He would string up a sheet, sometimes where there were rowhouses missing, and people would come out, bring their chairs, and take up a collection to run the films.  At the time, the films were short pieces that people took of circuses, events, or almost anything. Films with a plot came later.

 

In 1909, Durkee opened his first theater, The Paradise, which was located at the corner of Washington and Federal streets. The theater was a converted rowhouse and seated 75. After he had opened other theaters, Durkee brought in two partners, theater owners C. W. Pacy and Charles E. Nolte, and together they formed Durkee Enterprises. Over the years, the company owned and operated great theaters including The State, The Ambassador, The Boulevard, The McHenry, and The Grand. They opened The Senator on Thursday, October 5, 1939.

 

Growing up at The Senator

 

Tom Kiefaber's earliest memories are of The Senator. Because the theater was a family operated business, Kiefaber's mother, Mary Jane Durkee Kiefaber, would leave him in the care of the staff while she went across the street to shop at Hochschild Kohn's (where part of Belvedere Market Square now stands).

 

"I was toddling around here at two or three years younger than we permit children to be in here today," jokes Kiefaber. "People have pointed out to me the logical inconsistency of that."

 

Spending time at the theater was fascinating for Kiefaber. Sometimes, however, the line between illusion and reality became blurred.

 

Although he had seen the projector, the projection booth, and the film, when Kiefaber watched westerns, he refused to believe that they were only movies.  He believed that the horses were really in the theater.

 

"I remember on more than one occasion, I would be trying to get around the back of the theater... I knew that horses were kept in a corral somewhere; I didnt see them anywhere.  I thought they were bringing them in from the back of the theater," says Kiefaber.

 

As Kiefaber grew up, he and his older brother Mark became popular on weekends. They would take their friends to The Senator, but not always in through the front door. Even though his family owned the theater, Kiefaber sometimes insisted on sneaking in. The agreement with his friends was that if they got caught, they got caught. Kiefaber didn't want to be pointed out. Inevitably, at times, they would get caught. Immediately his friends would exclaim, "You can't throw us out. His family runs the place!"

 

When Kiefaber went off to Washington College to study philosophy, he had no desire to work in the family business. Like other children who have grown up in families that own family businesses, Kiefaber grew up hearing the business discussed all the time. Sometimes, family members would bring problems home from work and discuss them. Although Kiefaber wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to do in life, he knew what he didn't want to do, and that was work in the family business.

 

Otto Kiefaber, Tom's father, used to kid him and say, "You're the college person; here, you look in the papers and show me the [job] column for philosophers. I can't even find it." Tom Kiefaber's response was "You're missing the whole point...All these jobs are for people who know how to think."

 

During his senior year in college, Kiefaber moved to New York to be near his girlfriend (now wife) Louise Connor, who was working as a model at the Wilhelmina agency. When he moved back to Baltimore, he worked various jobs and began hanging around The Senator again. He spoke more on an adult level with the theater personnel whom he knew when he was younger. They began telling him colorful stories about his grandfather, and Kiefaber, who was only three years old when his grandfather died, saw the tremendous respect the employees had for Frank Durkee, Sr. He began viewing the family business differently.

 

"I looked around and said, 'This is an incredible legacy here.' It's almost like finding something in your own backyard," explains Kiefaber. "You think it's going to be out there somewhere. And you realize...it's right here...I started to look at things differently."

 

Kiefaber asked if he could be of use at Durkee Enterprises. At the time, the business was undergoing restructuring and going from three families owning it to two. After the process was complete, Kiefaber began working for Durkee Enterprises. The year was 1977, and Star Wars was one of the hottest movies around.

 

The Sale

 

In 1988, Durkee Enterprises decided to get out of the motion picture business in terms of selling a majority of their theaters. Kiefaber panicked. He knew that if The Senator became one more screen in a national chain, mostly likely it would become a twin theater. In the processing of "twinning," one large theater is converted into two smaller ones. This improves the flexibility and ease in booking of a theater, but in the process would destroy the ambiance that one large theater has.

 

"I initially was grandiose enough to think that I had to put together my own deal with investors and people to buy the Durkee circuit because otherwise The Senator, as we know it, was going to go the way of the Dodo. And I couldn't let that happen," recalls Kiefaber.

 

His wife and some close friends asked him what he really wanted from the whole deal. Kiefaber responded, "I want to own The Senator Theatre and operate it and build it up into this wonderful thing." They advised him to focus on that. "That was a turning point for me," says Kiefaber. "I was just about to throw up my hands and walk away." But he didn't.

 

As a result, The Senator was carved out of the deal. As Kiefaber puts it, the deal sent "the family off to sell the sundae without the cherry on top." As a result, Kiefaber had to pay dearly for The Senator and its associated real estate. In order for him to maintain the theater, he would have to not only maintain the level of business that Durkee Enterprises had, but to increase it as well. 

 

Kiefaber and a partner developed the company Limelight, Inc. and bought The Senator in a deal that took place between Christmas and New Year's of 1988. With the help of volunteers, they got the building placed on the National Register of Historic Places, and celebrated its entry onto the register on Thursday, October 5, 1989, the fiftieth anniversary of the Senator. They showed the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz and even had one of the original munchkin cast members, Mienhardt Raabe, who played the munchkin coroner, as the guest of honor. During the first year of operation after the sale, business doubled.

 

Crisis Averted

 

In 2007, Kiefaber's ownership of the theater and its ongoing operation was threatened by a financial shortfall.

 

"We thought at that time that life is not a Frank Capra movie," Kiefaber says referring to "It's a Wonderful Life" when George's family and friends give money so that he and the Building & Loan are saved. "When there's a crisis, and it involves debt, we really felt that people would pull away."

 

Instead, the opposite happened.

 

In just 10 days, over 3,500 people gave $120,000 to save The Senator Theatre. Not just locals gave. In fact, people from throughout the United States and from Switzerland, Sweden, and the United Kingdom donated as well. In many cases, contributors had never been to The Senator, and because of where they live, they probably never will. But many people were motivated to give because they had lost similar types of movie theaters in their cities and towns. They didn't want to see the same fate befall The Senator.

 

The public, though, offered Kiefaber more than just money. They offered suggestions on how to keep The Senator Theatre going. Kiefaber has read through tons of e-mail, spoken with people by phone, and hosted locals who came in for round-table discussion sessions. People have offered suggestions, observations, and criticisms. And Kiefaber and his staff have listened to them all.  They've learned about ways that other independent theatres have increased their revenue and attendance by expanding everything-their capabilities, programming, and concession offerings.

 

Kiefaber recently explained some of his future plans in a letter sent to contributors. He wrote: "We agree that The Senator Theatre is ideally positioned to become a dynamic, multi-faceted entertainment facility by offering a wider array of programming choices. Our goal is for The Senator to become a unique, 1,000 seat North Baltimore special event showcase for the moving image and the arts. In addition to filmed entertainment, options include live jazz, rock, folk, country, and classical music concerts, and presentations of the increasingly popular HD Metropolitan and La Scala Opera broadcasts."

 

Basically, the vision is for The Senator to become the premier entertainment venue in the Baltimore Metro area.

 

Another change at The Senator will be an educational component. During talks with the community, Kiefaber was reminded of times when tons of school children came to The Senator to see "Gandhi" as part of what they were learning in school. And a light bulb went off. Showing films to students complement what they are learning.

 

Kiefaber refers to it as an enhanced learning technique. Children will learn even more after they study their curriculum, then come to The Senator and see a film about what they've learned. As Kiefaber says, "You take this sort of magical journey together that reinforces something you're studying."

 

A few summers ago, Kiefaber did this with some Baltimore City students who were studying Greek mythology. He worked with their teachers and brought them in to see the movie "Hercules."

 

But with enhanced learning, the kids aren't just taking a field trip to the movies. They are seeing something that goes along with their regular curriculum. They go to see it in a historic building that they learn about. Kiefaber says that they teach them a bit of science because they bring out a strip of film and explain how they run 24 frames a second and how movies seem to actually be moving on the big screen.

 

The result? Kiefaber received a box of letters and banners from the kids thanking him, telling how much fun they had, how they liked laughing and learning, and that they passed their tests on mythology.

 

The Future of The Senator

 

While talking about The Senator, Kiefaber stresses one point: "It's the people's theatre." As a result, he wants to add events that will serve the community, while keeping it primarily a theatre showing movies.

 

He's also talking about making it a non-profit of sorts. He compares it to how a non-profit like the Hippodrome is run. Then, he could run the educational programs and even have fundraisers to improve parts of the theater.

 

Kiefaber wants to upgrade The Senator with the latest innovations like high resolution digital video.  If they were to stage other types of events, he says they will need to modify their stage area to be able to accommodate them. Although The Senator was built to look like a live performance theater, it's not. In addition, the type of power The Senator has is not completely modern. "All of these things need to be upgraded to take The Senator to the next level," says Kiefaber.

 

When asked what drives him or inspires him to keep the Senator going, Kiefaber says, "Look around you...I am absolutely over-the-top, gone, down-the-river, obsessed, hooked. A friend of mine said, 'Tom is 35 mm positive.' It's like a virus. It gets in your blood, and you can't get it out."

 

For people that work in this industry, my management staff couldn't be more different and varied...except for one common denominator--they're all heavily into this, and they're all fanatics.  They're different ages, genders, everything, and ordinarily we would never even know each other... But we're close because we're working on a common goal. So it's not just a certain type of person who grew up here."

 

One of the magical elements of the Senator Theatre is its power to endure.

 

In 1991, USA Today voted the Senator one of the four best theaters in the United States based on a reader's poll. Especially cited was Kiefaber's tradition of getting up to greet the audience before a show and reminding them not to talk once the picture starts. But there's much more.

 

"There's something about this building, its futuristic style, the way it was designed, the era it represents, the history it has, of all the people who have trooped through here over the years, combined with the perfect sight lines, best lenses, bright light on the screen, the latest in technology," states Kiefaber.

 

"And when it's all working...and the place is packed with people, and the movie's good--there is something like a living entity here...What would ordinarily be considered by most to be an inanimate thing, to me has a life." And other people agree.

 

Kiefaber once received a call from a man who went on at great lengths to encourage him to keep the Senator going. When Kiefaber found out that the man had not been to the theater in a while, he invited him to come and visit. The man stated that he now lived near Chicago and discovered that in terms of movie theaters, all he had around him were "the Cinema-one-too-many." He said that he thought that every place had a theater like the Senator and was shocked to discover that he was wrong. When times get tough, stories like this keep Kiefaber going.

 

"Every time it's gotten tough...I think to what I'm trying to accomplish, what we're all trying to accomplish here. I think that the people have the faith and have been supporting us," says Kiefaber.

 

"I've had people come in here and say, 'Listen, this is it for me. There's nothing left of the life I knew and loved.' It gets heavy. People say, 'My wife passed away... My kids don't come...The world's going crazy. I come in this place, and for a couple of hours, the brave new world no longer exists out there. I just feel like, 'Okay, the Senator's still here.' There's still something right with the world.'"

 

"This really is not my theater," says Kiefaber with a smile. "It belongs to everybody. It belongs to all the people who have ever bought a ticket here."

 

The Senator Theatre is located at 5904 York Road.  For more information,

call the theatre at 410-435-8338 or the office at 410-435-9892.

 

Michele Wojciechowski is the editor of the Valley Times.