If you drive along E. 71st Street just north of Harvard, you might notice something a little different about one of the vacant lots. Over the past year, a small grove of pawpaw trees has been planted there — and if you look carefully, they’re arranged in the shape of a “V.” Not a random choice. That “V” stands for the New Victory Theater, and a few of us old guys who remember this neighborhood’s story made sure it wouldn’t be completely forgotten.
So what was here?
The New Victory Theater at 3990 E. 71st Street was a true neighborhood institution. Its first known advertisement ran on April 28, 1924, when it screened The Mail Man starring Ralph Lewis — though the theater was already open before that, with records suggesting it welcomed its first audiences as early as 1923. It seated 780 people, which gives you a sense of just how central it was to the community. This wasn’t a small neighborhood nickelodeon.
For decades, it was where families spent their Friday nights, where kids sneaked in on Saturday afternoons, and where the community gathered.
And gather they did — sometimes in unexpected ways. In July of 1948, a fire broke out in the basement of an adjoining photographic studio next door, sending smoke through the theater’s ventilation system during the late show. About 75 patrons walked out calmly under the guidance of an usher. The fire marshal, suspicious about a series of similar incidents in the building, launched an investigation. Nobody was hurt, but it was the talk of the neighborhood for weeks.
Then there’s the story from February of 1949 that might be the most purely Cleveland tale of all. A seven-year-old boy from E. 64th Street named John Schurger went missing for over 12 hours, sending his family and police on a frantic search. Three police cruisers scoured the area. Announcements were broadcast at neighborhood theaters asking anyone who had seen him to come forward. As it turned out, young Johnny was sitting right there in the New Victory — watching the movie. Twice. He heard the announcement about his own disappearance. And stayed for the second showing anyway. He was eventually tracked down near E. 68th and Harvard, happily having also taken a few streetcar rides and played near the local factories. A true Cleveland kid.
The New Victory screened its last known advertisement on May 23, 1953, closing out nearly three decades as a neighborhood anchor. The building didn’t disappear overnight though — by 1960 it housed Gray’s Photo Lab, and by 1965, Superior Photo Lab had taken over the space, giving the old movie house a second life developing the photographs of a new generation. As recently as 2009, there was still an active business operating on the first floor. But within a few years it stood boarded up, slowly being reclaimed by vines. It was demolished in 2018, leaving nothing but a vacant lot.
Nothing, that is, except a quiet “V” shaped grove of pawpaw trees — planted by a handful of people who thought this corner deserved at least a small salute to what once stood here.
Next time you’re driving down E. 71st, take a look.