There aren’t many things more American than baseball and apple pie. Except perhaps, for drive-in movie theaters. The mere mention of these bits of Americana conjures up images of 1950s sock hops and poodle skirts, doo-wop and more. (Even for those of us whose knowledge of that golden era in our nation’s history has been gleaned solely from watching “Happy Days.” Or “Grease.”)

Drive-ins had their hey day in the 50s, a couple of decades before I was a gleam in my parents’ eyes. But there were still a few in operation locally when I was a kid, and I have many fond memories of going to one in particular. I’m referring of course to the one which used to be located off of East River Road in Norwich, where Benedict Motors is today.

My mother tells me that particular drive-in played triple features, but I don’t remember that. In fact, it’s highly unlikely that I ever even made it through the first movie shown on any given night, probably due to the 7 p.m. bedtime my parents so strictly enforced every other night of the year. I could never seem to resist the siren’s call of the blankets piled in the back seat.