Our recent feature on cinemas past in Bradford has prompted a flood of memories from readers who fondly remember the old “flea pits” of their youth.

Derek Mozley writes: “The item re Bradford cinemas from David Rhodes on the Pavilion De Luxe in Shipley reminds me of stories told by people who patronised it.

“First, it was so small that you had to take care not to hurry to find your seat as you might plunge headlong through the screen.

“Second, whenever there was a western showing, the kids in the front row would pepper the screen with pea-shooters or some such weaponry.”

He adds: “On the subject of Bradford cinemas of old, I recall a certain gentleman, Mr G B (“Charlie”) Mozley (no relation!). He was manager of the Hippodrome in Barkerend Road and his nickname arose from his resemblance to Charlie Chaplin. However, he was better known for his efforts in raising money for charitable causes.

“In this connection I, and I am sure others, will remember him and his helpers on the touchline at Bradford Park Avenue and Bradford City on match days, carrying a spread-out blanket in which to catch coins thrown by the crowd. Those were the days!

“Today, to throw a coin on to the field of play would be a criminal offence!”

Ralph Stott called with more memories of the Pavilion De Luxe. He says: “We used to call it the Bug Hole. It was the main attraction for a lot of kids in that area. I took my first girlfriend there – and she’s now my wife, Shirley.

“We used to enjoy the cliffhanger serials.”

We got a letter from Norman Barwick, of Wilsden, who says: “I enjoyed the Remember When? page recalling the old cinemas in Bradford. It brought back many memories.

“I recall the closure of the New Tatler, Thornton Road, following a massive fire which was reported in the T&A at the time, when the film being shown was A Night Of Adventure, if I am not mistaken. Perhaps other readers may remember this.”

And, by e-mail, we received a lengthy missive from Frank Healy, now of distant Huddersfield: “A cry of SHAZAM! A crash of thunder and a cloud of smoke heralded Captain Marvel when, as a young lad, I sat in the Queens Hall Cinema at Laisterdyke back in the early Fifties.

“The serial was something we dare not miss. How would our hero escape from whatever dilemma he was left in at the end of last week’s episode?

“Superman and Batman also featured on our must-see list. When Batman made his first appearance we all wanted to copy him. The main advantage of his character was he did not fly, so we could copy all he did, right down to the outfit.

“Back in those days, there was still plenty of blackout material around, and it was ideal for making a Batman outfit.

“When Batman was needed, the chief of police summoned him by using a searchlight to project the figure of a bat on to the clouds. We stuck a cut-out figure of a bat on our torches, and how disappointed we were when it did not produce the same effect.

“In those early days, cowboy films were the staple diet on a Saturday afternoon at the Queen’s Hall in Laisterdyke. Hopalong Cassidy (William Boyd) and The Durango Kid (Charles Starrett) were always staunch favourites, even if their films were re-shown on a regular basis. We also enjoyed Tarzan.

“They knew the requirements of a good film at the Queen’s Hall – simple storyline with lots of action. If you wanted love stories or musicals, you went to the Lyceum.

“In the Sixties the Lyceum was transformed into the Rainbow Club, and famous artists of the day appeared there.

“Engelbert Humperdink was a regular favourite, not only at the club, but also in the pub on the other side of the road, The White Bear. There, Engelbert regularly enjoyed a game of darts with the locals.

“Now he has achieved the dream of those locals by having a pub incorporated into his house. Helen Shapiro, the Bee Gees and Michael Jackson (when he was in the Jackson Five) also appeared at the club.

“When we boys went to the Queen’s Hall to see a cowboy film we always took our six-guns. A commissionaire at the door would always ask us to ‘check in’ our guns, but there was no chance of that. Our on-screen hero needed all the help we could give him.”

Lovely stuff. And on to Raymond Schofield, of Nab Wood, who has a different take on the cinema trade of days gone by. “In 1939 I started work at 14 years of age. My wage was ten shillings (50p) at Bastow & Ryders, a poster painting firm in Albion Court, just off Kirkgate, Bradford.

“They painted posters for most, if not all of, the cinemas in Bradford.

“At the end of most main streets were billboards advertising the cinemas. These were made of three sheets of paper. The top one was the cinema’s name, the second was Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, the third was Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The cinemas were closed on Sunday.

“My job was to fill in the block capitals with colour. Each cinema had its own colour heading – I remember the Odeon was chocolate and cream. When war was declared, the cinemas closed for a fortnight and we were laid off. In 1939 I think there were 40 cinemas listed in the Telegraph & Argus.”