Heroes of the silver screen was the subject of an e-mail I received recently.

Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Hopalong Cassidy and all the great cowboys brought back memories of when it was easy to tell the good guys from the bad.

The e-mail also reminded me of the time I saw my very first "picture show." We didn't attend the theater. We "went to the show."

Olive Ann Burns of Commerce, in her great Southern novel "Cold Sassy Tree," starts her story by telling about "when I was little bitty."

I, too, was little bitty when I was first treated to the wonders of the big screen — or any screen other than the one on the door. Television was still in the future for us.

Just 6, I thought I was ready for that great adventure. I could hardly sleep the night before.

We lived in Gillsville, which was just about the same size back then as it is now. However, all the downtown stores were open in those days, and doing brisk business.

\I really can't remember how this odyssey came about, but my big brother Neal, 16, took me all the way to the big city of Gainesville to see this wonder.

We called it "going to town" in those days. It was something most farmers did on Saturday.

Most big brothers would not have wanted to have anything to do with a scrawny little brother. Neal was no exception. In fact, he was a role model when it came to disdain for little brothers. That he was taking me to town with him was somewhat of a miracle in itself.

We waited, me breathlessly, on the side of Highway 51 for the Southeastern Stages bus. It was a day for big adventure. I had never been on a bus before.

I must have embarrassed my quiet brother immensely as I glued my eyes to the window and made loud comments about everything we passed by on the way to "the main highway," U.S. 23.

Then I knew for sure we were actually on our way to the metropolis of Gainesville. We began meeting huge trucks and like-new cars, all going very fast.

It was not my first trip to town. I had ridden there before in my daddy's Model A Ford. I was sitting in the back seat of that Model A with my eyes glued on the passing scenery, when an automobile tire and wheel suddenly passed us.

The wheel had run off our car and careened up a bank. All of a sudden, the rear end went "whump," and my daddy and brother had to retrieve the wheel and put it back on.

We were like pioneers, pressing ahead through all hazards through to the promised land.

I was really agog when the bus pulled into the station and Neal and I disembarked. We took so many turns and twists walking along the city streets I was sure he could never get us back to the station.

I saw Royal Theatre in letters 2 feet high. We had arrived, physically and socially. How are you going to keep them down on the farm after they've seen Main Street?

After the show, we had time to kill before our bus was scheduled to depart for Gillsville, Maysville, Commerce and points south.

Neal showed me all the wonders of the postwar world: the square, the courthouse, city hall, and a drugstore where they would give you a glass of ice water for free.

The stores all had these big fans in the ceiling that kept you cool. One even had something called air conditioning. (Come in, it's Kool inside).

But I digress. The picture show was mind boggling. Allen "Rocky" Lane was up there on the screen in all his black-and-white glory.

I had a candy bar and a drink, both at the same time. Rocky beat up all the bad guys and put them in jail. He shot his six shooter many times, but never killed anyone, even a bad guy. He just shot them in the shoulder and winged them. They learned their lessons and were apparently model citizens after that.

The climax, at least for me, came when the hero was charging straight out of the screen on his horse, chasing the villains through the canyon and shooting.

All of a sudden, he pointed his gun right at me and pulled the trigger.

I fell out of my seat on the floor, and my brother told about that for weeks afterward.

Dave Casper is a lifelong Hall County resident and an occasional columnist.