A thread about #SumnerRedstone: in the 70s and 80s my dad owned a chain of indie movie theaters, including one in Salem, NH. Back then, theater owners bid on films. It was basically gambling and my dad was good at it. Real good. You would have to guarantee a dollar amount and

the number of weeks you would play the film. It wouldn’t matter if it was a piece of shit or a great film. Whatever you bid, you were committed to. My dad would take me and my sisters to screenings and he would often bid based on our opinions of the movie.

There was also a blind bidding system, which meant you couldn’t see the movie and had to bid based on the stars and director etc. It was a completely corrupt system and was at one point investigated by the @TheJusticeDept. But as I said, my dad was good at it and had a system.

He was killing it in the late 70s as he outbid his rivals for a string of huge hits - Grease, Jaws, Close Encounters of a Third Kind - and many more. Because he kicked so much ass at bidding, his theater was very lucrative and that drew the attention of #SumnerRedstone

who at the time was one of the nation’s biggest theater owners with his company, National Amusements. Summer came to my dad and said “I want to buy your cinema.” “It’s not for sale,” my dad said. Sumner didn’t like that answer and they battled in the bidding system for years.

My dad kept crushing it and it drove Sumner crazy. Back then, if you won the bid, you had exclusive rights to show the picture. The system in later years became completely rigged for the big chains and it killed the indie owners. One in South Carolina committed suicide because he

lost his business due to the fact that he couldn’t get any first run pictures. This was eventually the reason my dad closed all his cinemas. Back to Salem - Sumner called one day and invited my dad to a meeting at his office in Boston. The topic was selling Salem. My dad drove in

and went to Sumner’s office. He was escorted into a massive boardroom like you see in bad 80s movies. A lunch was brought in for my dad at a seat at the long table. Up above at the head of the table was a riser and a podium where Sumner would sit to preside over meetings.

Sumner’s lunch was placed up there. So my dad was sitting below, looking up. When Sumner came in and took his seat, my dad spoke up. “Sumner, we have a problem.” “What’s that Roger?” Sumner asked. “Well, I’m not sitting here having lunch with you looking down on me. So either you

come down here, or I go up there, or this meeting is over.”
“Are you serious Mr. Wedge,” Sumner asked.
“Try me,” my dad replied. Sumner looked at my dad and then called his secretary and had her move my dad’s lunch up to the riser. He invited my dad up. They sat and had lunch

together and discussed the sale. My dad didn’t sell the theater that day, but he did eventually. The final negotiation occurred after Sumner threatened my dad that he would build a multi-plex just a few hundred yards down the road from the Salem Tri. My dad drove a hard bargain

and he became somewhat of a legend in the business because he stood up to Redstone and got his price. After they closed the deal, my dad and Sumner remained friends and saw each other pretty regularly at industry conventions. It was always friendly. When Sumner died yesterday

my dad recalled him as a “tough bastard.” My dad got out of the business in the 90s as video rentals and cable TV put the final nail in the coffin for indie theater owners. My dad, now 81, remained a successful businessman and his friends and family often talk about the time he

stood up to a media icon and won. RIP #SumnerRedstone - you were a worthy adversary to at least one tough little guy who owned theaters in New England.