I grew up in a small town where the downtown had been circumvented by a highway.

The effects on the downtown's economy were devastating, and compounded the problems created when a 300-year flood practically washed away it and the towns several miles north and south along the river six or seven years before.

The factories along the river that had employed the majority of residents were damaged heavily and the copper and brass industries that had been the backbone of the region's economy never recovered, or never reached the level of importance they had before the flood.

It took awhile for service, education, health and technology industries to replace the brass and copper mills and foundries, which still employ a relatively few people. It was, however, the elevated highway that caused the most dislocation.

The businesses in town were locally owned, for the most part: the drugstore, the department store, the furniture store, the two supermarkets, the feed and grain, and a host of small mom and pops.

Much of the trade was brought in by cars that had to pass through town to get north and south of it, from nearby communities that had no downtowns, because the town was too small to support these businesses by itself.

Efforts to get things moving failed. The larger supermarket relocated a few streets in to a new strip shopping center built on the site of housing that had been washed during the flood or razed after it. Other than town hall, the central firehouse and the post office, most public buildings, including the library and the school, were moved to the safety of the hills above the downtown.

The department store moved into the larger quarters vacated by the supermarket.

Eventually, most of the businesses closed and were replaced by convenience stores, pizza restaurants or bars.

The highway came in, and traffic that passed through town was now directed first to strip shopping centers that sprung up at exits with plenty of empty land for development, and then to the larger malls that, even 20 miles from your house, were a quick trip.

There was a bus that passed through downtown, but the runs were gradually reduced after awhile. Train service that carried people as far as 40 miles north and all the way to New York City became sporadic. The railroad station, long a fixture in the town center, was razed, replaced by a green metal shelter that was always empty.

Downtown, which had been busy during the day and had drawn enough people to make it cost-effective to keep the streetlights on, became a ghost town after 6 p.m. Monday through Friday, noon Saturdays and Sundays. It was a different time, of course, since the blue laws kept a tight rein on Sunday openings and merchants took half-days on Wednesdays and Saturdays. But the effects of that highway on the downtown were unmistakable and almost immediate.

What did keep the downtown alive for a while was what had kept it open for years. It was the movie theater. For at least 20 years after the highway was built, the theater struggled, passing through several owners, showing first run movies, then art films and finally X-rated fare before it closed.

The theater finally lost out to the multiplex, with bigger screens, better sound and more comfortable seats. The last time I passed through town it was still closed, and probably has deteriorated enough inside to make any revival efforts very costly.

Still, a growing number of small towns are turning to their empty movie theaters to help draw people back to downtown. Fully realizing that there is no way they could ever compete with the modern multiplexes -- themselves wrestling with the twin threats of television and home theater -- many of these theater operators are turning to live productions, involving local talent and obtaining state and county funding and support from small and large corporations to get started and keep going.

One example I know of is a theater in Oaklyn, N.J., called the Ritz. It was built in 1927, hosted silent films, then talkies, mixed with vaudeville, stage bands and live shows.

It, too, followed the path that my hometown theater did, but a theater buff in the early 1990s did some fast-talking, acquired the theater and got it up and running again, but this time offering major productions.

After 13 years it is doing so well that the company, with support from the state and county as well as local groups and corporate sponsors, puts on five major productions a year, as well as offers theater training to children from the area.

The difference between the night the theater is open and closed is striking. On theater nights, the restaurants and businesses along the main street remain open, and are filled before and well after the show is over.

On non-theater nights, while not as full, the businesses are open, because people have again gotten used to going downtown.

Neighboring towns have gotten the hint, and many are trying to get their old theaters up and running, too.

It can be a struggle, but the rewards can be well worth it.