Ella Marion Katz
For those who grew up in the heyday of Storm King Theater, one name stands out—Mrs. Katz. She wasn’t just the owner; she was the ticket taker, concession stand runner, usher, and sometimes even the enforcer of order in a theater full of mischievous kids.
The Woman Who Did It All
Mrs. Katz wasn’t just present at Storm King Theater—she was Storm King Theater. She did it all.
David Carnright remembers her as an older woman with grey/white hair and glasses, charging a dollar for admission and giving kids a dime back for being honest. Ricky Pacenza also recalls that if you admitted to sneaking in, she would say, “Here’s a dime for being honest.”
She had a tough but fair nature that made her legendary. Sharon Doehla remembers the day Mrs. Katz almost cut her hair after someone threw gum that landed in the back of her head!
She had a soft side, too. Arlene Quicksell tells the story of how two kids begged her to let a dog sit through an entire movie, and to their surprise, she allowed it. Gary Gaffney remembers her handing out apples—his was the size of a watermelon!
Through all the chaos, she ran the best shows in town. One of the most legendary events under her watch was the Beatles film screenings, which even featured a live band. It wasn’t just a movie—it was an experience.
Mrs. Katz: The Main Character of the Theater’s Past
No one could run a theater quite like Mrs. Katz. John Lynch recalls how she would sell tickets, rush to sell candy, then sprint back to the booth as the line grew. “She was everywhere at once,” he said.
Patrick Eckert remembers when his entire school came to watch an epic biblical film, only for the students to get a little too rowdy. “It turned into a fiasco—somewhat funny, but wow,” he recalls. “I can still see Mr. Greene trying to convince Mrs. Katz that the kids weren’t doing anything wrong, just so we could finish the film.”
Michael Small also recalls a school-wide screening of that biblical film, with Mrs. Katz at the center of the chaos, trying to keep everything under control.
Lisa Lyle and Scott Balfe remember the madness of kids sneaking friends in through the side doors, running up and down the aisles, and testing Mrs. Katz’s patience.
Elena Ashline and Cindy Farley recall seeing the numbers tattooed on her arm—a haunting reminder that she was a Holocaust survivor. Cindy was so moved that she began researching the Holocaust because of Mrs. Katz, after learning that she would retreat to the lobby couch to cry in quiet moments of grief.
But as the 1960s came to an end, the theater began to decline, and so did its reputation. Stories of rats running across the stage led to the infamous nickname “Katz’s Rat House.” Tom Schnell recalls them vividly: “They would literally come right under your feet and get the spilled popcorn.”
Darcie Martin remembers that her mother always called it 'Ella’s Rat House.' It wasn’t a flattering name, but it was memorable, and the nickname stuck.
Even as the theater declined, Mrs. Katz remained its unwavering heartbeat. Undefeated by the mischievous patrons, she never gave up on Storm King Theater. Richie Lupo describes how the theater turned into a crazy place where kids acted up in the worst ways, while Skip Hinman simply calls Mrs. Katz “a battle ax.” But no matter what, she kept the place going.
She made Storm King Theater more than just a place to watch movies. She made it a place to remember.
The 1962 Cornwall Local Article: Mrs. Katz in Her Own Words
“To make a simple movie house become the heart and soul of a community: a clean, warm, cozy place… something thought-provoking.”
In her own words, this is how Mrs. Ella Katz described her vision for the Storm King Theatre. She hoped to create "a family theatre, not just a place to escape."
Mrs. Katz assumed the proprietorship duties of the theater in early September 1962, and although it was her first position in this capacity, she brought with her a wealth of experience and ambitious plans.
Jewish by birth, Ella Katz was born in Lithuania during the rule of the Russian czars. The daughter of a lawyer and a mother who wrote literary articles, Ella became interested in theater during a family trip to the Middle East, where she was enrolled in a school of drama.
Years later, she returned to her homeland and pursued a college education in Petrograd (now St. Petersburg). At that time, Jews were legally prohibited from living or studying in the city, but Ella defied the system and completed her studies while living there illegally. Upon graduation, she joined a theatrical company in northern Russia. When asked by her director to select a stage name within five minutes, she adopted "Marion," drawn from a French novelist, to hide her Jewish identity.
With this company, she traveled extensively and performed across the capital cities of Russia. "At first I was very, very happy," she said, "then they found out I was Jewish, and in the middle of the night I fled for my life."
Shortly thereafter, she joined another theater company that toured Poland, Lithuania, and White Russia. Again, her career flourished—until the outbreak of World War I. The Germans advanced, communication lines were severed, and towns fell to bombings. "It was a terrible time then and life didn’t mean a thing to them (the Germans)," she said.
Determined to continue her work, she boldly approached the local military governor and requested permission to perform in an "artistic theater." She recited poetry by Adam Mickiewicz, the revered Polish national poet, and was granted permission to stage her plays in any language—including Yiddish, which was extraordinarily rare and risky at the time.
She began to produce, direct, and act in her own plays. She believed passionately in raising the quality and professionalism of the Jewish stage. "I had something to do with the actual theater reformation in Europe," she reflected.
Coming to America: A Reluctant Departure
In 1920, Ella immigrated to the United States with her mother. She did not want to leave Europe and hoped to continue her theater work there. But her mother wished to reunite with family in America, and Ella went with her.
She arrived in New York with a trunk full of scripts and press clippings. Her first appearance on the American stage was with the Yiddish Art Theater in a play by Osip Dymov, followed by works by Sholem Asch, the author of God of Vengeance and The Nazarene. One of her most cherished roles was in Uriel Acosta, performed in Hebrew at Madison Square Garden in the 1920s.
In 1927, she left the stage to marry Isaac Katz. They settled in St. Albans, Long Island, where they raised two sons: Bernard Katz and Alex Katz, who would later become one of the most important American painters of the 20th century.
During World War II, she served as a Jewish translator for the U.S. government, and later worked as a civilian employee in postwar Germany.
A Return to Theater and a New Mission in Cornwall
After her husband’s tragic death in a car accident, and after her children were grown, Ella Katz returned to the world of theater. She traveled across the U.S., wrote a book titled Here We Are about Gold Star Mothers, submitted short stories for publication, and penned a play that was considered for television.
She enrolled in drama coursework at Columbia University, NYU, and City College. In the summer of 1962, a friend in the film industry asked if she might be interested in a small movie house for lease in Cornwall-on-Hudson. She visited, and as she said:
“I fell in love with it.”
She moved into a modest apartment on Grand Street in Newburgh, alone, and took on the full-time challenge of managing the Storm King Theater. She leased the space, began to refurbish it, and on September 16, 1962, opened with The Notorious Landlady.
Her Vision: Literary Films for a Thoughtful Community
From the beginning, Mrs. Katz envisioned a different kind of theater.
“I want to bring the public to a full awareness of our great American writers. I hope in the future to be able to illustrate this purpose by the types of films offered,” she told The Cornwall Local.
She scheduled adaptations of works by Hemingway, Faulkner, Steinbeck, London, and Hawthorne, beginning with Adventures of a Young Man.
“It was a total success and I want to thank one and all who made it so,” she said.
Her goal was to present at least twelve literary films a year, possibly including historical and musical productions.
An Uphill Battle
Despite her optimism, Mrs. Katz faced daily hardships. The theater was aging and in disrepair. Rats were a constant issue, and equipment frequently failed. She worked 17-hour days, performing every role: selling tickets, running the projector, repairing reels, and sweeping the floors.
The teenage crowds were often disrespectful. Many locals recall her stern demeanor, but few knew she was coping with verbal abuse, vandalism, and an increasingly hostile environment. She was mugged in Newburgh, and her car was stolen, compounding her daily stress.
The breaking point came on October 21, 1966, during a screening of Fantastic Voyage. A film reel jammed, and over 50 teenagers began shouting, throwing popcorn and candy, and demanding refunds. Mrs. Katz tried to explain, but the situation escalated.
Police arrived, but no arrests were made. The incident, later dubbed the “Fantastic Voyage Riot,” was widely discussed in town and marked the end of her tenure. The last film advertised under her management was Dear John, screened in December 1966.
Legacy and Final Years
Mrs. Katz remained in Newburgh after the theater closed. She passed away on September 23, 1980, at St. Francis Hospital in Poughkeepsie, at the age of 82.
Her son Alex Katz honored her memory in one of his most intimate portraits: Ella Marion in a Red Sweater (the painting on this webpage). The painting captures her composure, strength, and layered inner world. A copy now hangs in the ticket booth of the Storm King Theater.
Today, Alex Katz’s work is housed in the Museum of Modern Art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Whitney, the Guggenheim, and the Tate Modern. His global recognition is a reflection not only of his talent, but of the cultural richness and determination passed down to him by his mother.
Remembering Ella Katz
Mrs. Katz was far more than a theater manager. She was a pioneer of Yiddish theater, a scholar, a government translator, a mother, and a visionary. She brought culture to Cornwall and tried to leave it better than she found it. Though her experience at Storm King Theater ended painfully, her legacy remains.
Legacy
Mrs. Katz was so much more than the woman who ran the local movie house. She was a writer, a scholar, a multilingual actress, a translator during World War II, and a civilian employee of the U.S. government overseas. She studied at Petrograd when it was illegal for Jews to do so, then again later at Columbia, NYU, and City College. She performed on stages across Europe under threat of violence, produced groundbreaking Yiddish theater, and brought literary cinema to a small Hudson Valley town with the same devotion she once brought to the spotlight.
She raised a son who became one of America’s most celebrated artists, and she lived her life shaped by art, intellect, and resilience—even when the world made it difficult.
It’s easy to remember her as the elderly woman at the Storm King Theatre—but we must also remember the vast life she led before Cornwall. Her story deserves to be told in full, with all its brilliance and complexity. I, Elizabeth Yannone, am committed to honoring her legacy which is a part of the story of Storm King Theater.
To read more about Mrs. Katz and Storm King Theater in the 60’s please view the: news archives (which are in the process of being uploaded, so check back frequently)
What we know about Ella M. Katz
Long Experience in Theatre Aids Mrs. Katz Plans for Storm King
Originally published in The Cornwall Local, November 8, 1962 – now expanded with historical records, family accounts, and community memories.
“To make a simple movie house become the heart and soul of a community: a clean, warm, cozy place… something thought-provoking.” – Ella Katz
In September 1962, a remarkable woman named Ella Marion Katz assumed proprietorship of the Storm King Theatre in Cornwall-on-Hudson, New York. To the casual moviegoer, she may have appeared to be simply an older woman with an interest in film. But behind her modest appearance was a rich and complex life—an actress, writer, translator, scholar, and cultural visionary who had lived through war, exile, and loss. The story she shared with The Cornwall Local on November 8, 1962, revealed a fraction of this life. Now, with access to additional records, interviews, and her son’s reflections, her an more complete picture of her life can finally be told.
Painting by Pamela Thompson Brown
A black cat sitting in the window of Storm King Theater in honor of Mrs. Katz.