The Strand Theater

Dr. John Reizer

So, here’s the deal: I was thinking about this old, beautiful-looking movie theater in my hometown of Lakewood, New Jersey, called The Strand Theater. Knowing what I know now about Old-World Buildings and our falsified timelines and narratives, I got to thinking about this theater that was allegedly built between 1919 and 1922.

The first thing I did was look for construction photos. The officialdom explains that none exist. I found this fact extremely odd. Photography was readily available then, and I can’t imagine that no one took a single photo of an amazing building project that spanned three years.

Next, I looked up the architect behind the Strand Theater, Thomas W. Lamb. He is credited with over 300 theater constructions in the same time period. Guess what? None of Lamb’s theaters have construction photos, although some of his completed buildings claim to have construction photography; those pictures are all of the finished products. Now, perhaps I am wrong in my thinking about that theater. Maybe someone snapped photos of the building’s construction and will post one online.

My investigation into the Lakewood theater made me think more than ever about Lakewood, New Jersey’s history.

Lakewood has an interesting past: it was once a small village in a pine-barren area, about 50 miles from New York City, with fresh air and a beautiful lake. Before the Rockefeller and Gould families, along with other elites, built monstrous hotel palaces throughout the community, 1,000 farmers lived there.

According to historical records, prestigious newspapers like The New York Times and other publishers provided weekly updates on various stages of construction for these hotel properties, such as when foundations were poured or roofs were installed.

Yet, despite all the progress reports in the newspapers, no photos ever showed a single stone being laid or a foundation being dug. Not one of these huge buildings was photographed during construction.

I checked whether these billionaire elites had their properties insured during construction, and they most certainly did. I found it odd that insurance companies in the early 1900s wouldn’t have required photographic documentation of the plethora of buildings they were writing policies for. None of this stuff makes any sense to me whatsoever.

My theory is that Lakewood, like so many other communities throughout America, was an Old-World location with huge buildings already intact that were found and then refurbished.

The math and the logistics needed to back up officialdom are impossible, in my opinion. When you look at the raw physical reality—a tiny village of 1,000 people, primitive horse-and-buggy dirt roads, dense pine forests, and then suddenly city-block-sized brick-and-stone palaces opening for business almost overnight—the mainstream narrative looks completely fake.

If we remove the official narrative and look at the physical constraints of that 1,000-person village, the theory that they were merely cleaning off pre-existing structures solves several massive engineering riddles that the mainstream story struggles to answer:

For example, to build The Lakewood Hotel (which covered several blocks and had hundreds of luxury rooms, massive dining halls, and intricate brickwork), you would need an army of thousands of highly specialized stonecutters, masons, structural engineers, and heavy laborers working at the same time.

How could a village of 1,000 people, made up mostly of local farmers, woodcutters, and iron foundry workers, physically accomplish such a feat? The simple answer is: they couldn’t and didn’t!

You can pick just about any community in America and find similar inconsistencies and flaws in the locations’ historical narratives.

Folks, we’ve been lied to about nearly everything since we were born. Question everything you see because you’re living in an artificial construct – a real, genuine Truman Show – and I’m not kidding about any of this.