In 1926, young Sam Eisenstein came to Annapolis from Baltimore with his new bride, Lena, to buy a butcher shop on what is now the site of the Arundel Center. Lena's father already owned a grocery store in town, which made the acquisition of a meat market an attractive proposal.

But while looking at the butcher shop, Sam noticed a "for sale" sign on the Star Theater across the street. Anna Eisenstein Greenberg grins as she tells the story of how she became a theater owner's daughter.

"My father asked himself: 'Do I want to own a butcher shop or do I want to own a theater?' Of course, he chose the theater," she said.

From 1926 until 1954, Anna's parents operated the only movie house that catered to African-American patrons in Annapolis. The Star, at the corner of Calvert and Northwest streets, across from what is now the Arundel Center, was part of Annapolis' vibrant black entertainment scene.

Next door to the theater, the legendary Watkins Hotel (now the county garage at Clay and Calvert streets), showcased performers like Cab Calloway and Lena Horne, who played Annapolis on the "Chitlin circuit."

Three years after purchasing the Star, it became apparent that Sam and Lena had made the right choice in turning down the butcher shop. That year, "the talkies" were born, making the movie business a depression-proof industry. Not long after, came the birth of Anna, who joined her parents in their home on their second-floor apartment above the theater. Anna grew up over the Star until she was 7 and the family moved to Murray Hill.

If you were a child in Annapolis in the 1930s, chances are you heard about Anna's birthday parties. There was cake and ice cream, but also candy and soda pop and cartoons shown on a big screen in a real movie theater. In those days, having a child's party at a theater was an extraordinary occurrence. Not every little girl could take over a theater lobby for her fifth birthday, but of course, Anna wasn't just any little girl.

"When I was in elementary school (Greene Street, now Annapolis Elementary), the teacher would ask: 'And what did you do last night?' Most children would say, 'Oh, my mother read me a story.' I'd always say, 'I went to the movies."'

And she did, almost every night. In her parent's theater, Anna usually stood obediently in the back, so as not take up a paying customer's seat. But one evening, when she was very young, the magic of the silver screen took over.

"Dick Powell was singing By a Waterfall," she said. "I let go of my maid's hand, walked down the aisle and walked right up on the stage to touch the water. Of course, they quickly came and got me. That was the first and last time I ever got on stage."

Her parents operated the theater seven days a week, pulling out all the stops to keep the customers coming back. There was bank night, where people could win anywhere from $25-$300 - a great deal of money in those days for The Star's customers were mainly employed as domestics in homes and at the Naval Academy.

Thursdays featured "Fight Night," when boxers like Joe Lewis lit up the screen. And on "Vaudeville Night," live entertainers and comedians filled the stage. Any time a film featured African-American actors, lines circled around the corner.

During the Star's heyday, three whites-only theaters operated in town: The Republic on Main Street (currently the Annapolis Summer Garden Theatre Playhouse), The Circle on State Circle (now an office building), and The Capital on West Street (now dental offices). The Star showed all the movies the white ones did, but Mr. Eisenstein had a gentleman's agreement with Mr. Durkee, owner of Annapolis' three white theaters, that the Star would never show a movie before the whites saw it.

"My father would never admit any whites into the theater, and Durkee would never admit any blacks," Anna said.

In fact, the only whites that even tried to get into the Star were "Johnnies," the students at St. John's. "Daddy turned them away," she said.

Annapolis was a segregated city and even Anna felt the sting of prejudice. The Eisensteins were Jewish, one of only 75 families who were of the Jewish faith in Annapolis the first half of the 20th century.

"It was seldom a neighbor didn't refuse to let their children walk to school with me because of my religion," she said.

Until the 1970s, Jews were banned from buying a home in many Annapolis neighborhoods, such as Epping Forest, Wardour, Sherwood Forest and Pendennis Mount.

"There was a pharmacist on Main Street who wouldn't allow Jews to enter his shop," Anna said. Ironically, that store is now Chick and Ruth's Delly, a Jewish-style deli restaurant.

World War II brought plenty of eligible young men to Annapolis, including her future husband, a Naval Academy graduate, whom she met at one of the "Jewish Church Parties" sponsored by the Kneseth Israel congregation, (a former Mission chapel, now condo apartments), located at the time on the corner of Prince George and East streets.

Annapolis was a lively place to be a young girl during the years of World War II. St. John's accepted boys who had completed their sophomore year in high school because most young men 18 and older were drafted into military service. This meant the town was filled with boys of 15, 16, 17 years of age attending college. At the academy, there were the older "men," boys who had completed a tour of duty in Europe and went on to attend officer training.

Anna, like a lot of girls her age in Annapolis, led a whirlwind dating life, often "late-dating" Johnnies after going out with the mids, who had to be back in the yard by 10 p.m.

"After saying good-night to the middies we went home, freshened up and went out with the boys from St. John's," she said with a chuckle.

But it was a midshipman that captured her heart. As the wife of Capt. Edwin Greenberg, Anna made her home throughout the country and the world.

"Once I left Annapolis, I was exposed to a whole new culture," she said.

In Italy, the extraordinary arts scene had a profound influence on the young Navy wife. When she returned to the states, she took her love of the arts with her as well as a strong sense of commitment to making the communities her husband was stationed in a better place.

When the opportunity presented itself to move back to Annapolis, Anna was not sure she wanted to return to the sleepy southern town of her youth. She was pleasantly surprised to find how much it had changed, thanks in no small part to the efforts of the Historic Annapolis Foundation. Once settled in, Anna promptly set about getting involved in both historic preservation and the arts, where her energy and enthusiasm has made her a coveted asset on many community boards.

Nowadays, Mrs. Greenberg is known as the go-to person for organizing successful charity parties and events, raising thousands of dollars for worthy causes. She has been the chairman for fundraisers for Historic Annapolis, The Annapolis Opera, the Annapolis Symphony Orchestra and St. John's College among many others and has just been named "Volunteer of the Year" by the Anne Arundel Community Foundation.

In September, she was the chairman for the Queen Anne's Ball, which kicked off the 300th anniversary celebration of Annapolis' Royal Charter. Listening to Anna's enthusiastic recounting of the ball, you realize that through all the changes, one thing remains the same: from the lobby of the Star Theater to the grand ballroom of the Loews Hotel, Anna Eisenstein Greenberg still throws the parties all of Annapolis wants to attend.