One of our favorite local businesses closed recently, but let’s get this out of the way: It was not unexpected; the sky is not about to come tumbling down on all of us; Austin is not over.

But this is a moment to hear from the people who, over the course of many years, worked at Vulcan Video, rented us videos, gave us some very good advice, occasionally some very bad attitude, and, above all else, embodied a huge part of what we mean when we refer to Austin Film Culture.

The people that you will meet, or renew your acquaintance with, in the videos that will follow over the next few weeks, are true scholars – some of them have the sheepskin to prove it, others come from the film school of hard knocks. All of them care a lot about movies and about the connections that movies foster among people. We admire them, and we are grateful to all of them for sending us their recollections and observations.

We have not been bound by any need to sugar-coat the experiences recounted here, but, despite some of the more unorthodox business practices you will hear about, we think that Vulcan was a heroic citadel among not only video stores but, in fact, among all cultural institutions. Shaggy and spiky though it may be, the legacy is staggering and will live on and on, like a particularly stubborn MS-DOS point of sale system.

We start the series with an episode about some badly behaved customers. We have ten times as much material about beloved customers and we’ll share that as well, but, let’s face it, we need to get people hooked first, and that means we start with a shot of the strong stuff.

Thanks to all the Vulcans everywhere. The candle may have gone out but the flame still burns.

If you prefer podcasts, you can also follow along on the AFS Viewfinders podcast (available via your favorite podcast platforms).

Stay tuned for more installments in this series.